by Mary Moore
Fern didn't answer; there was nothing to say. She was amazed how steady her voice was as she read to the children. She even got the right tones for the different animals. She had just read the last page when Lisa came in. They were pleading for more.
Fern shut the book. 'I'm off home. You can read some to Jack, Sally.'
Sally said sadly, ‘I can't read as good as you. Jack doesn't like it when I read it to him, and I don't like it too.'
Lisa waited till Fern stood up. 'Really, Fern, I thought you'd know better! Fancy inside and reading on such a lovely day. The children should be outside enjoying the sun and fresh air. You should have gone with Brett, we had a super time. Make me a cup of tea, please. Smithy, I'm whacked.'
'Make it yourself, Lisa. I'm busy,' Smithy retorted sharply. 'Going now, Fern love? Thanks for coming over.'
Fern waved and went out the door. She wished she hadn't gone to Smithy's. She didn't want to be the instrument which would send Kirsty away from the farm. It was too big a load to carry. She knew she'd lost. Brett wouldn't have told Lisa the secret unless he intended to marry her. She didn't want to think of Brett. Not now, not ever. She sat on the garden seat, not thinking, just sitting, her elbows on her knees, her face cupped in her hands, staring blankly down the rose garden, not thinking, not seeing, just being.
It was quite a time before the angry raised voices penetrated and even longer to recognize that they were Brett's and Mr. Alexander's. She stood up and hurried towards the front door. What was Brett thinking about, storming at his uncle like that... Dear God, stop them before any damage is done. Brett will never forgive himself if his uncle has a heart turn.
Even then she hesitated at the door ... they mightn't like her butting in... It might stop now. She leant her hot cheek against the door jamb. Please let them stop.
Mr. Alexander was shouting, 'I tell you, I saw it myself. Fern didn't tell me. There she was as bold as brass, riding Gypsy. And you, you great buffoon, had given her permission. That's my horse, and while I'm alive no one but Fern will ride her...'
'You're not being fair. Lisa is a better rider than Fern.'
'I know it all. I know that you took Fern to the ball, and you danced all night with that woman. You pretended you were taking Fern on the boat, and it was just a rotten cover-up. You intended to take Lisa all the time. Well, what sort of man are you? I thought you were something fine, something special, but you're not. A real man would never humiliate the girl he was going to marry. Not the way you've treated Fern.'
Fern was crying now, quietly and painfully. So this was to be the end of her visit, setting Brett and his uncle against each other.
She wiped her eyes, and marched into the room; this had gone far enough.
Mr. Alexander was clutching his chest, and leaning on a chair for support. 'Get away from me! You ring my solicitor and have him get out here now. I won't die until I've changed my will. Her kids are not going to inherit this place, your children can ...'
Fern reached him as he fell. Immediately the nurse took over and the forlorn girl was gone. 'Brett, help me lift him on to the settee - gently now. Good, I'll take it from here. Ring Dr. Walters, tell him what happened and listen carefully to his instructions. Go on!'
She found the heart tablets she was searching for in his top pocket. 'Get me a glass of water, Kirsty, please, then pillows and a rug. He mustn't be moved again till the doctor gets here. Thanks.' She took the glass of water. 'Oh, good, you're awake again, Uncle. You had a bit of a turn, so now lie quietly. I want you to try and swallow this pill. That's good, don't be frightened, everything is all right. I'll look after you, and Dr. Walters is on his way. Now lie back, that's good. Just rest.'
Brett came back from the telephone, his face white under his tan. 'How is he?'
'He's fine, just fine. I've given him a pill... it's all right, Uncle, it's only Brett. Take his hand, Brett, he's trying to say something, and he won't rest till he's said it.'
Brett took the small withered hand in his. 'It's Brett.'
Mr. Alexander held Brett's hand tightly. 'Sorry, boy, my fault.'
Brett's voice was husky. 'No, I'm sorry, too.' A muscle quivered in his cheek. Fern was watching her patient. 'I think he's asleep now, Brett. Keep a hold of his hand, it will give him confidence if he wakes up.' She glanced again at her watch. 'What did Dr. Walters say ... you did get him?'
'He said one pill immediately, the ones he carries with him, and another in a quarter of an hour. He's on his way.'
'Good. He's had one now. Oh, thanks, Kirsty.' She took the rug from her and the pillows, and placed them as she had been taught in hospital. There was nothing to do but wait.
She saw Kirsty's face, grey and strained.
'Kirsty, please pour two brandies, and bring them to me.' Fern took Mr. Alexander's pulse again. Her face gave nothing away. A nurse must remain calm, serene and confident.
'Thank you, Kirsty. Drink one yourself, and give one to Brett.'
Kirsty hesitated, and Brett shook his head.
'Drink it up, Kirsty. You've had a bad shock, and you may have to help with nursing tonight. That's good. Now could you please make us all a cup of tea?'
Kirsty swallowed her brandy obediently and went out to make a cup of tea that nobody wanted. But Fern knew that Kirsty would feel better if she felt she was doing something to help. With luck Dr. Walters would be here before the kettle boiled.
'Brett, please drink this. It will help you, and it may be a long night tonight.'
He took the glass from her, and swallowed its contents in one gulp. He did not speak. Fern glanced again at her watch. She took one pill from the bottle and then shook Hamish gently. 'Wake up, Mr. Alexander, time for another pill. There now, swallow it down - here's the water. Swallow it. Good, now you can go back to sleep.' She took his pulse again, and thought it had a fairly strong beat, if somewhat erratic. For the first time, she felt that he might make it. It was a slim chance...
Dr. Walters drove up and seemed to move from his car to the settee in one movement, in spite of his weight and age.
'Brett, I'd like a couple of minutes with your uncle and the nurse. Please shut the door on your way out. Take Kirsty with you.'
'Right, Fern. Tell me what you know, clearly and concisely.' He listened attentively, then called on her to help him with tests he must do.
As she obeyed him, Fern recognized yet again the relief she felt at the sight of a doctor, coming up the ward in the lonely night duties, when she was nursing.
Mr. Alexander woke again briefly. 'You're not to take me to hospital. I want your word on that. I want to die in my own bed.'
'You're not going to die if I can help it, Hamish. I've a few more fees to collect from you. If you don't want to go to hospital, that's it, you have my word.' - Hamish went back to sleep.
'Bring those two in now, Fern.'
He stood looking down at Mr. Alexander until they came in, and then moved over to the fireplace. He knocked out his pipe, then slowly filled it and lit it with a match. He drew on the pipe twice, and then spoke. 'As far as I can ascertain, Hamish has had a small heart attack. I'd like to get him into hospital to run a few checks on him, but he's set on staying in his own bed. I gave him my word, and I'll keep it. Perhaps in a couple of days he may not be so reluctant, and we'll take him in then. You two both know what's ahead of him, he could go in a few minutes, or tonight, or not for weeks. With Fern here I'm prepared to leave him. Moving him now may upset him, and do more harm than good. What are your feelings, Brett? Would you prefer he stayed or would you rather I sent an ambulance out for him?'
Brett's colour had returned as the doctor spoke. 'I'd want him home if at all possible. Providing Fern is willing to stay?'
'I'll take that as read. And I can assure you she is a very competent and efficient nurse. You were fortunate she was here. You, Kirsty, speak up. Here, or in hospital? There is a risk, you know.'
'Whatever Mr. Hamish wants,' Kirsty answered tin-hesitat
ingly.
'Right, everything's settled. Fern, you go ahead and prepare the bed. Brett will carry him there as soon as you're ready. Kirsty, will you go and brew up, and when he's in his own bed, I'll give you your instructions, Nurse.'
For a whole week Fern rarely left his room. She had a bed moved in and slept lightly, unless Kirsty or Brett were taking their turn to sit by him. The doctor called every day, the first time to bring all she would need for specialling a heart patient, even a wheelchair to take him through to the toilet and back. His improvement was rapid and he soon became impatient to be up and about. Finally, Doctor Walters persuaded him to go into hospital for two days for a check-up. Dr. Walters was an old hand at the game. He cunningly exaggerated Fern's exhaustion from nursing Hamish throughout the past week. He wanted him in hospital so that Fern could have a rest and catch up on her sleep.
'I'm not going in the ambulance. If you want me, you can take me in your car now. But I'm only going for Fern's sake, she's been a grand girl to me, and no doubt to the others.'
As Brett took him out to the car he kept growling, 'This old coot just wants me for a guinea-pig, so he can try out all his new gadgets. But I'll be back. You look after Fern, Brett. And get all this damned junk out of my room before I get back, or there'll be trouble.'
Fern sat at the table after Mr. Alexander had left. Her face had a fine-drawn look. 'It's been a long week,' she sighed as if too tired to go on.
Brett answered, 'It has indeed. Drink your tea, and off you go to bed. I promised Uncle I would look after you, and I mean to do just that. You were in charge when he was sick, but now I'm the boss. You'll do as I say.'
Fern gave a wan smile.
Brett continued, 'Kirsty wants me to say how much we appreciate your presence here, and your kindness to Uncle Hamish. I'll never forget it.'
'Aren't you going to pay me for all that hard work?' Fern managed a proper smile this time.
'I am not.'
'Good, I see you're learning. I will go to bed, if you don't mind, Kirsty. I think I'll sleep the clock round, so don't wake me for meals, please.'
Kirsty agreed reluctantly. 'For today only. You must eat your meals. I don't know what Mr. Hamish will say when he comes home. Your clothes are just hanging on you.'
'I'll eat like a horse, Kirsty, but not today.' Fern walked down to her room thoughtfully. It wasn't the nursing which made her lose weight, but those long nights with too much to think about.
Next morning she was surprised to see the sun when she woke. She showered and dressed, then went out to the kitchen. 'And a fine large morning it is, Kirsty. Have you been through to the hospital yet?'
Kirsty's face was wreathed in smiles. 'Mr. Hamish will be home tomorrow. The tests were... what did they say ... oh, yes. "Much as they expected". When I think about what would have happened had you not been here when he had the first attack ... Fern, I'm so very, very grateful. I know you don't want thanks, but I had to say it. You took charge so calmly that it helped Brett and me to keep our heads instead of panicking.'
Fern said with a smile, 'Somehow the picture of you and Brett panicking is hard to conjure up. If I hadn't been there you would have rung Dr. Walters and followed his instructions. I'm glad I was there to help, but don't feel under a load of obligation to me. I only did what any nurse would do in similar circumstances.'
Brett came in. 'Hi, Fern. Did Kirsty tell you the good news? Great, isn't it? You look wonderfully refreshed. I'm riding over the Hokitika river , up past your favourite creek, Harris Creek. I have to ride over the block to assess what improvement it needs, and trim it down to what I can afford. Would you like to ride with me?'
'I'd love to.' Fern looked at him outlined in the doorway, and knew she would carry this moment in her mind for ever. He was tall and rangy, wearing only shorts and sandals, and tanned almost the colour of deep mahogany. The wind gently ruffled his thick black hair, but it was the light in his eyes that Fern knew she would never see again. It was gratitude and respect, and perhaps tenderness. Fern knew it for what it was, she had seen that look in the eyes of a patient's family many times before. She had always taken it as a tribute to the nursing profession, not to herself personally, but just this once she would take it for herself and hold it in her heart.
'I thought you might, so I've saddled Gypsy. We've nearly finished the haymaking while you've been caring for Uncle. Robbie will mow the last paddock today. We've been very lucky with the long spell of dry weather, it will break soon. Tomorrow we'll put the last lot in, and it feels good to have a full barn and then some. We'll have to see Fern has a good breakfast, it'll be a long day.'
Fern made the tea while Kirsty served the breakfast. Fern wanted to say something to Kirsty and this was the best moment, before Brett returned.
'Kirsty, I know you heard most of the quarrel between Brett and Mr. Alexander last Saturday. I hope you'll believe me when I tell you that everything Brett was accused of was my doing. He wanted me to dance with him that night, but I was mad at him, and he didn't ask Lisa to go on the river with him, in fact, he refused to take her, but I was still angry, so I pushed her into the car and ran off. As for Lisa riding Gypsy, Brett was telling the truth, she is a much better rider...'
Kirsty held up her hand. 'That's enough, Fern. I know you and I know Brett, and whatever you may think I'm neither deaf nor blind. You mustn't blame yourself for what happened, and I won't blame you, nor will I blame Brett. I love and trust you both. Ah, there you are, Brett, breakfast is on the table.'
Fern ate her breakfast with a hearty appetite. That was one thing behind her. Kirsty was a dear to be so understanding . Uncle Hamish had reacted in the same way when she'd told him a few days ago. She had a feeling Brett also would go along with her suggestions. That was why she was so pleased to be having the day with him. She had thought it all out through this last week, and knew exactly what she had to do. Brett was planning to marry Lisa, but after the quarrel last week there could be no question of telling Mr. Alexander. There was no reason on earth why she couldn't be friends with Brett, now. Friendship might be second best, but it was better than nothing.
Brett and Fern rode all morning, checking the boundary fences. Fern listened with interest as he explained what he hoped to accomplish, and how he would set about it.
When the sun was directly above them, Brett suggested they take their lunch up the old mill track. Fern sat relaxed and easy in the saddle while Gypsy picked her way delicately up the old abandoned tram track. When Brett stopped, so did Gypsy. Fern looked around while Gypsy drank thirstily from the little mountain stream which crossed their path, then disappeared over the steep hundred-foot drop in a gleaming, glistening waterfall.
After tying the horses and loosening the girth straps, Brett led the way to the edge of the bluff, and sat down. 'Great view of the farm you get up here. Share this black pine stump with me?'
Fern sat down and opened her lunch packet, while trying to pick out familiar spots on the farm that lay spread out in front of them. The chorus of the native birds, tuis and bell-birds and the whirrr of the pigeon wings made beautiful background music to the babble of the stream and the muted roar of the waterfall.
As Fern finished her lunch she glanced at Brett and his blue eyes caught and held hers. Fern was again the first to look away. She bent to pick up a twig.'Brett , you're always wanting to take me off and ear-bash me. Will you listen to me having my say?'
'Shoot.'
'Well, here goes. The day Uncle had his heart turn I found out a few things I would rather not have known.'
'Such as?' Brett didn't sound angry, just encouraging her to speak.
'Brett, what will happen to Kirsty when you marry?'
'Nothing. Why should it?'
'Say your wife didn't like Kirsty, and I suppose it's only fair to think that a new wife would want her house to herself?'
'We're not talking about you, I presume?' Fern shook her head, and he continued, 'Kirsty will more than
likely stay with us, but if she couldn't get along with my wife, then I'd have to make some other arrangements. One thing I could do would be to build a small cottage near the pines. She'd be close enough for me to keep an eye on, and yet independent. However, it's a hypothetical question, and I somehow feel the girl I marry will get along fine with Kirsty.'
A fat lot he knew! 'You'd never let her be sent to town to those pensioners' flats? I know they're quite nice, but Kirsty is too old to take to town life.'
'You're a funny little thing. All this concern for Kirsty, all of a sudden! You should know me well enough by now to realize she'll be well looked after, always.'
Fern knew Brett was watching her, but she kept her eyes on the river away in the distance. 'Yes, I suppose I do. But it's always nice to be reassured.'
'Yes, it is, isn't it, Fern?'
Fern heard the amusement in his voice, but she was determined not to be sidetracked. She had to get it all out now, while she still had this curious detached feeling, probably the result of a week in almost solitary confinement.
'I've explained to your uncle and to Kirsty that it was my fault, all those stupid things he was quarrelling about.
'Were they happy to blame you instead of me?' Brett asked.
'Not exactly. Kirsty said she loved and trusted us both, and she didn't think anyone was to blame, just force of circumstances. Uncle Hamish was just as understanding.'
'That was very thoughtful of you, Fern, to try and clear my name. Thank you.'
Again the merest hint of laughter in his voice.
Fern bent foward , letting her hair fall forward to screen her face. 'I know you're going to marry Lisa, when I leave here. I think it's a bit hard on the two of you to carry on as if there was nothing between you.' Fern cleared her throat, and carried on, 'I'm prepared to help you all I can ... I mean if you want to use me as a cover, that's okay. I've been a bit stupid, but I know what I'm doing now. If you like, I'd be happy to consider you a good friend, and hope you'll feel the same towards me.
‘I know we've had our ups and downs, but I think with a little understanding on both sides, we should have a reasonably sound basis for a friendship.'
