Doomed Dynasty Pt. 02

"Thank you Matt," replied Courtney, choking with emotion. "I'm confident I know how to get what I want from men."

Matt opened his mouth to comment on that, but thought better of it.

Patricia smiled. "You're not like you father. On any expenditure other than the farm he would turn the issues around in his head for days, even weeks before announcing his decision."

"Times are changing, mother. What's for dinner?"

Walking hand-in-hand along the beach later that evening, Courtney said to Matt: "Where's Patricia going to live when the builders arrive?"

"She'll just have to move from room to room to keep ahead of them I guess."

Courtney skipped ahead a step and turned to face him. "You worry me, Matt. If it had been something affecting one of your horses or precious bulls you'd have acted and found a solution. Patricia's you mother for god sake!"

"Don't worry darling. I'll think of something. Race you to the steps."

The next day Patricia celebrated her fiftieth birthday quietly, at her request, as it was just over two months after Collier's death.

She enjoyed breakfast in bed and enjoyed Matt and especially Courtney making quite a fuss of her. Courtney presented her with a beautiful wide-brimmed felt hat to wear when she was out walking.

"Our thank you my dear, it's what I need. I've been reading a report in the Reader's Digest that sun causes more damage to your skin that everything else combined baring cuts, burns or acid spills. I think I'll look quite smart in this."

There was a pause, with Matt showing no signs of handing over a present.

Patricia appeared disappointed and probable thought it his way of saying there's a new woman in his life. As Matt was walking out of the room he tossed some keys that landed on her lap. "Happy birthday, mum."

She disliked being called mum. Bewildered, Patricia said to Courtney, "I wonder what I'm supposed to do with these?"

"I'd go out to the garage to find out," Courtney laughed, guessing what this was about.

The word garage triggered an excited response. Patricia padded out barefoot, almost running. There in the garage in the place of her long-serving Morris was a new fawn Volkswagen.

"Oh," she gasped. "It's one of those Beetle things. They look ever so smart."

"Mother, what are you doing out here without your slippers or dressing gown... naughty girl," boomed Matt.

She turned and rushed into his outspread arms.

"Oh Matt! I love the look of it, but really, just a small gift would have done very nicely. It's the thought that counts."

"That's the way I look at it, too," Matt chuckled. "But then I though a nice little car would be just the ticket for someone who's devoted almost a lifetime to me."

The three of them walked back arm-in-arm to the house.

"Courtney's agreed to stay on for a couple of more days to give you driving lessons, as the new car is quite different to your old Morris. She'll be a far more patient and competent instructor than me."

Late in the afternoon five of Patricia's old friends with their husbands arrived for cocktails before going to dinner at the Riverside Café where Matt had ordered his mother's favourite food, a turkey roast followed by apple pie covered in thick Ayrshire cream.

"It must be Ayrshire cream," Matt said when booking and ordering the meal. "Bill Withers has a herd of them. Mum will know if the cream is from some other breed."

Head waitress/manager Muriel Jones was prepared to do anything to please Matt. "I'll ring Barbara Withers right away. She'll drop some in to us as she's in town most afternoons."

Muriel suddenly had an erotic thought about herself and Matt and Ayrshire cream.

"Are you all right, Muriel, you look awfully flushed."

"I'm okay, Matt," she said, unable to look him in the eye just at that moment.

* * *

Courtney returned home from a seven-day stay with Matt and his mother in late February, determined to prepare for change. She decided to spend the next year preparing herself mentally for marriage, particularly in getting used to the idea of having a permanent resident in her new home... her mother-in-law.

Initially, Courtney had balked at accepting Matt's proposal of marriage, but she had her reasons. While her mother had kept up the pressure, wanting to see her daughter marry into money, old farming money, Courtney had been dwelling on Matt the man. Without doubt he had proved himself to be a considerate lover but she worried what would be her quality of life when the passion began to fade, as surely it would.

She thought about Matt who exhibited warmth and charm when meeting people whether or not they knew him but was the warmth sincere? Could he sustain a true friendship with her? Did he even think about such things?

Courtney had already learned that Matt soon tired of small talk and at times even with her preferred not to talk at all when they were alone. He would sit there, his mind on other things, making her feel excluded. It was up to her, concluded Courtney, to deal with that. She was not the sort of person who could live in isolation. Thankfully Patricia would be around for years to act as a backstop.

On her first visit to the Curtis' home, Courtney fell in love with the views that extended past the headland and far out into the moody waters of Cook Strait. The stretch of beach in view was virtually uninhibited, most people preferring the eastern end.

She was delighted that the problem over the shambolic state of the house was being resolved. But another problem remained: the dog, an animal that Courtney described to her mother as "a wheezing and dribbling hound." Actually it was an old Spaniel. She'd suggested to Matt it should be put out of its misery, but he wouldn't hear of it, saying it had been Collier's loyal hunting dog and his father would have wanted it remain in retirement for as long as possible and continuing to have the run of the house.

She also was bothered about a deep-seated guilt. When she'd gone with a party of friends to that wedding on Christchurch on the afternoon Matt made his disastrous visit to her at her parent's home, Courtney had misbehaved. She spent the night on the return ferry trip to Wellington in the bed of the young man Matt had briefly met before they departed for Christchurch, Stanley Hoskings.

It has just happened. They had been partying in his room, and late in the evening friends gradually went off until it was just Courtney and the host left in his cabin. Stanley blew into her ear and softly told her how beautiful she had looked as a bridesmaid, saying she'd been the standout. She then seemed to find his arms and allowed him to do what he wanted.

One day during this period of despondency, an unexpected counsellor and eventual ally came to Courtney's assistance, her mother's baby sister Elizabeth who was not yet thirty. By the time that occurred Courtney had recovered from her initial shock that Elizabeth had been one of her father's secret lovers and her attitude towards Elizabeth had returned to normal. There was a knock one evening. Courtney answered the door and Elizabeth hurried in to escape the wind-driven rain.

"Hullo, darling, I've just dropped in to see Eva."

"They're gone to a departmental cocktail party to welcome the new American ambassador."

"Oh well. It will be more interesting talking to you," Elizabeth smiled. Then, looking closely at her niece added, "My, you look a little wan and unhappy. Something not right?"

That remark unleashed a torrent of words. Elizabeth sat and listened, injecting a few words of comfort from time to time. When the outburst petered out, Elizabeth looked at her niece kindly. "You tell me all of this, and my sister tells me it's going to be a marriage made in heaven. I really don't know all the facts, but it seems to me that she's exaggerating and you have let the little things that concern you balloon out of all proportion."

She sat closer to Courtney, putting an arm around her. "Let's talk about this. Yes, Mrs Curtis sounds to be a little dominating, but if you work hard on that you'll be capable of countering it. I can help you with that. I also think that your Matt sounds like a typical man. They like excitement, they like action, but when their life returns to normal they exhibit signs of boredom. Women cope with this phenomenon by creating greater diversity in their life."

Elizabeth continued: "I've had liaisons with a number of men..."

"Including my father?"

Elizabeth was shocked. "What are you saying?"

"Mother suspects and has suspected for a very long time that you and daddy have...have. Oh, you know."

"Eva knows?"

"She is quite sure, though I don't think she has any evidence."

"My god, Eva knows."

"We have been pretty upset about it but she gave me a long lecture about men and now I don't feel so strongly fussed about you and daddy."

"Oh I've sorry, terribly sorry, Courtney. It finished a year ago. I've leave right now if you wish."

Grasping her aunt's hand, Courtney urged her to stay, saying that her mother had accepted the situation and gradually so had she.

Elizabeth, pale and chastened, hugged her niece and Courtney hugged her back vigorously.

"I'll help you to cut through these misgivings you have about marrying Matt Curtis and I promise you this," Elizabeth vowed. "You will be empowered by the best people I know."

Elizabeth was a senior lecturer in English at the university and immediate past-chairman of the staff and administration liaison committee. She had numerous contacts suitable to call on to help Courtney.

Two weeks later Courtney was at the university at weekends, attending as a late enrolment on a course over six weekends for women in businesses designed to improve skills in assertiveness and to examine the perplexing and quite irrational workings of the male ego.

She enrolled in yoga classes two evenings a week, which Elizabeth said would assist her in both mind and spirit and encourage her to take control of herself.

Those programmes combined to provide Courtney with surprising increased awareness of herself and her self-confidence lifted accordingly. But the most rewarding immersion of all was being invited, as the only outsider, to join the fraternity of unmarried university women lecturers who each Wednesday revealed their true selves during their girls' night out revelry. At first, Courtney appeared to be odd-woman out. But soon she was dragged into the fold and would have appeared to the inhabitants of bars and clubs as being no different to those other women in the group they knew as "raving lunatics from the university."

A few weeks later, aunt and niece attended the regular girls' night out.

"God what a change we're making in you," Elizabeth said, almost in awe.

Courtney had just told her that her mother had attempted to take over all details of the engagement party, virtually excluding Courtney from the planning. But the now more confident Courtney had stood up to her mother, not unkindly in fact, but nevertheless her stance and refusal to yield had resulted in her mother flopping on to the sofa in tears.

"If you can do that to Eva, then that matriarchal Curtis had better watch out. She's about to be dethroned," Elizabeth laughed.

"No don't say that," Courtney said defensively. "Wait until you meet Patricia. I think that even a hard woman like you will be impressed."

Looking at her aunt, vivacious and nearly always so happy, Courtney was suddenly aware that she no longer needed to sort through the possibilities of who her chief bridesmaid would be. She was looking at her.

The engagement party in mid March was a formal affair, held in the ballroom of a hotel in Wellington.

In discussing their personal preparations, Courtney and Matt almost had their first real row. She had insisted that he wear a dinner suit because Charles and all of his invited male friends would be dressed formerly.

"Over my dead body. You won't catch me in a penguin suit, my old rugby mates would never stop ribbing me." A compromise was negotiated. He went to the party, actually quite pleased with himself, wearing a white tuxedo and purple bow tie. From comments of the females in the entourage as family and friends leaving the bar of their hotel for the party venue, he half expected to see women faint in the street when catching sight of him. No one fainted but passers-by smiled as the group formed into a footpath congo.

The ballroom was beautifully decorated and the Sterlings stood at the door greeting everyone. Eva, with two champagnes under her belt plus a Blood and Sand chaser, kissed Matt rather enthusiastically.

Courtney sighed and wondered if her mother would last the full evening. She walked away from her parents, linking arms with her fiancée.

"You look lovely tonight," Matt told her.

"My darling bride-to-be. Let me see the ring."

The diamond flashed under the lights.

He'd made the trip by ferry to Wellington to accompany Courtney to the jeweller's where she'd booked a special 'evening viewing' after shops had closed. Apart from the manager, they had the store to themselves.

Matt had hoped that the inspection and purchase could be completed within an hour as the wanted to go to a re-screening of the western, 'The Man from Laramie', one of his ten best ever movies. But the cinema had emptied and was closing before the final choice was made; the ring had to be left for a slight adjustment for finger size.

"It will be back," muttered Matt, thinking of 'The Man from Laramie', but his comment was not quite understood.

"Of course I'll get it back, silly," replied his elated fiancée. "The jeweller said I could pick it up tomorrow any time after 10 am."

Matt kissed the pretty upturned face and 'The Man From Laramie' rode out of his mind.

An innovation at the party was a continuous supper, suggested by Vikki. She'd thanked Matt when he said she would be invited to the celebration but said she could not go.

She'd cut staff back at the restaurant where custom had tapered off after a busy first couple of months. Attending something as exciting as Matt's engagement party would have lifted her spirits, though she was glad she hadn't yielded to the temptation to accept. After all, Matt had not attended the opening of the café, saying it would be better to maintain a low profile so she cited the same reason for not wishing to attend his engagement party.

Their discreet kissing had become habitual and occasionally a bit of petting was involved, but nothing more than that. Matt always had Courtney half on his mind, and Vikki was in no hurry as she was confident that Matt would come to her eventually.

Several times she had caught herself on the verge of saying "I love you Matt." She feared that such a provocative declaration might send Matt winging away from their tenuous romantic entanglement.

Vikki led another couple to their table, wishing that folk would come in large parties instead of in twos. The restaurant was having another quiet night and that was worrying; the saying in the trade was 'If you can't attract a full house on Saturday nights, it's time to walk'. She had no intention of quitting, but something needed to be done to get more people through the restaurant doors.

Meanwhile in Wellington Charles Sterling, looking very distinguished in his dinner suit and silver hair reflecting a just emerging avant garde look for men of having their hair razor-cut to provide a long, shaggy look; it suited him.

Charles called Eva to the stage, vacated by the band, and she walked up with a slight stagger. Her hair was beautifully permed and sequins sewn into her midnight blue dress caught the eye.

Next to be called up to be introduced was Courtney, who had chosen a light blue strapless gown and had a white stole that Elizabeth had bought for her draped over her shoulders.

As most of the folk there were friends of the Sterling's almost everyone knew her and there was warm applause as she walked up to her parents.

Patricia was next to be called, wearing a gold lame gown that she had purchased that very afternoon. She, too, was warmly applauded when introduced.

Finally, Matt was called to the stage.

One middle-aged woman called rather loudly, "Isn't he gorgeous?"

That unleashed laughter and then applause for Matt with some hearty cat-calling and whistling from mainly his ex-rugby friends who were determined to have a great boozy weekend in Wellington.

As to be expected, after Charles had thanked everyone for attending and for their generous presents, he called on Matt to say a few final words on behalf of newly engaged couple.

Matt spoke confidently and finished by urging everyone to have an enjoyable night. As the cheering was beginning to die, a woman called, "Listen up everyone! Go to it, girl!" screamed Elizabeth, thrilled her niece was about to break a social convention by speaking uninvited.

Courtney spoke sweetly and with humour, thanking her parents, acknowledging the support that she was receiving from Patricia Curtis and also thanked Matt "for finding me." After the laughter subsided, she concluded: "In eleven months from now I'll be off to become a farmer's wife, and I'm looking forward to my new life. But you people of Wellington, rest assured, from time to time I'll be back!"

The Sterlings looked ever so proud of her, as did Matt. Patricia thought to herself, "She's gutsy."

Folk gathered around the happy couple, the eyes of most women resting on the triple strand of pearls around Courtney's slender neck.

"They are real pearl, are they not?" asked a tall aristocratic woman who was well be-jewelled herself.

"Oh yes, Lady Borthwick, they are. Matt selected them out of a catalogue and had them shipped here from San Francisco," Eva said proudly as Lady Borthwick said, "My word."

Returning home, Patricia found to her acute embarrassment a letter that she had started writing to Milly immediately after the engagement announcement. "Oh dear, fancy doing that. I really must be getting old."

She finished commenting about the engagement party, described her own wonderful birthday celebration and then finally wrote about her really big news, at least she hoped it would excite Milly to learn that her sister-in-law was soon to take to the air.

Ten days later, Matt's aunt in Wyoming received two fascinating letters that would wind her up like a clock spring. Walking out to the mailbox through mud after the long-awaited downpour arrived, Milly had expected to return with bills and more bills. Instead she found personal mail. Ignoring the rain, she leant against the post and rail boundary fence and read the first of two letters, the handwritten address of each she recognised with great delight.

The Bridger's were nearing the end of their second trip to Switzerland. Martha's letter announced the she and Lukas would arrive home on the twenty-sixth, now only two weeks away. Everyone was fine and they had attended the birth of Caitlin's baby, a beautiful blonde girl Anna, the only girl's name Caitlin's rather arrogant husband had liked. He had expected a boy because the first babies of his parents and his two married sisters had been boys. Martha wrote that Caitlin's so-called banker was only a senior clerical supervisor in the bank. "If only Matt had become my son-in-law!!!"

Milly opened the second letter and at the second paragraph when she whooped. Ponto thinking she was in trouble came running, actually limping as the previous day a horse had stomped on his foot,

"She's coming, she's coming at last," screamed Milly.

"Who's coming?"

"My sister-in-law Patricia you dumbcluck. She's never visited here before. She's arriving at the end of May and hopes she can stay with us until after Christmas. I can't wait."

Milly finished reading the letter, and went inside and read it twice more.