by Jane Corrie
Shouts for the musicians to play again started up another dance, and Vicky, seeing Ross looking her way, and not wanting another fling around the floor like the last one, started to make tracks for the harbour of the tea counter, but came up against the solid bulk of Pete Noonan, who gave her a sketchy bow and asked for the pleasure of the dance.
Vicky did not want to dance with him, but to refuse would have looked like a snub, and she was feeling sorry for him because she was certain that he was in love with Ella.
Pete had beaten Ross to it by a matter of seconds, and Ross looked none too pleased when Pete led Vicky on to the dancing area. He was even more displeased when, after the dance, Pete stayed
persistently by Vicky's side making small conversation about nothing in particular but enough to keep Vicky from making her escape.
Had Vicky really thought about it, she was getting an ideal chance to annoy Ross. As it was, she was too surprised to capitalise on it. Pete Noonan had never bothered with her before, mainly because of Ross, who would have given him his marching orders if he had so much as looked her way, but here he was making a dead set at her, and what was worse, making no effort to conceal the fact.
Far from-feeling elated, Vicky knew only embarrassment, and when she saw Ross heading their way with a glint in his eye that spelt trouble for Pete she hastily directed Pete's attention to the refreshment counter and suggested that they had a drink. She would even have suggested they took a walk outside to avoid a head-on collision between the men!
Once at the counter, Vicky slipped-behind it and into her serving position, showing her determination to stay put by wrapping herself in Mrs George's apron again.
Pete' Noonan was made of sterner stuff, however, and not easily baulked. He was intent on annoying Ross; and was making a good job of it from what Vicky could see, for he stayed put right beside the counter, and even helped hand out the tea to Vicky's customers.
One couldn't help but admire his tactics, for without taking Vicky's mind off her job, he managed to convey the impression that he was in-
terested in her. But impression was all it was, and certainly did not fool Vicky. For some reason, which wasn't all that hard to guess at, Pete wanted to get back at Ross, and Vicky was sure Ella had something to do with it. Her thoughts raced ahead as she tried to come up with the solution for this entirely unexpected turn of events, and there was only one that made sense. Ella must be in love with Ross—Mary's thoughts on the matter had been correct. To Pete Noonan's way of thinking Ross had stolen his girl's heart, and what better way of revenge than to repay the compliment in kind?
Vicky sighed as she refilled the tea urn. He would see no obstacle in his way. It was common knowledge that she and Ross would eventually marry. It must also be common knowledge that it was not a love match.
Considering everything, it was not a very clever way of going about things, Vicky thought shrewdly. Without realising it he was giving Vicky a hand in her own scheme for her freedom, and she wondered how he would take it when the `understanding' between Ross and Vicky was broken and Ross was free to marry Ella, particularly when he realised that he had paved the way for them—but that was something that he wouldn't know until it was too late.
Ross's smooth voice cut across her musings, and seemed to float across the crowded room towards them. 'Come on, Noonan. There's some young ladies here without partners,' he remarked, managing to sound casual, but Vicky knew that he was
giving Pete a clear warning that he was stepping out of his territory.
Pete's equally smooth reply of, 'I like it right here,' as he handed Vicky some used crockery, caused an expectant hush to fall on the crowd, and Vicky tried to pretend she was busy, although she had no customers.
George Waden's authoritative, 'Make like a guest, Pete. We're here to enjoy ourselves. You've no call to disappoint the ladies,' sounded as it was meant to sound, like an order, and for a second or so it looked as if Pete would fail to comply, but after giving a light shrug, he moved away from the counter and started to circulate.
Vicky heaved a sigh of relief as the music started up again. What could have been a nasty moment had been averted by Mr Waden's intervention.
From then on Ross was never far from the re freshment counter, making certain that Vicky was under his watchful eye and once again making her feel like the little sister who had to be protected from the big bad wolf!
The party broke up shortly after one o'clock, which was late, since all the guests were working folk and most of them would have to be up at the crack of dawn to carry out their various duties, but no thought of the morrow could mar the enjoyment of the evening for them, and happily singing parties were sent on their way with a promise from George Waden to hold another in not too distant a future.
Ross's curt 'goodnight' to Vicky as she climbed
into the car after Mary and Jake had taken their seats in the back showed Vicky that he held her partly responsible for encouraging Pete Noonan's attentions, but she took no offence at this silent unfair accusation, for her mind was too busy trying to come to terms with the incredible fact that Pete Noonan intended to go ahead with his scheme of getting at Ross through her.
His quick but unmistakable,' Be seeing you,' as he handed a pile of used crockery to her just before the Waden party had taken their leave, left her in no doubt of this, but she could see nothing but fireworks ahead.
Quite apart from the futility of the scheme, Pete stood a good chance of losing his job, and as her father had remarked, jobs weren't all that easy to come by.
Somehow, she thought disconsolately, she would have to protect him from himself. It was obvious that he wasn't thinking straight, and that meant that he was very much in love with Ella, she thought wearily, even to the point of risking all to get back at Ross.
Her first wish had come true, she thought wistfully, but not at all in the way she had envisaged. Now it looked as if her second wish, to be given her freedom, would also come true, but not in the way she had wanted it, at least not in a way that made trouble for others, and Pete Noonan was heading for trouble with a capital T if he persisted in carrying out his plans.
Why had things to be so awkward? she wondered
wretchedly. All she wanted to do was to free Ross and herself from a binding commitment that neither of them wanted, but it was proving no easy task.
There was Ross's obstinacy for a start, and his fierce pride for a second. It was his pride that would provide the fuel for a battle royal over her—not because he cared for her, but as he himself had said, because he felt responsible for her.
Her brow deepened in thought. If only she knew if Ross really cared for Ella. Or if Ella cared for him.
If they were in love, then it hadn't happened yesterday, she told herself, and they had had ample time to hide their feelings from the rest of the world. If Ross had needed Dale's Creek to provide himself with a decent living, then he could be forgiven for his obstinacy, but he was a wealthy man in his own right and what he was doing he was doing purely through a sense -of duty, and it was harder on Ella than on him, and doubly hard on her, had she allowed him to sweep her to the altar.
Only time would tell, she thought, but at least she had given them the opportunity to come out into the open and declare their true feelings.
Her thoughts ran on as she got ready for bed, seeking various ways of coping with what looked like an explosive situation. She could be downright rude to Pete, of course, and give him his marching orders should he make any attempt to contact her, and she just couldn't see herself doing any such thing, but when she recalled the determined way
he had stuck by her side that evening, she knew it
might have to come to that whether she liked it or
not. If it saved him his job, then it would be worth
a little discomfort on her part.
It was all Ross's fault, she thought crossly. If he hadn't been the kind of man he was, the whole thing could have been forgotten and pa
ssed off as just a friendly overture on Pete's part, instead of calling attention to it the way he had, and drawing everyone's eyes that way, making it into a big thing.
She sighed as she slipped on her pyjamas after taking her shower, and got into bed. It was then that she recalled Mary's comments on their having to put their heads together where Ross and Ella were concerned, and she sent a grateful thought towards Mary, who understood how she felt.
As she put out her bedside light and lay back on her pillows, she wondered what Mary had in mind. She hadn't liked the idea at first, and felt that Ross ought to do his own courting, but it did look as if he needed a helping hand. Like Pete, he had to be saved from himself!
Vicky plumped the pillows behind her head and gave another deep sigh. It was a wonder that any romance got off the ground, particularly if all the males were like Ross, whose stiff-necked pride got in the way of true romance!
As for Mary hoping to manipulate things to everybody's satisfaction, Vicky couldn't see it happening. Ross liked being in the driving seat and wouldn't take kindly to any interference in his
affairs. Any such scheme—even if thought up by the shrewd Mary would be spotted a mile away by that hawkeyed maddening man!
Before she fell asleep, Vicky had a vision of Pete Noonan turning up at the homestead and asking for her, and she only hoped that no such an event came to pass.
Her father would reasonably be hoping that his slice of bad luck was over and looking forward to better times. To have Pete Noonan courting his daughter would bring about a relapse, not to mention Ross well and truly on the warpath!
`Really,' she murmured drowsily, 'it's all so unnecessary,' and fell asleep to dream of Ross dressed as a Red Indian and decked in full warpaint brandishing a tomahawk at some unknown quarry whom she presumed to be Pete Noonan!
CHAPTER SIX
THE following morning, Vicky had a rude awakening in the form of a telephone call from Ross. Her sleepy, 'You can take it for me,' to Mary when she went in to rouse her just after seven, met with, 'he wants to speak to you. Come on—whatever it is it must be important, he wouldn't ring at this time if it wasn't.'
Ross's curt voice soon shook all sleep out of Vicky. 'Mrs George has sprained her ankle pretty
badly,' he said brusquely. 'We've had the doctor up and he says she'll have to keep off it for at least a week. I want you up here at the double. You'd better pack a case. You'll be here for a week, if not more,' he stated.
Vicky's eyes opened wide. 'What about Mary coming?' she asked, self-preservation taking over. She didn't want to go.
`Use your sense,' Ross barked back at her. 'She's got Jake and your father to look after. You wanted a job, didn't you? Well, I'm offering you one as temporary housekeeper!' With that he slammed the receiver down on her, leaving her staring at the silent instrument in her hand and thinking of all the things she had wanted to say in reply to that sarcastic remark of his, if she had been given the opportunity.
`Well, what's happened?' Mary asked. 'I heard you offer my services,' she added dryly.
`Which he didn't accept,' Vicky replied sourly. `Mrs George has sprained her ankle. I don't know how,' she added darkly, and then looked at Mary. `You don't suppose Ross pushed her down the stairs, do you?' she asked. 'He was pretty furious with me last night thought I'd encouraged Pete Noonan's attentions.'
`Vicky!' exclaimed Mary in a shocked but amused voice. 'What a thing to say! Of course he didn't! And anyone could see it was Pete doing the chasing. You wouldn't know how to encourage him" she added with a grin.
`Thank you for your complete confidence in my
being a nincompoop!' Vicky answered crossly. 'As for Ross not doing any such thing, it makes a perfectly good excuse for getting me up to Jarra where he can keep an eye on me, doesn't it?' she added.
`What exactly does he want you to do?' Mary asked with a suspicion of a twinkle in her eye. `Look after Mrs George?'
`That,' said Vicky, 'will be part of my duties, no doubt. I'm a temporary housekeeper until she's fit.' A thought then struck her and she stared at Mary in consternation. 'Does that mean doing the cooking, too?' she asked with wide eyes.
Mary tried hard not to show her amusement. `Well, Ross does eat, doesn't he? I hear Mrs George is a first class cook,' she added slyly.
`Thank you!' Vicky exclaimed bitterly. 'That's all I need to make my day! I only hope they own a tin-opener, because that's the limit of my skill in that direction!'
Mary chuckled as she turned back to the kitchen. `Come and have your breakfast,' she said. 'At least you'll have a good breakfast if no one else at Jarra has.'
A glance at the clock told Vicky that it was seven-fifteen, and if she was expected to get Mrs George's breakfast she had better get a move on. There were things she had to do, packing for instance, although that wouldn't take long. She would need her pyjamas, a change of underwear, and maybe a blouse, she thought disconsolately, as she started on the large helping of bacon and eggs that Mary put before her.
It was at this point that a vision of the kitchen at Jarra loomed before her, particularly the large gleaming oven, and she lost her appetite. 'I'll never manage that oven, Mary,' she said dismally, and then brightened as a thought struck her. 'Perhaps we could cook Mrs George's breakfast here. If I leave as soon as it's ready ?'
Mary shook her head decisively. 'There's nothing worse than cold congealed bacon and eggs, Vicky. For goodness' sake, look on the bright side. Those dials are more for swank than for anything else. Mrs George will tell you how to manage it. You'll get the hang of it in no time, you'll see,' she added confidently.
Vicky wished that she shared that confidence; as it was, she had no such faith in her abilities.
Mary's parting shot, however, as she saw Vicky off fifteen minutes later with, 'Remember, Vicky, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach!' held such amusement in it that Vicky knew that they were both of the same opinion as far as her cooking was concerned.
As she crashed the gears, she called back, 'In that case I've nothing to worry about,' and slid the Holden into action. 'Be seeing you,' she called as the car swept away from the homestead.
On arrival at Jarra, Vicky found Mrs George in her room on the first floor. 'Sorry about this, Vicky,' Mrs George said, and gave a wry grimace. `It's my own fault really. I ought to have got that loose heel seen to ages ago. I'm lucky that it didn't get caught further up the stairs—as it was, it
happened on the last two steps, and apart from wrenching my ankle and a loss of dignity, I'm all right.'
Vicky had never known her so forthcoming. Mrs George was the silent type of woman who rarely indulged in chat, but it did put Vicky at her ease, and she enquired what she would like for breakfast.
`Only toast and tea, please,' Mrs George replied, and gave a smile at Vicky's obvious relief at not having to cook her anything. 'I'm afraid Ross will need something more substantial, though—he'll be in around nine. Three rashers and two eggs should see him right,' she added comfortably.
Vicky tried to look enthusiastic but failed, and was wondering how he'd take to baked beans, if she could find the tin-opener, that was!
`No need to start until about ten to nine, 'Mrs George murmured, unaware of Vicky's alternative plans for his breakfast. 'I usually put the bacon under the grill about then and start the eggs a few minutes to nine. It can be put in the plate warmer then ready for serving.'
`I'll need time to work out how that cooker works,' Vicky said carefully, deciding to come clean, it would save a lot of explanation later.
`It's not as bad as all that,' said Mrs George with a smile, 'although I must admit it took me a day or two to get the hang of it when it first came, so I'm sure Ross won't expect too much of you at the start. There's a leaflet in the kitchen drawer giving all the dial positions,' she told Vicky.
After Vicky had taken up Mrs George's tray containing her modest breakfast, Vicky went back to the kitchen and settled down to decipher the oven code, and experim
ent with the dials.
By ten to nine, she felt capable of producing some sort of a meal, so long as it was not too fancy, she could manage, she thought, and felt reasonably pleased with herself. There was nothing to it, and she wondered why she had got so hot and bothered about the job of taking over from Mrs George. There was bound to be a well-stocked freezer and she could get the menus from Mrs George, all she had to do was to remember to take the stuff out of the freezer in time for the cooking in the evening.
By now the bacon was sizzling merrily in the grill pan, and as it was a few minutes to nine, Vicky put the eggs on. Any minute now Ross would make his appearance, and he wouldn't have anything to complain about, Vicky thought happily as she turned her attention back to the cooker manual. There was sonthing that she hadn't quite grasped about the timer, an ingenious mechanism that allowed you to leave the food cooking in the oven and would switch itself off when it was ready. The oven at Dale's Creek possessed no such refinement, although Vicky could see what a boon it would be to a busy housewife.
A quick glance at the clock told her it was a quarter past nine, and she frowned. Mrs George had said nine o'clock, hadn't she? Perhaps she had better check, she thought, and leaving the eggs
nicely frying on a low heat, and the grill also turned down low, she slipped up to Mrs George's room. `You did say nine o'clock, didn't you?' she asked, just putting her head round the door and not going in to save time.
`Not back yet?' Mrs George asked. 'Oh, well, I expect he's got held up. Just as long as it's ready when he comes,' she commented comfortably. 'Do you want to take my tray down?' she queried.
