Matai Valley Magic

by Mary Moore

  Through her thin silk shirt she felt his hands on her back, drawing her closer to him, he held her, comforting her, sooth­ing her as if she was a child. When she stopped crying he still held her, she could feel his cheek against her hair. 'Fem, I can't believe I said such terrible things to you. I must have been out of my mind. I can't even apologize ... to say I'm sorry would be so trite after I'd hurt you so badly. I haven't any excuse to offer, except perhaps I was nervous about buying the ring ... you see, I've never had any experience. Once before you were big enough to forgive me, do you think you could be that generous again, even though I don't deserve it?'

  Fern nodded her head. As always after she'd quarrelled with someone she felt ashamed and drained of energy.

  'Great. Now can we have a truce? I know we can get through the summer without too much friction, if we both try.'

  Fern moved towards the ute . 'I'll buy that.'

  Brett held the door open. 'Before you get in, I'll show you what I have in mind. It's called compromise. You know I don't like you wearing those dark glasses, and I know you don't like being kissed, so ... we compromise. Every time I see you with those things on I'll take it as an invitation to kiss you. If you want to stop me just take them off. Starting from now.'

  'From now? That's not fair.'

  Brett cupped her face in his hands, and she felt his lips brush hers, once, twice, and then again, 'Now will you take them off?' he demanded. 'When I speak to you it's un­nerving to get a beautiful reflection of the Southern Alps from where your eyes should be. It's like talking to a dead person whose soul has departed.'

  Fern smiled. So the glasses were having the right effect, he could no longer read her thoughts. A kiss or two was a small price to pay for such privacy.

  The next kiss was neither short, nor lightly taken. It left Fern shaken, and not a little angry that Brett should have the power to disturb her when she disliked him so much. She realized that she wasn't going to stand much more of this, but if she gave in now, all future compromises would be her giving and him taking. She saw the challenge in his blue eyes. Well, two could play at this game. When he kissed her again she would respond instead of standing there like a wooden Indian; that ought to scare the daylights out of him.

  When his arms went around her, she moved into his em­brace, and putting her arms around him, was delighted to feel his slight hesitation ... that was the last rational thought she had. As his lips met hers, seeking, searching, and demanding, she felt herself responding with a wild joyful passion over which she had no control, wishing that this experience would go on for ever. Then it was over, and she was conscious of his heart pounding in time with her own.

  He gently guided her to the ute seat, and taking her glasses off he folded them and placed them in the pocket of her shirt. 'Enough is enough.'

  He started the engine, but before letting the clutch out he turned towards her, and their eyes met for a long wordless moment. Fern was the first to look away. She took her glasses from her pocket and carefully and deliberately broke them in half.

  'An excellent solution, Fern,' Brett said as he drove off.

  Neither spoke on their way home. Fern was filled with wonder and confusion as she tried to face the implications of the new situation in which she found herself involved. She had to admit, if only to herself, that she was physically at­tracted to Brett ... that was all, purely a physical thing. Also, because she wasn't a fool, she knew that Brett enjoyed holding her, and kissing her, in spite of the fact that he disliked almost everything about her: her behaviour , her way of dressing, and her opinion on practically everything under the sun. No wonder he was pleased with her for breaking the glasses; he had no intention of getting drawn into a difficult relationship with her when Lisa was due to arrive in a few weeks' time. Now that they were both aware of the danger, Fern was sure they would both be anxious not to aggravate it.

  As they walked towards the house, Brett caught her arm. 'Then we can call a truce? After all, we are both civilized people.'

  'I wouldn't count on it,' muttered Fern.

  Brett laughed. 'I do. And remember, it's our business how we became engaged, and nobody else's. It's a pact between the two of us. I promise you that I won't speak of it to anyone. Can you give me your word too?'

  'Certainly.' Fern knew he meant Lisa, and the fact that he could not say her name meant a lot. 'May I have my friend­ship ring back, please?'

  'Sorry, but I don't think it good form to wear it when you've got my ring on.'

  On entering the house, Fern found Kirsty in a mood that Smithy had described as 'sticky'. However, by asking her to help choose a suitable dress for that evening from among the new purchases, she got Kirsty to relent and follow her down the passage. She immediately touched the green full-length gown. 'This one, and if you would wear your hair up ...?'

  Fern nodded in agreement. 'I'll have my shower now, and change.'

  As she took her seat beside Brett at the dinner table, Fern felt a little nervous. Was she capable of playing her part?

  But these people were friends, and they were not looking for faults or flaws, being only too happy to rejoice with the newly engaged couple and show Fern how welcome she was to join the warm, close-knit group.

  As she stood on the steps to say good night with Brett beside her, she knew that they had accepted her completely, and what had at first appeared to be an ordeal had in actual fact turned out to be a very pleasant evening.

  Brett's finger flicked her cheek lightly. 'Thank you, Fern. Now, off to bed. You've had a busy day. Good night.'

  By the time Fern had accompanied him to the house-warming the following Saturday night, she faced her own engagement party with much more assurance. Somehow it seemed no longer strange to be regarded as his fiancee . People took their engagement at face value, and Fern reac­ted accordingly, and became more relaxed. In her more mis­chievous moments, she even flirted a little with Brett as she became sure that he would not take advantage of it.

  The engagement party was at its height when Brett forced his way through to Fern's side. He bent his head to whisper in her ear, 'You're wanted on the phone, a person-to-person call for you from Wellington.' He saw her eyes widen with fear. 'I've had it put through to my office; you wouldn't have a hope of hearing on the kitchen phone. Do you want me to go with you?'

  Fern nodded mutely. Suddenly all the gaiety of the even­ing was gone. Something was wrong at home. They must have had police help to track her down, and her thoughts flew from her parents to her brothers and sister. They had promised not to try and contact her unless there was an emergency.

  She sat in the office chair and reluctantly picked up the phone. 'Fern Fraser speaking.' After a few moments' delay, she heard her father's voice.

  'That you, Fern?'

  'Yes, Dad. What's wrong?'

  'With us? Nothing at all. Your mother has been driving me

  mad ever since she heard of your engagement this afternoon. She says , if you don't consider this an emergency, she does. She wants to know all about the young man.'

  Bewildered, Fern asked, 'How did she find out?'

  'Some school friend of yours down there wrote to her sister in Wellington enclosing a cutting of your engagement notice, and the girl mentioned it to someone else, and eventu­ally it reached your mother. As she happens to be having one of her maternal moods, she threatened me with two options; that I rang you tonight or she would catch the plane to Hokitika tomorrow. You know that she doesn't normally worry about her offspring, bar taking a head count occasion­ally, but once she gets started on what she calls "her duty as a mother", nothing stands in her way.'

  'I do not-'

  'Hush, woman! You said I was to make the call and that's what I intend to do. As you can guess, Fern, your mother is on the extension —'

  'Hi, darling,' Fern said, while her mind whirled busily, trying to think of how to stall her mother from carrying out her threat to fly to the Coast.

  'Oh, Fern, I've bee
n so frantic. Alison raved about how romantic it was , you having been knocked over by this madman and how he took you to his home and you're now going to marry him. She said you'd been unconscious in hospital and had lost your memory and were badly scarred. Is that true?'

  'No.' Fern was feeling quite lightheaded with relief that everyone was well.

  'What do you mean, no? Are you engaged to this... this idiot who ran you down? Why, you can't be. We don't even know his name.'

  Fern's eyes flicked to where Brett was perched on the edge of the desk. 'Yes, I am engaged to him, he isn't an idiot, and his name is Brett Alexander. He didn't knock me down. His uncle was giving me a ride when we crashed, and I'm not scarred. Does that answer all your questions?'

  Not quite.' Her father had now taken control of the con­versation. 'Why didn't you let us know? Are we going to have a chance to meet this young man who is not an idiot? When are you getting married?'

  Fern ignored the first question, having no ready answer. 'Yes, of course you can meet him before we get married, and that won't be for simply ages.' She glanced up at Brett and received no help whatsoever. 'We're going to have a long engagement, a very long engagement.'

  Mrs. Fraser again: 'Is he good-looking?'

  Fern glared at Brett. 'Not at all good-looking. In fact, downright ugly.'

  'Oh, I'm so pleased, Fern darling. Good-looking men are two a penny and have no character. Are you very much in love with him, baby?'

  'No. I don't love him; I became engaged to him because I hated the very sight of him.'

  'You're being facetious. Speak to her, Neil!'

  'I will, if you would be kind enough to release the line for a moment. Well, Fern, why not let us in on such an import­ant event in your life?'

  Fern decided that the best defence lay in attack. 'You promised not to get in touch with me unless there was an emergency. I didn't consider this an emergency, so naturally I didn't inform you.'

  'Not good enough. If you don't give us the real reason, I'll even drive your mother to the airport.'

  Fern knew her father only too well. He didn't make empty threats. The thought of her mother coming threw Fern into a panic. Mrs. Fraser might act vague and not quite with it, but Fern had no doubt that if her mother made the scene, it would take her less than a day to turn up the facts. 'Hang on a moment, please, I've got to shut the door. I can't hear.'

  Fern covered the mouthpiece with her hand. 'Brett, you've got to let me tell them it isn't real. I can't deceive them - not my parents.'

  'You'll have to. For one thing, this is a party line, and you know what that means. For another, as it's taken only ten days for a garbled version to reach your mother, how long do you think it would take to travel back here?'

  Fern had to admit he was right. She lifted the phone. 'You still there?'

  'That must be a very large room you're in, considering the length of time it took you to shut the door,' her father re­marked rather caustically.

  'Sorry, I was trying to work out an answer that will satisfy you and not hurt anyone here,' Fern replied.

  'Difficult?'

  'More than somewhat.' Fern sighed. 'You see, Mr. Alex­ander is very ill indeed - that's Brett's uncle and his only relative. I'm sure you'd be both welcome to come, but I'd prefer it if you left it just now. They've got enough worries without having strangers in the house as well. I feel it would be unfair, and a further strain. Am I getting through to you?'

  'The old chap needs you to nurse him, is that it? Am I correct in assuming that it will not be for long?'

  'Yes!'

  'Sorry to have pushed you so far. So I'll just offer you two my best wishes and trust that you'll bring Brett up to meet us. I wouldn't have rung but for your mother's imagination running riot. Good night, Fern, and God bless.'

  ‘I want to know if I'd like him, Fern,' her mother de­manded.

  'Of course you would, darling. That's another idiotic question. You have very catholic tastes.'

  'Yes, I suppose I have,' her mother said doubtfully, then, 'Hold on a minute, here's Duncan to congratulate you.'

  'Hi, Mouse. Hear you've gone all clucky! I've only one question. Is he sexy?'

  Fern laughed, because Duncan described everything from his car to his football boots as sexy. 'Oh, yes, very. Good­bye, everyone.' Duncan replaced the receiver and she heard a distinct click as she hung up. She gasped and then blushed as she caught Brett's eye. Someone had been listening in on the party line!

  Brett's blue eyes were full of amusement. 'That must have been a very interesting conversation; the half I heard was quite intriguing. I hope your folks are pleased with their future son-in-law. You really gave them the hard sell. I'd love to know what they said at the end to bring such a glorious colour rushing to your cheeks.'

  'You'll never know . .. well , not unless the person who was listening in tells you, and somehow I doubt if they will.'

  Brett took her hand in his as she stood up. 'I'm glad it wasn't bad news, Fern. You were very frightened when you came in here. You're a bit of a fraud, aren't you? You pre­tend you don't care for your family, and they don't worry about you. Some day I'll want to learn a lot more about you, but just now I'm happy to be engaged to a very beautiful and charming young lady.'

  Fern looked up, expecting to find him laughing at her, but he was suddenly serious. The quick retort which sprang to her mind was not spoken. She felt her eyes caught and held in his gaze and was aware of the tension building up be­tween them. Conscious of his nearness and of the very real attraction between them, she waited, knowing that he was going to kiss her. When the door opened, letting a crowd of young people pour in, Fern was shocked at the anger and disappointment she felt. She was made sharply conscious of the tight rein that she would have to hold on her emotions. It was utter recklessness to become so engrossed in playing the part of Brett's fiancee that she began to believe that she was indeed intending to marry him.

  Jane Hamilton and her partner led the group, and Jane said gaily, 'Come on, you two, break it up! You've got the rest of your lives together; tonight you're on display. Mr. Alexander sent us to fetch you. He wants to go to bed, but wants to make the formal announcement before he does.'

  Brett and Fern followed the others back to the large lounge, and when he took her hand in his as they stood beside Uncle Hamish, she felt again the curious heady sen­sation that had come over her in the office. Throughout the rest of the evening, she had a heightened awareness of Brett's presence, whether he was at her side, or moving among the guests with his pleasant easy manner. Somehow it was as if he too was conscious that they had entered another stage in their knowledge of each other.

  Once as she watched him talking to an elderly couple across the room, he turned, as if feeling her gaze, and his eyes lit with laughter and yet managed to convey to her that he found her desirable, that he was proud to introduce her to his friends. She fought down the excitement she felt build­ing up inside her. That was dumb. There was only going to be one person hurt if she played along with this, and that was Fern herself. She had to stop this new development dead cold. He was in love with Lisa, she had ample evidence of that. Of course he wasn't above a pleasant light-hearted affair with her to fill in time, but was Fern? She decided that the answer to that was a definite negative. She had to play it cool, real cool.

  By the time the last guest had left, Fern had herself well in hand. It was her own fault for allowing Brett to believe that there could be anything more between them than ... say, respect, or perhaps friendship. From now on this en­gagement would remain on a strictly unemotional plane.

  When they were alone at last Fern tried to convey the idea to Brett, with marked lack of success.

  He was standing too close to her ... It was unnerving. 'Look at me, Fern.'

  'No. I've made myself quite clear. You do know what a platonic friendship means, I hope?'

  He laughed. 'Sure. No kissing, very dull. You surprise me, you really do. I could even say you dis
appoint me. I thought you were the sort to be honest if it killed you.'

  That brought her head up fast. 'I am honest!'

  'How honest?' he mocked her. 'In the office tonight you knew I was going to kiss you?'

  'Yes.'

  'And you wanted me to?' he relentlessly pressured her.

  Fern felt her cheeks burn. 'Yes.'

  'And now you don't. What's changed?'

  'I've had time to think.'

  'And you think you wouldn't enjoy being kissed by me?' His finger delicately traced the outline of her face.

  Fern held his gaze with difficulty. She knew that she wanted to be kissed by him, more than she'd ever wanted anything before. She knew she only had to lean towards him a fraction of an inch and she would be in his arms. She was trembling, but she stood her ground. 'I didn't say that. What I said was that I didn't want you to kiss me, not now, not ever. We might have weeks or months to live with this en­gagement and I think it's better for both of us if we keep it cool.'

  'Sounds more like a deep freeze.' His eyes searched her face and noted the brilliance of unshed tears in her brown eyes, and the defiant tilt of her small chin.

  To her immense relief, he walked over to the fireplace and lit a cigarette. It was only then that she discovered she had been holding her breath.

  'Okay, Fern, I'll let you call the shots, for now.' He watched the smoke curl up from his cigarette. 'Beats me why your mother called you Fern ... Rose would have been much more appropriate.'

  'Why?' Fern asked, surprised at the turn of the con­versation.

  'Well, like a rose, you look good, you smell good, but if someone takes hold of you they end up picking out the thorns.'

  'I'm sorry,' and she meant it. After all, she had led him on a bit.