The Meaning of Purple Tulips

by Bláithín O' Reilly Murphy

  ‘Why?’

  ‘She thought about it, just a while too long and then said of course she did. We both realised then that she didn’t. Sometime that night she left me. All I got was a brief note saying: ‘I’m sorry I can’t go on like this.’ It broke my heart. A year later, she sent divorce papers.’

  ‘Oh god Gerry, I’m so sorry. Whatever happened to her?’

  ‘I heard she remarried, a Doctor. After five years of marriage to him, she still had no children. Sometime later she threw herself in front of a train, on our wedding anniversary.’

  ‘Oh Gerry, I can’t believe that.’

  ‘Either could I. I was devastated when I heard. She was buried and all, by then. I went to visit her, well her grave; such a waste.’ He looked down. His eyes filled with tears. ‘The reason I bring it up, well Faye, please don’t consume yourself with this. I know your situation isn’t just like mine, but it equally has the potential to change people’s lives drastically; make sure it’s for the better.’

  ‘Thanks, thanks for telling me.’

  ‘You’re welcome pet, good night.’ He said kissing me on the forehead as he headed for his room.

  Lying in bed that night, all I could think of was Gerry’s story. How very sad that your childhood sweetheart should fall out of love with you and leave. I realised then that the same thing had happened to me. Nate had fallen out of love with me and then left. I shivered a little as I realised how close I had come to ending my own life after that. Something I couldn’t even contemplate ever doing again. It was scary how close history had come to repeating itself.

  I kept trying to reason with Brandon but he refused to come home, until I saw sense he said. I felt like I was dealing with a petulant child already. I knew I couldn’t have an abortion, but I still wasn’t sure that I could actually go through with the pregnancy and give up the baby. I felt trapped. At my 10 week check-up, I asked about the possibility of meeting Couple X before I gave a decision. Dr. Frasier brought me to Mr. Conlon’s office, a small brown room at the back of the clinic, to discuss it.

  ‘Faye, clearly these are unmitigated circumstances. It is not something I would suggest. But if they are in agreement, arrangements can be made.’

  ‘See what you can do, I would like to meet them as soon as possible.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise anything.’

  ‘You do that.’

  I left and waited to hear from him. ‘Unmitigated circumstances’ translation ‘holy mess’, a holy mess that was tearing me apart. In the two hours that it took for Mr. Conlon to call me back with their decision, I wondered if meeting them was a good or bad idea. I don’t know how I expected it to help. I suppose, if they were nice and loving couple, it would be easier to hand my baby over but what if they weren’t. What if they weren’t nice at all, what then?

  I watched the number flash on my mobile before answering it. What would I think of them if they didn’t want to meet me?

  ‘Faye, it’s Brian Conlon here from the Clinic. I spoke with Francine and Dermot Dwight, they would like to meet with you and Brandon. They’ve supplied me with a number of dates and times that suit them, I can email them to you and you can let me know what suits you and Brandon best?’

  All I could manage was ‘That would be good, thanks.’ Before I hung up.

  Francine and Dermot. Normal names. Not sure what I was expecting. But it was somehow comforting that they were nice normal names. They sounded respectable and honest. Perhaps this would be ok. The Dwights. The Dwights sounded like a nice family name. Nice enough for my baby. I tried to imagine what Francine and Dermot might look like, where they might live, what they might do. Did they have a big yard? Did they have a dog?

  I clicked open my laptop to see if Mr. Conlon had sent through the email. It stood out in my inbox, ‘Availability’ in bold letters dominating the subject line. They had supplied 9 different dates and times at which they could meet us at the Clinic or a venue of our choosing. It felt safer to meet them at the clinic. More contained. We still hadn’t told anyone other than our parents and Chloe which was getting more difficult. My pregnancy was the worst kept secret in work and while it wasn’t official, everyone knew about it and it was often an open topic of conversation over morning coffee or general office banter. At the start, it had been great but now, now that I wasn’t pregnant ‘for me’ any longer it was becoming impossible to keep up the charade.

  I rang Brandon and we agreed that meeting at the Clinic in one week’s time, on the day of my 11 week check-up would be the date. He didn’t understand in the slightest, why I would want to meet them at all but he agreed to attend; if only to place the couple whose names he seemed to remember. I was happy that if it was on the morning of a check-up; it gave me the option of inviting them to the ultra sound, if it was something I felt comfortable with. I know if I was in Francine’s shoes, it’s something I would really like and I was trying my hardest to realise and remember that this must be heart breaking for her too. The check-up also gave me a reason to cut the meeting short if it all went horribly wrong too.

  Having made the decision and the arrangements to meet them, I felt proactive; like I was finally doing something. I discussed this with Gerry.

  ‘That’s good Faye, but what about your marriage? What are you going to do about Brandon?’

  ‘I don’t know, I’ve tried to talking to him, but he refuses to listen to me. He only agreed to meet me at the Clinic next week so as not to ‘miss’ anything.’

  ‘So are you just going to leave it?’

  ‘To be honest, until a decision is out in the open I don’t think he’ll talk to me.’

  ‘And what about Nate? He’s called every day.’

  'I know, I don’t know to say to him, to anyone. I just need to make a decision on this and then I can talk to them all.’

  ‘When are you going to give your decision?’

  ‘I suppose once I’ve met them.’

  ‘What will happen if you don’t like them?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I closed my eyes; I was getting another head ache.

  The morning of ‘The Meeting’, I sat on the edge of the bed, consumed with nerves. I agonised over what to wear. I don’t know why or what I was trying to achieve but I suppose, I wanted them to know that I was a nice person too, a good mother to my, no… their baby while I carried it. Brandon and I drove in silence to the Clinic.

  Inside the Clinic, Mr. Conlon waited for us and led us down to a boardroom off the main corridor. He opened the door for us and inside sat a smartly dressed couple. They rose as we entered and Mr. Conlon introduced us.

  ‘Faye, Brandon, this is Dermot and Francine Dwight.’

  Dermot was closest to me and gripped my hand in a tight firm handshake. He had the air of an accomplished business man and as he stepped to one side to allow his wife forward, I placed him at about 45 years old. Francine was younger, late 30’s perhaps. Dressed in an expensive looking burgundy wool skirt and Jacket and coiffured brown hair, cut short at her shoulders.

  ‘Faye, it is so lovely to meet you.’ Francine was the first to speak and her wide genuine smile put me at ease.

  We took our seats opposite them and Mr. Conlon left as the receptionist delivered us some teas and coffees. We all looked at each other, polite smiles doing the rounds.

  ‘Thank you both for agreeing to meet with us.’ I said it more to break the silence than anything else. ‘I’m sure Mr. Conlon and Dr. Fraiser have told you both that we’re not yet reached a decision on what to do.’ I regretted adding that part as soon as it was out. I sounded too much like I was trying to rub something in their faces. ‘ None of this has been easy, and I am not sure that meeting will make it any easier on either of us, but we’re here now…’ I don’t know where my point was going; I was hoping someone else would talk.

  ‘Perhaps, we should tell you a little about ourselves?’ Francine looked at me hopefully, I felt better; they didn’t know what to say either. I
smiled encouragement at her.

  ‘Dermot and I are married 6 years now. We are both from Dublin and live in Sutton. Dermot and I are Hoteliers we own about 35 in total. We met when I came to work in one of Dermot’s hotels 13 years ago. We started IVF about 18 months ago; I am 38 now and we’ve just had our last attempt.’ Dermot patted Francine’s hand as she said it.

  It was a condensed synopsis of what I am sure was a lavish life style. As I took Dermot and Francine in, it was clear they had money. Although neither was dripping in gold, they both exuded an understated rich elegancy. At least my baby would be well provided for.

  ‘Dermot and I decided that having a child before I was 40 would be a good idea.’ Francine looked at me, drinking in my considerable youth.

  ‘Yes a son and heir, to inherit the empire!’ Dermot spoke for the first time trying to be jovial or at least make light of the terrible situation we were all in. His voice was tinged a little. I sensed they too were sad that it hadn’t turned out like they expected but I wasn’t sure if joking was the way to go. Silence descended again. Perhaps this had been a bad idea. It wasn’t easy to talk to strangers at the best of times, least of all when there is a big elephant in the room that no one would dare bring up.

  Francine cleared her throat, ‘Have you been ill much, with the pregnancy?’

  I felt better that she had asked after the baby, ‘Yes, mostly in the mornings. The tiredness is the worst though. I could sleep most of the day and still not be fully awake.’

  ‘Do you need anything?... Sorry I didn’t mean, I just well,…’ Her sentence hung in the air, unfinished.

  ‘Thank you. I have all I need.’ I smiled at her. I realised then, that I did have all I need. I had met them. I didn’t need or want any more information. I produced a small envelop and passed it across the table. It was copies of last week’s ultra sound.

  ‘I brought you some ultra sound pictures.’

  Francine slid them out of the envelope and passed them in turn to Dermot.

  ‘Thank you.’ She said.

  There was a knock at the door then. It was Dr. Frasier.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt, Faye, they are ready for you now.’

  I was grateful for the interruption, I had pre-arranged with him.

  I stood up.

  ‘It was nice to meet you both’ I turned quickly and left the room before anyone could reply.

  I walked quickly down the hall and straight into the ladies toilets. I pushed a stall door shut behind me and slid to the floor and cried. The bathroom door opened and I heard Brandon call out my name. I didn’t respond.

  ‘Darling, come out of there.’ He said tapping gently on the white lacquered door.

  I pulled myself up and opened the latch. His arms were out stretched and I cradled myself into them. We both stood there and cried.

  Chapter 42 –A second sign?

  Having met the Dwight’s, two things became very clear to Brandon and I;

  1. And this I knew before, because it had started out as ours, I could never abort the baby.

  2. It was very apparent that we couldn’t fight to keep it ourselves either. The Dwight’s had money that we could only dream off; they could afford to fight us in every Court in the land.

  My hands shook as I dialled Mr. Conlon’s number. Brandon wore a soulless expression as he watched me.

  ‘Mr. Conlon, its Faye Donohue. Brandon and I have reached a decision.’ He didn’t interrupt me and waited for our answer before talking. ‘I’ll continue with the pregnancy for the Dwight’s.’

  The line was silent for a moment, but I could hear his breathing.

  ‘Well Faye, thank you for letting me know… Emm… at this point I will let Mr & Mrs Dwight know. Is there anything… anything you need?’

  Anger brewed inside me, it’s all anyone could ask me, is there anything I needed? I needed for all this to be a dream, the most terrible nightmare imaginable. I needed for my baby to be mine. Not to have to love it and carry it and then hand it over to complete strangers and possibly never see it again. I needed for my baby to be mine. I fought back the rage.

  ‘No there is not.’ It was said through gritted teeth. ‘I must go.’ I hung up before he could reply.

  Mr. Conlon, the efficient Solicitor that he was, had already drawn up a pregnancy agreement that both we and the Dwight’s had agreed to before we made our decision. So that we all knew were we stood in each eventuality, he had said. In brief, I would carry the baby for as long as it was medically safe for both of us or to term. The Clinic would cover all medical costs and related expenses which would be separate to the compensation each couple would receive. Once the baby was born, Brandon and I would be allowed to meet it after which any future contact would have to be agreed to; by the Dwight’s and us.

  I lay in bed for much of that afternoon. I wasn’t sure if it was the situation or the pregnancy but I was just exhausted. I heard the phone ring a few times down stairs but I didn’t have the energy to answer it. Brandon woke me at 4.30pm and I ventured downstairs to help with some dinner.

  ‘Faye, Mr. Conlon called back while you were asleep. He spoke with the Dwight’s. They are very grateful. They wondered if we could meet again. They would like to get to know us more. Be part of the pregnancy.’

  I stared down at the mushroom I was cutting. I shouldn’t have been surprised by their request. It was only natural that they would want that. But still, I had imagined that these brief few months would be totally mine and Brandon’s with the baby. I hadn’t figured the Dwight’s in the picture until the delivery. How naive of me.

  Brandon put his arms around me. ‘If you don’t want to Faye, you don’t have to. To be honest I think it’s a bit cheeky. Are we not doing enough for them as is? Now they want to invade our life as well.’

  ‘I expect they just want to be involved.’

  ‘So fine, come along to the check-ups at the Clinic. It’s not like we’re all going to become friends out of this.’

  I looked at him and rubbed my tummy. Regardless of who raised them, it would always be our baby. Well mine at least. Brandon, while he had moved back in, was viewing the baby and the pregnancy with contempt and wasn’t interested in any of its development. So it didn’t surprise me that he should react to their request like this.

  ‘It might be nice to have their support.’ I looked at him sideways.

  ‘Faye, I’ll stand by you while you do this but I don’t want to know what’s going on. It’s not my child, I’m not interested if its feet or toes or whatever has formed. As far as I am concerned, you are a surrogate mother to these people and that’s the end of it.’

  His anger towards the situation and the baby was hard to take at times and because of it, we spent less and less time together and many nights apart too with Brandon working late or taking assignments away. Not only was I trapped in a potentially loveless marriage, I was also trapped in a functionless marriage. My happily ever after was not turning out like I thought at all.

  ~o~

  With Gerry out at a concert and with Nigel and Brandon away for the weekend on some assignment, I invited Chloe, Lucy and Carole over for dinner and a good auld chat. I had briefly updated them all on what was going on and as they sat around my dinner table, I realised how surreal the whole situation sounded to someone on the outside.

  ‘I’m sorry Faye, but Brandon’s being a pig. I know as your friend I should be supportive, but I don’t think you should’ve married him. You should have gone with Nate.’

  ‘Lucy you can’t say that! Besides it’s Brandon’s sign that came first!’

  Carole looked at Chloe, ‘What do you mean ‘Brandon’s sign came first?’

  I threw my hands in my lap, could my life get anymore comical. As Chloe ‘relived’ my request for a sign on what to do with my love life I dished up the desert.

  ‘Perhaps you should ask for another then Faye.’ Carole turned to me as I closed the fridge door. ‘I’m not saying you should or shouldn’t leave Brand
on or anything like that, but it does seem that his behaviour has been.... well... ‘

  ‘That he’s acted like a selfish pig!’ spouted Lucy.

  ‘Not sure I would quite put it like that... but well you know, if a sign worked once, maybe it could work again? The whole wedding story is rather romantic though... isn’t it?’ Carole’s eyes widened at the thoughts, ‘ Imagine, someone loving you so much that they would turn up at your wedding, face public humiliation, and propose to you just as you are about to walk down the aisle!’

  It sounded nice when Carole said it like that; wasn’t so nice to live through though. Despite it being a really amazing day, there were a lot of hushed whispers and questioning looks. I learnt when I got back from honeymoon there was even a crazy rumour going around that I was carrying Nate’s love child – if only that were true.

  ‘So Faye if and I say ‘if’ you were going to ask for another sign what would it be for?’ Chloe eyed me suspiciously.

  ‘Oh! I think it should be if she married the right person… oh god, did I actually say that out loud? Oh god Faye, I am so sorry; that was totally out of turn. Of course you should have married Brandon; you too are so in love. I’m so sorry.’ Carole looked mortified. ‘God I am sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, I just got carried away with the romance of your wedding story. Please forgive me?’

  I smiled at her, ‘Don’t worry about it Carole, if I’m honest, it’s a question I’ve asked myself before. And right now, if I’m really honest and I’ll never admit this if any of you ask me again, but I’m not sure that I married the right man or that I love Brandon right now.’