by Mary Moore
'Thank you, I'd love to go.' Then a thought struck her. 'I mean, I'd love to go if it's just us two, but if it's a threesome count me out. Is it?'
'Certainly not. Just the two of us. What do you think I am?'
Fern grinned wickedly, 'Don't tempt me!'
The thought that she was going to have Brett to herself tomorrow night for a whole evening added an extra fillip to Fern's enjoyment of New Year's Eve. They were a happy, noisy group, all intent on having a good time, and as Fern reported to Kirsty next morning, 'It was a real gas.'
'And that is good?' Kirsty inquired, noticing how pretty Fern looked.
'Just the best ever,' Fern told her gaily as Brett walked in.
Brett put the milk on the bench. 'And I suppose you're referring to last night. I surmise a dozen chaps kissed you at midnight.'
Fern fluttered her eyelashes coquettishly. 'Not dozens, but hundreds, if not thousands -I didn't count.'
'So one more wouldn't matter?'
'I'd hardly notice it.' Fern's eyes sparkled with fun.
'Good. Happy New Year, Fern darling.' He caught her in his arms and kissed her.
Then he let her go, and said, 'What big eyes you've got, Grandma! Are you surprised that it happens even when there's no moon to magic us? Let me show you again.'
Fern ducked away from him. 'You're embarrassing Kirsty.'
Brett followed Fern, teasing her, 'You're not embarrassed, are you, Kirsty?'
As Fern took shelter behind Kirsty, who was smiling broadly, Kirsty put her hand up. 'Now, now, Brett! If Fern says I'm embarrassed, then I must be.'
Brett grumbled, ' You women, sticking together against one poor man! Well, if Fern thinks you're embarrassed then I'll see you are.' He put his arms around Kirsty and kissed her cheek. 'And a Happy New Year to you too, Kirsty darling.'
As he went to the bathroom to wash, Fern asked, 'Can I wish you a Happy New Year too, Kirsty?' And without waiting for permission she kissed Kirsty also. It was then she noticed a tear moving slowly down Kirsty's wrinkled cheek.
'I'll make the tea now, Kirsty,' she said, to give Kirsty time to compose herself. It made her wonder how long it was since Brett had shown his real affection for the old lady, maybe years ... then she remembered Doctor Walters mentioning that they loved Brett, but were not a demonstrative family.
Fern prepared Mr. Alexander's tray, and carried it down the wide passage. Brett met her half-way. 'Ha! At last I have you alone!'
'You have not, too! I've got Uncle's tray.' She warded him off.
'I'll go along with you and wish him the compliments of the season too.'
'Didn't you do that last night?'
'For your information, I didn't wish anyone anything last night. Lisa went home with the children about eight, and Kirsty and Uncle took themselves off to bed about nine, and I sat and watched TV until it shut down.'
As Fern greeted the old man and placed his tray in front of him, she kept feeling Brett was trying to tell her something, but it was so tremendous she dared not even guess at it... if she was wrong ... no, of course, she was wrong. He loved Lisa, he had not denied it last night... he was just in a crazy mood.
Uncle Hamish had his bright eyes on her. 'You look very chipper this morning, Fern. Like someone who's lost a penny and found a shilling. Did you have a good time last night?'
' Fantastic,' and catching Brett's gaze across the bed she blushed. 'I'll be back for your tray.'
But Brett caught her at the door, and picked her up in his arms. Turning to his uncle, he said, 'If you want to know what gave her such a glorious colour , watch.'
Just before he kissed her, he queried, 'Are you sure you can't tell one man's kiss from another's? I'll guarantee you'll notice the difference this time.'
And she did.
At breakfast he asked, 'What would you like to do today, Fern?'
Fern looked at Kirsty. 'If you've made any plans, I'll fit in with them. But if everyone's doing their own thing I'd like to make myself a dress for tonight.'
Kirsty asked, 'What about your long green frock?'
'Oh, it's a bit formal. Jane and her friends are all wearing the new country-style gear, and if you'll give me the gingham you bought for the new curtains, I could run one up in a matter of hours. I'd replace the curtain stuff next week, if you'd let me?'
'I'm damned if I'll take you to a ball wearing curtains ...'
'Be quiet, Brett,' Kirsty said firmly. 'Show me a sketch. Get that pencil and paper.'
Quickly Fern drew the simple pattern she intended to use. 'The other girls have lace here at the bodice and at the sleeve here, and I think Jane has a width round about four inches from the hem, like this, but it doesn't have to be too elaborate.'
'Now that's a womanly style. Certainly you can have the gingham, and I've got quite a lot of lace, you can sort through it and take what you need.'
'Very rustic,’ commented Brett. ‘I suppose you won't need any flash jewellery , just stick a straw in your mouth and you'll all look like scarecrows.'
'If you don't want to go with me, I'll get someone else,' Fern threatened.
'Who said I don't want to go with you? I only made a fair comment. I'll wear my very best rustic gear to match. If you ladies are going to be busy all day making dresses, I'm off down to the Kokatahi Gun Club. I'll be back for lunch. Good-bye.'
Fern and Kirsty were so engrossed in conversation they hardly heard him.
'I think I'll shoot myself,' Brett stated.
'That's a good idea, Brett,' Kirsty answered. 'Don't be late for lunch.'
Brett roared laughing and went out, shutting the door behind him. Kirsty and Fern looked at each other, mystified. Fern said, 'Men!' and Kirsty nodded, 'They can be trying.'
As soon as the table was cleared, Fern brought out the gingham and Kirsty put a heap of lace on the end of the table. After a while Mr. Alexander wandered through and sat down on the Colonial couch, content to watch the women working.
By lunch time it was finished, and Fern went to try it on for the last time. This time she made up her face, put sandals on and brushed her long hair smooth and shining, then caught it below each ear with a wide green satin bow. Then fearing that she'd cut the neck too low, she added the Celtic cross. It was perfect.
She went out to the kitchen to show the others. Standing with her hands carefully clasped in front of her, she asked demurely, 'You like?'
Kirsty and Uncle Hamish were full of praise, Uncle about her appearance, and Kirsty because she had been so quick to sew up the dress. Satisfied, Fern hurried back to her room as she saw Brett coming round the path. He could wait till this evening. She changed into her shorts and top and went out to join them at lunch.
'Don't I get to view the masterpiece?' Brett questioned.
But Fern was adamant. 'No.'
Brett went back to the Gun Club and Fern drove Kirsty and Uncle Hamish up to the Gorge to have a picnic afternoon tea. She had to fight down the rising excitement which came over her each time she thought of the Ball. She was dumb. Knowing what she did, and still hoping was stupid. But she couldn't help speculating.
After dinner she changed into her gingham dress, and put on a little more make-up than she had used in the afternoon. She went into the lounge to wait for Brett.
He had changed all right. He was wearing a pair of work shorts that were threadbare and torn, a handkerchief around his neck and heavy hobnailed boots. 'Do I look a proper partner for a scarecrow?'
Kirsty told him just what he looked like in no uncertain terms.
Brett grinned, 'I'm sure Fern wouldn't agree with you. She says it's not the clothes that count, but the person inside them. Isn't that true, Fern?'
Fern giggled, 'I'm ready when you are.'
'You mean it? You'd go with me dressed like this?'
'It'd be a real gas. But you've got to promise not to walk on me with those boots when we're dancing.'
'You know, I think you really would.'
Mr. Ale
xander spoke in a tone that brooked no contradiction. 'Young man, Fern has spent some time prettying herself up for you, and if she's prepared for you to escort her in those clothes, I am not.'
Brett chuckled, 'But I wasn't thinking of asking you to be my partner.' But he left the room hurriedly.
When he came back he took Fern's hand. 'Let's get out of here before Uncle sends me back to polish my shoes, and Kirsty scrutinizes my neck to see if I've washed properly. Goodnight, all.'
Brett helped her into the car, and made sure her long skirt wasn't caught in the door. 'You look very sweet tonight, Fern.'
'Thank you kindly, sir. Actually, you don't look too bad yourself.'
'That's praise indeed.'
After that they were silent, but it was a friendly silence.
Inside the hall, Fern waved across the room to Jane. Brett pointed to some empty seats at the far end of the Hall. 'We can go and join Jane and her friends, or we can sit down there by ourselves - say the word.'
'We'll sit by ourselves now, and maybe join the gang later. Okay with you?'
'Very okay.'
The first dance was the Twist, so Fern had no breath to talk. The next was a gorgeous dreamy waltz. 'They cater for all tastes here tonight,' Brett remarked as he drew her into his arms. Fern felt so close to him, not only physically, but mentally, that she didn't dare speak and risk spoiling this precious moment. It was as if this week had never happened, as if this night followed Christmas night.
When they were seated once more, Fern felt brave enough to ask, 'Why are you being so nice to me today?'
'Haven't I been nice to you all the time?'
'Of course you haven't, Brett. So don't dodge the question.' Fern felt she had to know.
'Well, I did a lot of thinking last night. I even tried your suggestion on Uncle, and he threw a pink fit, even though I had made a joke about it to test the ground. So it looks like we'll have to stay together a bit longer. I thought we might as well enjoy it.'
As Fern looked bleakly down the dance floor, she shivered as if ice cold. What a damned fool she'd been! The way she'd jumped at the chance to be friends with him again.
She was pathetic, that was the only word that fitted her behaviour - pathetic.
'Hi, I was looking all over for you, Brett.'
Fern lifted her gaze and saw it was Lisa wearing a slinky black gown that fitted her as if she had been sewn into it. Fern wasn't even surprised to see her. It all went together like a jig-saw puzzle. A kiss in front of Kirsty, to set her mind at rest, a kiss in front of Mr. Alexander to show him everything in the garden was lovely, and she had thought his affection was genuine. How could she have been so crazy, so - so - easy! She writhed inwardly at the thought.
She stood up. 'Have my seat, Lisa. I'm just going over to talk to Jane.'
She never gave Brett one glance. Not that it had been his fault ... it was all her own wishful thinking. But never again. She avoided Jane and went through to the ladies' powder room. She had to have a few minutes to pull herself together again. She knew she had to go back there, laughing and gay, and pretending she was having a wonderful time. When she heard the music start again she returned to the hall, and joined Jane. 'Hi, everybody. Mind if I join you?'
Darcy, with whom she'd been last night, put his arm around her, and whooped, 'Fern, just the girl I've been waiting for! May I have this dance with you, and book another for later? Once this mob sees you're on the loose I won't get a look in.'
'You can have as many as you want, Darcy.'
'Well, what are we waiting for? ' .
Jane whispered quietly, 'Is that the opposition?'
Fern nodded.
'Gee, I'm sorry, Fern. I hope she sneezes and then her plunging neckline will become topless, as if it isn't nearly that already. You come back here with Darcy after this dance. You won't have to worry about partners, the boys thought you were great last night.'
Darcy, who had been waiting impatiently just out of earshot, said, 'Come on, Fern, you two can yak in between dances.'
Fern followed him on to the floor, smiling. Yes, she would have a good time with Darcy tonight. No chance of getting involved there, he was very much in love with his girl, and most of his conversation consisted of singing her praises. And he was a superb dancer, good-looking, too ... what more could a girl ask for in a partner?
During the next interval Brett came across the room.
'Fern, I'd like to speak to you, in private, if you'll excuse us.'
Fern moved a small distance away from the group, and stopped. 'Fire away.'
'First, I didn't invite Lisa to the ball, and I didn't know she was coming. ..'
Fern's laughter was a shade brittle. 'You know, that's a good story. I'd stick to it if I were you. I don't know why you feel you should explain yourself to me. It's your uncle and Kirsty you're out to impress, and I have to admit that you really were outstanding today - you nearly had me fooled, but not quite.'
'Would you please come back and sit with us? I'll get someone to take her off my hands. I can't walk off and leave her. If you don't it will give cause for comment.'
Fern flared, 'Do me a favour , please ... Get lost! As for comment, you're a bit late to start worrying, everyone is gossiping already. As for sitting with you and Lisa, you're out of sight, you really are. What are your plans? - one dance with me, and then it's her turn? Grow up, Brett baby, I would share a lot of things with a lot of people, money, clothes, bed and board, even my last crust I'd be willing to share, but one thing I won't share is a man. You'd better believe it.'
She turned away and walked back to Jane. As she moved she thought the bit about the stiff upper lip would be a lot easier to manage than a perpetual grin.
The evening went on and on and on. Fern knew that it was her own fault that the evening was turning into an endurance test. The band was really swinging, the floor glass-smooth, and everyone else was on cloud nine as far as she could guess.
Darcy had been happy to see her back. 'Must be my New Year luck. I thought Brett was going to hijack you.'
'He tried.'
As they were performing a very spirited version of the Canadian Three-Step it wasn't a good time for conversation, which pleased Fern.
Later on, after she had listened to all Anne's perfection, from a delightfully biased Darcy, he hesitated. 'I must be the most boring partner you've ever been forced to spend an evening with?'
Fern laughed with genuine amusement. 'You have a poor opinion of yourself. It's somewhat rare to find anyone so unashamedly in love with a girl. I think it's beautiful. If I had the pick of the hall I'd have chosen you ... I don't feel much like talking, and you're interesting and easy to listen to, I love dancing and you're a super partner. Feeling better?'
'Much. About dancing - that's the only thing we haven't got in common - Anne, I mean.'
'I'd never have guessed,' Fern teased. 'Doesn't she like dancing?'
'Worse, she can't dance, and she refuses to let me teach her.'
Fern replied, 'If I couldn't dance I'd be darned if I'd let my boy-friend teach me. What, and let him know how clumsy I was? However, if I loved him very much and knew he wanted to dance with me I'd be inclined to go to a school of dancing and have a few lessons.'
'Do you think she would? I could pay for the lessons, sort of give it to her for a birthday present. Do you think she'd be upset?'
'She's your girl-friend, work it out for yourself. If you maybe dropped a hint about some mutual acquaintance who has become a wonderful dancer through having a few lessons, she may grab at the chance. It would be better if she believed that she'd thought it up herself. Then she would try all the harder to give you a pleasant surprise.'
'You know, you're not only a pretty face, you've got brains. And you don't look clever, either,' Darcy said with a smile.
'Flatterer!'
'You know, I was only kidding. You've helped me with something that was a worry, how about letting me return the favour ? You'
re still wearing Brett's ring, so you must be still engaged to him, but here you are spending the evening with me. Not that I'm complaining, mind, but Brett's a great chap, and if it's just a silly tiff, maybe I could act as go-between and fix it up. If I'm talking out of turn, just slap me down.'
'You're right on all counts, he's a great guy, I'm wearing his ring, and we're still engaged, and we've had not a tiff but a flaming great row, and I appreciate your offer of peacemaker but I would rather fight my own battles. Now we'll forget all about it and talk about your Anne.'
'If that's the way you want it, okay. I'm booking you up for every dance except the last one.'
Fern pretended to be hurt. 'Don't you think you will last the course?'
Darcy explained hurriedly, 'The last dance here is special as far as the locals are concerned. You only dance the last dance with someone you care for, like a husband and wife, or engaged couples, or if you're going steady. Even perhaps if you've only met a girl here tonight, and you've sort of clicked, you often see the start of a new romance during the last waltz of the New Year's Ball. It doesn't count if you come from town, only if you live in the district. You'll see all those older couples up on the floor, and believe me, they could dance most of us young ones off the floor.'
'I think it's a lovely custom. If you're not dancing the last waltz, I'll go out to the car as well.'
The next dance was a Veleta , and everyone kept changing partners. Inevitably she met Brett and he stated, 'You'll save the last dance for me.'
'I've heard about the tradition of the last waltz, and I think you should dance it with Lisa; it would bring back many happy memories. I'll be out in the car waiting for you.'
As she changed partners again she was angry to find her hands were shaking. He had no right to order her around. He never asked, not Alexander the Great, he just expected everyone to fall in with his wishes.
When the M.C. called, 'Ladies and gentlemen, take your partners for the last dance, if you please,' Fern and Darcy started towards the door, after saying goodnight to the others in the party, as they swung two by two on to the floor.
'I'll drive you home if you like, Fern. I've got to go past your place anyway,' Darcy offered.
