by Mary Moore
Brett caught Fern's eye across the table. 'I'm going to town immediately after lunch, would you like to come with me?'
It was only then that Fern remembered that they were to buy the ring today. She went to her room to change, and found to her horror that Kirsty had collected all the clothes off her bed, and they were now hanging wet and limp on the line. She could either wear the distinctly grubby jeans she had on or the only article left in her pack ... a pair of thoroughly disreputable shorts and a torn shirt which she had intended to discard. It wasn't so bad, because she had intended to buy some new clothes today when she was in town. She put her faded frayed shorts and shirt on, brushed her hair till it was shiny and glossy, and went out to the kitchen carrying her shoulder bag and boots.
Kirsty glanced at her with surprise. 'You're never going to town in those rags?'
Fern laughed, 'I've got no option . .. you've washed everything else I possess. Don't worry, I was going to buy some new gear today. I've got my Post Office Savings Bank book with me. Where is Brett?'
'He's waiting out in the car,' Kirsty said. 'Oh, I am sorry I've put you in such a difficulty, I thought you'd left them all for the tub.'
The rain had cleared away as suddenly as it had arrived and the sun was shining brightly as Fern joined Brett.
Brett opened the door for her and then stared. 'I'll wait while you go and change.'
Fern shook her head. 'Sorry, but you take me like this, or not at all.'
Brett stiffened, and his blue eyes were cold. 'Oh, I see, an ultimatum.' His arm barred her entrance for a moment, then he said, 'Get in.'
As they drove off, Fern began, 'I can explain ...'
'Save your breath,' Brett cut in. 'I even put on a collar and tie thinking the occasion somewhat important, while you deck yourself out in clothes that wouldn't be accepted in a CORSO collection. I would prefer you to leave it at that.'
Fern shrugged her shoulders. If that was what he thought, he could carry on. She didn't let his anger upset her, she was busy planning her new wardrobe. Seeing she was going to stay here for a couple of months, she would need quite a few additions. While she had moved on every three or four weeks her few good clothes were enough for the odd evening out, and her jeans or shorts and tops were all she needed during the day. But with Kirsty making her change into a dress each night she was heartily sick of the few changes she had.
Brett drove over the rail crossing and passed the clock tower, then braked suddenly in front of a jeweller's shop.
Fern looked at him in surprise. There was no doubt that he was in a towering rage; his face wore that closed bitter expression which had been absent for the last few days, and his hands were still gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles showed white. 'You are still prepared to become engaged to me?'
'To pretend to become engaged to you,' Fern replied sharply.
'Good. I take back the bit I said about considering an engagement being a binding contract leading to marriage. I thought it didn't matter who I married, but I find the thought of being permanently tied to someone as hard and unforgiving as you makes me shudder. There's nothing soft or feminine in you. You dressed with the deliberate intention of humiliating me. It must give you exquisite satisfaction to know that you can make me bend enough to take a scruffy object like you into that shop buy a ring to put on your finger, and introduce you to my friends. If it wasn't for that fact that I'd do anything short of murder to please Uncle Hamish, I'd toss you out on the street this minute, which is all the treatment a little tramp like you deserves!'
Fern's face was white, as his remarks slammed into her like physical blows. Then her small chin lifted. 'What makes you think I'll let you off the hook when your uncle dies? I might sue you for breach of promise?'
'Sue away! I'd be happy to pay up to my last penny, to be well rid of a plaster like you.'
Fern was shaking so badly she could hardly speak. 'I have s-s-some sh-sh-shopping to do. You can go in there and buy the cheapest ring that you can get.' She pulled off her friendship ring from her right hand and laid it on the seat. 'That's my ring size. If you want me to go in with you, I'll be back here in an hour.'
She got out of the car still clutching her boots, and limped down the street to where she had seen the Post Office. So he was humiliated and ashamed to to be seen with her, was he? Well, she'd show him! She'd spend all the money she'd saved during the past six months, and buy herself a heap of ultra-respectable clothes, and she'd act like a lady to please his rotten, stuffy friends, but she would never forgive him for his remarks ... not ever.
After drawing her money out, she wandered about the streets until she saw a display in a window, a full-length dress in Lincoln green. It was very simple, a scooped neckline, with shirring at the waist, and again on the cuffs of the long sleeves. The material was crepe, just what she had in mind. She went into the shop, and took a packet of pantyhose from the hosiery bar. When she paid for them, the little shop assistant asked, 'Is there anything else?'
'The green dress in the window?' Fern suggested.
The girl's face lit up with enthusiasm. 'I knew that wouldn't last the day. It's gorgeous, I'd love it myself, but it's not my colour . Green makes me look as if I'm sickening for something, but it would be smashing on you.
Fern followed her into the large fitting room, and taking off her awful shirt and shorts she put on the new panty-hose and her boots, then eased into the long dress. She twisted her long hair into a soft knot at the base of her neck, and looked in the mirror.
'Golly, you look super!' the little assistant said happily. 'I knew you would. Like something out of Vogue magazine. You look a bit like Twiggy, with your small face and huge eyes.'
Fern laughed, 'I'm not a bit like Twiggy, at least I can wear a strapless frock if I want to, without having to put a notice on "Front" or "Back"!'
The shopgirl giggled. 'But you are going to take it? It would be a sin not to. I'm not just saying that to get a sale. Really, you look marvellous .'
Fern couldn't help feeling warmed by the girl's admiration, and she did like the dress. 'Yes, I'll take it, and lots of other things if you have them. Could you bring in, say two pair of denim shorts, these have had it, and perhaps two pairs of stretch trews , or hipsters, and a few tops.'
It took Fern no time to choose what she wanted; she was surprised at the wide selection brought for her approval, the clothes were as up-to-the-minute as any city store could provide.
'Now, I'd better have a slip, because I want three or four summer shifts, sleeveless and plain, you know what I mean?'
The little salesgirl seemed to be getting as much fun from helping Fern as if she was getting them herself. She came back with the slip, and an armful of dresses. Fern soon sorted out a gold silk mini, a leaf green tunic-type dress, and two colourful cotton shifts.
'I didn't bring you any midi ones, because it would be a shame to wear them and cover up your legs. Is that all now?'
Fern was still wearing the green mini. 'No, I'll have a look myself now, if you'll pack those things. I want something smart and sophisticated, but not too way out ... I'd better just have a hunt around, and I want some new undies too.'
Fern moved along the lines of dresses, pant-suits, and began to feel she was being difficult to please, but she couldn't find the outfit she wanted ... it had to be special.
The salesgirl was back. 'Can't you see anything that's just right?'
Fern answered with a smile. 'Well, really any of these would do, but I wanted something a bit different.'
The girl flushed. 'Look, we have a smashing suit out the back, it's a bit expensive, though. A customer ordered it, but she was in this morning and she was a bit too f — I mean, the suit was a bit small. I just thought of it because it would go with your bag and boots. It's cream and brown, and there's a cream and brown stetson to go with it. Would you like to try it on?'
Fern tried it, and it was a perfect fit. She pinned her hair higher, and put the
stetson on ... exactly what she wanted.
'Here's gloves to match. Miss O'Brien hunted them out this morning.' The salesgirl helped her put them on. 'Golly, you look super!'
When Fern heard the price she nearly asked for a chair to sit down in while she made wild calculations to see if she had enough. She had, but with only five dollars to spare, after paying for her other purchases. While she carefully made up her face, the shop assistant put all her things in a large carton. Fern stepped back from the mirror - yes, she could face Brett in these clothes. But she would add one more thing, a pair of huge sunglasses. He wasn't going to see how much he'd hurt her.
'Can we put these in your car for you? They're a bit heavy for you to carry far.'
'Thanks very much,' Fern answered. 'You've been a marvellous help. If you'd put them in that red Holden across the street, I'd be grateful.'
'You mean the one Brett Alexander is leaning on?'
'Yes, do you know him?' Fern asked in surprise.
'Everyone around here does. He's a big wheel in this town.'
'Well, you tell that big wheel Miss Fraser will be along in a few minutes.'
Fern went next door to the chemist's shop and bought the biggest pair of dark glasses she could find. It was only when she tried them on that she realized that she'd fought with Brett and that she had not cried. She must be getting better.
She crossed the street to where Brett was standing talking to two ladies. Slipping her arm through his, she said silk- ily , 'Brett darling, aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?'
The look of surprise followed by reluctant admiration that came into Brett's eyes was worth every cent the suit had cost her, Fern thought savagely.
'Sorry, Fern. I didn't see you arrive. Mrs. Hamilton and Jane, I'd like you to meet my fiancee , Fern Fraser.'
Hiding behind her dark glasses. Fern could almost imagine he sounded proud as he accepted their congratulations. 'Thanks very much, both of you. You're the first to know, and we're just going in to buy the ring, so I hope you'll excuse us?'
Jane Hamilton was staring at Fern intently. 'Hey, you're Fern Fraser! I mean the one that went to St. James' School in Christchurch. Take those wretched glasses off so that I can have a good look at you.'
Fern obeyed with a grin, and found herself hugged and kissed by an ecstatic Jane. 'Why, you mad darling, why didn't you let me know you were on the Coast? Mother, you've heard me speak of Fern... you know, her father, Dr. Fraser, is often on TV giving lectures. Oh, Fern, this is fantastic - I mean , you're going to marry Brett and live in the Valley.'
'Fantastic,' agreed Fem, as she replaced her dark glasses. She knew Jane had come from the Coast, but it was a big province, and she hadn't given her a thought. She still didn't know whether to be glad or mad that she had run into her.
Mrs. Hamilton was pressing Brett to allow them to put on an engagement party for them. 'Sorry, Mrs. Hamilton, but Kirsty and Uncle Hamish will want it at home. It was good of you to offer, thank you. Now, if you'll excuse us, we must be getting along.'
He caught Fern by the hand and led her firmly into the jeweller's shop, while she turned to wave a hurried goodbye. At least they would be convinced that Brett was in love with her, dragging her willy-nilly into the shop to put the ring on her finger. Young Lochinvar has come out of the West, I don't think, Fern thought bitterly.
Brett led her through to a small room behind the counter. ‘I took the liberty of narrowing the choice down to five or six, that I thought you might like, but if they don't suit you, just say the word.'
The shop owner came through and placed the beautiful rings on a table in front of Fern; with a tactful murmur he withdrew and left them alone. Fern tried on one ring after another, in complete silence. She knew at a glance that they were all exceedingly expensive rings, and she did not want a diamond ring. 'Diamonds are forever' and this was only pretence. Suddenly weary of the whole thing, she said, 'Does it have to be a diamond?'
'It is customary,' Brett said slowly.
'Oh, by all means let us follow custom and convention. You choose - after all, you're paying for it.'
Brett hesitated, and then took a ring, a diamond solitaire. ‘I like this one. Do you?'
She was about to answer scathingly, when she saw the owner hovering in the doorway. 'Why, darling, that's wonderful! We both like the very same ring - what a good omen for our future. May I wear it now?' She slipped it on her finger, and picked up her gloves. That would save him the embarrassment of wondering whether he had to kiss her or not. She walked out to the counter and noticed the owner had collected the rest of the rings. As Brett joined her, the owner offered them his congratulations and best wishes. Fern felt the tears spring to her eyes. 'I'll wait in the car, darling,' she said as she made a hasty escape.
The car was locked, but by the time Brett joined her she had herself under control again.
As they drove homewards, Fern was pleased that Brett did not wish to talk; somehow she felt drained of all emotion. She feasted her eyes on the unbroken view of the mountains ahead, feeling somehow more comforted when she recognized Mount Graham, then Doughboy, and finally Camel Back. Silly to think of them as the hills of home.
Brett broke the long silence. 'You didn't tell me that you knew the Hamiltons .'
'I didn't know they lived here. Somewhere on the Coast could be anywhere. Wasn't it fortunate that they didn't see me in my CORSO collection rejection outfit? Think how humiliated you would have been. But I can tell you this, that Jane would still have launched herself on me. One day you'll grow up and learn that you can't tell a book by its cover, nor can you tell a person's character by the clothes they wear,' Fern said bitingly.
'I'd like to say how attractive you look in that suit, Fern, and...'
'And nothing. Remember you don't have to be pleasant or polite to me unless we have an audience. Is that clear?'
'Quite clear,' Brett said stiffly. 'But one more thing I must say. You bought a lot of clothes today. Am I right in thinking you wouldn't have needed them if you hadn't been staying on here at my request?'
'Quite correct.'
Brett hesitated, then, 'Would you allow me to pay for them? I didn't mean to have you out of pocket over this idea.'
'I'd rather walk around stark naked than let you pay for my clothes! And I didn't stay here for your sake, but for your uncle's welfare. You owe me nothing, I owe you nothing, and that's the way it's going to stay.'
The rest of the trip was made in angry silence. When they arrived home Mr. Alexander and Kirsty were in the lounge.
Brett took Fern's hand and led her forward. 'Look what I got in town, Uncle Hamish - a brand new niece for you. Fern and I are engaged.'
Mr. Alexander was wildly excited, insisting that they have a drink to celebrate the occasion immediately. He admired Fern's ring and patted her hand. 'There now, that's the most sensible thing you've done for a long time, Brett. I hope you two will be very happy.'
Watching him, Fern could not judge whether he was aware it wasn't a genuine engagement or not. He appeared to be taking it at face value. But Kirsty was not; she eyed Fern keenly, then leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. 'You're a good girl, Fern.'
Somehow that small compliment made Fern feel much better. Kirsty knew what was happening and why, and she approved.
'What do you think of my new suit, Kirsty?' Fern laughed gaily and struck an exaggerated modelling pose.
'Very neat and tidy.' Kirsty's grey eyes twinkled. 'I'm thinking you should be thinking you should be thanking me for washing all your clothes, so that you had to buy more, whether or no' you needed them. You look fine.'
Mr. Alexander roared with laughing. 'You take that compliment and frame it, Fern, Kirsty is very sparing with praise.'
Kirsty went out to get more cups, and Fern felt Brett take her arm in an iron grip. He led her to the window, out of Mr. Alexander's hearing. 'Why didn't you tell me Kirsty had washed all your clothes?'
Fern glared at him from behind her glasses. 'And spoil your favourite exercise?'
'What exercise?'
'Jumping to conclusions, darling!' she said loudly, so that Kirsty looked up, startled. Fern giggled; poor Kirsty wasn't so sure now.
As they had their cuppa , Mr. Alexander was full of business arranging the date of the engagement party, and was angry when he couldn't have it the following Saturday. 'Why not?'
'Because it's a housewarming, for young Joe and his new wife. I was talking to Mrs. Hamilton about it. It will have to be the following Saturday.'
'Huh! What's Mrs. Hamilton got to do with it? Do you mean to say she knew of your enagegement before us?'
Brett hastened to assure him that as she had met them going into the jewellers , he could do little else. 'Did you know Jane Hamilton and Fern were at school together in Christchurch?'
The old man took the bait. 'Well, she'd know your family, Fern. We must invite them down here. Do you think they'd come for the party?'
Fern shook her head. 'No, I know they wouldn't. Could you leave my family out of it, please? I don't want them.' Things were going to be difficult enough without getting her family involved.
'That's right, I remember. There's something odd about your parents, you wouldn't let us ring them when you were hurt. Funny lot, not caring about a sweet girl like you.'
Kirsty interrupted, 'Brett, if you've told Mrs. Hamilton, you and Fern had better rush over to Smith's. Mrs. Smith wouldn't forgive you if she wasn't first with the news.'
'You're right, Kirsty. Come on, Fern, we can't start our married life with an enemy in the house next door!'
He held her hand on the way over to the new house, even though she protested violently. 'Smithy has sharp eyes, and I may even have to kiss you to convince her.'
'You just dare, and I'll slap your face!' Fern warned him.
'They would think you're a little prudish to resist so fiercely when you've got my ring on your finger.'
'Purely temporarily,' Fern muttered.
As they came out from the trees, Brett caught her in his arms and laughed down at her furious face. 'We've got a full audience - Smithy at the window, Ross on the porch, and Robbie at the gate. One kiss now will be more convincing than a hundred of your synthetic "darlings".' He kissed her not at all gently, and as her free hand came up he caught and held it. 'If you do, I'll kiss you again.'
