It. She was not a pretty girl, her face was too broad and flat, but she

had that rare skin that too seldom goes with red hair: creamy unfreckled

purity.

Do you want to buy anything, Sean?

Sean placed the carbine back in the rack. Just looking he said. Are

you working in the store now? Yes She dropped her eyes from Sean's

scrutiny. It was a year since he'd last seen her. A lot can change in

a year; she now had that within her blouse which proved she was no

longer a child. Sean eyed it appreciatively and she glanced up and saw

the direction of his eyes; the cream of her skin clouded red. She

turned quickly towards the trays of fruit. would you like a peach?

Thanks, said Sean and took one.

How's Anna? asked Audrey.

Why ask me? Sean frowned. You're her beau, aren't you? Who told you

that! Sean's frown became a scowl. Everybody knows that. Well,

everybody's wrong. Sean was irritated by the suggestion that he was one

of Anna's possessions. I'm nobody's beau. Oh! Audrey was silent a

moment, then, I suppose Anna will be at the dance tonightVMost probably.

Sean bit into the furry golden peach and studied Audrey. Are you going,

Strawberry Pie? No, Audrey answered wistfully. Pa won't let me.

How old was she? Sean made a quick calculation . . .

three years younger than he was. That made her sixteen.

Suddenly Sean was sorry she wouldn't be at the dance.

That's a pity, he said. We could have had some fun. Linking them

together, with the plural we, Sean threw her into confusion again. She

said the first words she could think of, Do you like the peach? It's

from our orchard. I thought I recognized the flavour. Sean grinned and

Audrey laughed. Her mouth was wide and friendly when she laughed. I

knew you used to pinch them. Pa knew it was you. He used to say he'd

set a man-trap in that hole in the hedge! didn't know he'd found that

hole, we used to cover it up each time. Oh, yes, Audrey assured him, we

knew about it all the time. It's still there. Some nights when I can't

sleep I climb out of my bedroom window and go down through the orchard,

through the hedge into the wattle plantation.

It's so dark and quiet in the plantation at night, scary, but I like it.

You know something, Sean spoke thoughtfully. if you couldn't sleep

tonight and came down to the hedge at ten o'clock, you might catch me

pinching peaches again It took a few seconds for Audrey to realize what

he had said. Then the colour flew up her face again and she tried to

speak but no words came. She turned with a swirl of skirt and darted

away among the shelves. Sean bit the last of the flesh off the peach

pip and dropped it on the floor.

He was smiling as he walked across to join the others. Hell's teeth,

Karl, how much longer are you going to be?

There were fifty or more wagons outspanned around the perimeter of the

square but the centre was left open, and here the braaivleis pits were

burning, the flames already sinking to form glowing beds. Trestle-tables

stood in two lines near the fires and the women worked at them cutting

meat and boerwors, buttering bread, arranging platoons of pickle

bottles, piling the food on trays and sweetening the evening with their

voices and laughter.

In a level place a huge buck-sail was spread for the dancing and at each

corner a lantern hung on a pole. The band was tuning with squeaks from

the fiddles and preliminary asthma from the single concertina.

The men gathered in knots amongst the wagons or squatted beside the

braaivleis pits, and here and there a jug pointed its base briefly at

the sky. I don't like to be difficult, Waite, Petersen came across to

where Waite was standing with his captains, but I see you've put Dennis

in Gunther's troop. That's right. Waite offered him the jug and

Petersen took it and wiped the neck with his sleeve. It's not you,

Gunther, Petersen smiled at Gunther Niewehuisen, but I would be much

happier if I could have Dennis in the same troop as myself. Keep an eye

on him, you know.

They all looked at Waite to hear what he would say. None of the boys

are riding with their fathers. We've purposely arranged it that way.

Sorry, Dave. Why?

Waite Courtney looked away, over the wagons at the furious red sunset

that hung above the escarpment. This isn't going to be a bushbuck

shoot, Dave. You may find that you'll be called upon to make decisions

that will be easier for you if you're not making them about your own

son. There was a murmur of agreement and Steff Erasmus took his pipe

out of his mout and spat into the fire.

There are some things it is not pretty for a man to see.

They are too hard for him to forget. He should not see his son kill his

first man, also he should not see his son die. They were silent then,

knowing this truth. They had not spoken of it before because too much

talk softens a man's stomach, but they knew death and understood what

Steff had said. One by one their heads turned until they were all

staring across the square at the gathering of youngsters. beyond the

fires. Dennis Petersen said something but they could not catch the

words and his companions, laughed.