They all looked at me in shocked silence. In fact, I looked at myself in the mirror in shocked silence; had I actually said that out loud?
Chapter 43 – A 360 Degree Turnaround.
Twelve weeks, it’s hard to believe I was only twelve weeks pregnant. Discovering I was pregnant in France seemed like another life time ago. In twelve weeks, I’d gone from being deliriously happy and pregnant, to meeting my grandfather, to being pregnant with someone else’s child and now fighting to save my marriage. Brandon was increasingly distant and withdrawn. He constantly looked tired and pale and whenever I tried to talk to him, he was either on the phone, huddled over the laptop or too busy. It didn’t help that he had found some texts and missed calls on my phone from Nate. He’d phoned me, concerned as to what had happened to put me in such a state, even called by once and spent the afternoon chatting to Gerry while I was out shopping with Chloe. He’d left before I had returned, and thankfully Brandon had been away, I’m not quite sure what he would have done if he had come home and found him here.
After that, I decided it would be safer to call him and explain it all over the phone. We’d chatted long into the night, again. With Brandon away, every now and then he would email or phone to see how I was doing. It was nice to have someone who didn’t have an opinion on the matter; who just listened.
It was Nate I called the evening before Francine and I were to meet up for the first time outside the Clinic. We were having lunch; just a little ‘get to know each other’ lunch. I had no idea what we were going to talk about.
‘Faye you’ll be fine, you’re women, 50 million topics of conversation you can talk about, it doesn’t just have to be about the baby. If it’s a ‘get to know each other’ lunch it can be about anything. Remember our first conversation?’
I did... ‘Ducks, 45 minutes on ducks... never knew they had 3 eyelids before that.’
‘You see, it doesn’t matter what you talk about. Ducks aren’t the most romantic or even interesting of things and look what happened us?’
‘You mean the cheating and the broken engagement.’
‘No, before that, five years... five, well... we made it.’
Not quite I thought, but I didn’t say that.
Sitting at the table with Francine, pleasantries over with, my mind went blank. This is exactly what I was afraid would happen!
‘Francine, do you know that ducks have 3 eyelids?’
We both burst out laughing together.
‘I’m glad you spoke first Faye, yours was far more interesting, I was going to start with the weather! Ducks!!’
More giggles. After that there were no more silences or awkward moments. Like Nate said, we have 50 million topics of conversation to cover.
Francine lived in another world to me. She air kissed from a distance and sent meals back if there was the slightest thing wrong with them. But then, for the briefest of moments she looked like a lost little girl and it was this vulnerability that warmed me to her. Initially, all our meetings were very formal, almost business like. But slowly, I began to look forward to her calls and our lunch dates as we had begun to call them.
While Francine had stopped working in the hotel shortly before she and Dermot married, she had continued to remain involved in the running of several of her own smaller project hotels until the IVF began. Even though, she was technically a lady of leisure now, she kept a very busy schedule of meetings and lunches and launches of this, that and the other. I wondered if she was packing all this in while she still could or if she hadn’t realised how drastically her life would change once the baby was born.
Within a few weeks, it became apparent that Francine had no friends. What I mean is, she had business contacts and acquaintances and people she dined with but for the most part, they were to further or cement business deals. She also had no family. Well, no immediate family. Dermot’s mother was the only close living relative they had between them and so in some small way, it was comforting that shortly they would have a family. I also quickly realised that there were two sides to Francine. There was Francine Dwight, hotelier and wife to Dermot Dwight and there was Franny Murphy, the inner city girl from Ringsend. Franny appeared one Tuesday afternoon when Francine had too much Chablis with her Thai infused salmon. Having met the two, I thought Franny Murphy would make the better mother.
At my 15 week check-up, we were both caught off guard. The sonographer was new to us and clearly not familiar with ‘our case.’ When he welcomed us into the room, he said how nice it was of my sister to come along with me. We looked at each other. It was then I realised the uncanny resemblance between us. While Francine was almost 15 years my senior, a life time of expensive spa treatments and luxurious creams had taken years off her complexion and she would easily pass for someone in her early thirties. We both shared the same wavy, auburn hair cut to just below the shoulder and while my eyes were a deep hazel and hers a vibrant green, it was our heart shaped face and deep dimple in our chin that made the resemblance so striking. We were so blown away by it.
Touching up our make up in the loos after the appointment;
‘Ah damn!’
‘What’s the matter?’ I asked
‘I was supposed to find out what the sex of the baby was.’
‘You were?’ I was shocked; I had just assumed they would leave it a surprise until the birth.
‘Yes, the nursery designer asked if we would, so that he could personalise the room. I’m not into greens or yellows for nurseries.’
A pang hit, it’s another thing I wouldn’t get to do for the baby. Plan or design the nursery. I thought then about the stack of ideas and samples that Raymond was saving for me in the office, I would really have to tell them all soon.
‘Oh of course...’ It was all I could manage.
I arrived home a short time later and was greeted by the most amazing aroma of smells. I walked into the kitchen and Brandon was there cooking.
‘Oh your home! You’re early, sorry I meant to be ready by the time you got home.’
He came around and kissed me. I looked at him in total shock, that he was here at all and that he was acting civilly towards me.
‘Faye I want to make it up to you, for being a complete and utter bastard these past few weeks, well months. I don’t know what came over me. I suppose everything! It’s being a lot to take in all at once. Forgive me? Please?’
He looked genuine. He also looked relieved, almost like he had been ill, but now he was better.
‘Of course I forgive you.’ What else could I say at this point? I still wasn’t sure where my head was at and I really don’t fancy living on egg shells for the remainder of my pregnancy.
‘I hope you don’t mind but I asked Gerry if he wouldn’t mind staying with your mum and dad for a little while, so that we could have some time together; I think we need it. He was delighted as were your parents; they had all been a bit worried about us, which made me realise even more, how insensitive I have been.’
I looked at him, it was like a complete 360degree turn he had done.
‘What’s brought all this on?’
‘Well I’ve been doing a lot of thinking; it’s all I’ve been doing. I’ve realised how selfish I’ve been, putting what I want first and not realising how all this is affecting you and Francine and Dermott.’
I smiled, it was the first time that he had acknowledged their existence.
‘How are you, how is the baby? I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you. That’s going to change now. I’m going to be the most loving and devoted husband you’ve ever dreamed off. Sit, sit down here and put your feet up. Dinner is nearly ready. And then we can talk, if you want or do whatever you want.’
I settled myself on the couch and was a little perplexed. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice to see some of the ‘old’ Brandon again, but well this was a real turn up for the books... I know I should be grateful, but all I could think off was: what has caused his sudden change of mind?
Cha
pter 44 – Flesh and Blood
‘Francine I’ve decided that if I ever lose interest in Interior Design, I am going to open up a baby boutique. Aren’t these booties the cutest thing you have even seen?’
We were out shopping for the baby. It’s something we seemed to do weekly. Thankfully Francine and Dermott had very deep pockets because I reckon we had spent a fortune on baby clothes alone so far!
‘Oh they are, quick stick them in here.’ She said holding up her full to the brim wicker basket and signalling to the girl behind the counter that, yes, she had filled yet another for her to ring up. ‘Faye, I have something I want to ask you but I’m not sure how you’ll take it.’
I turned to face her. ‘What is it?’
‘ Perhaps I shouldn’t ask, but would you help me pick baby names? Dermot has left it to me. He would like Diarmuid as a second name, after his father, if it’s a boy but other than that, I have free reign.’
I was so greatly touched that she would involve me in something so hugely personal that I hugged her.
‘Are you sure?’
She nodded her eyes full of anticipation. ‘I’ll understand if it’s too difficult for you. Well…’
‘Oh Francine I would just love to!’
Later that evening lying on the couch, I rubbed my tummy. Brandon had gone out to fetch a take away and I opened the baby name book that I had sneakily bought while out with Francine. I thumbed through the pages and casually glanced down at the names. Somewhere in here could be the name for my little darling.
At some point, I must have fallen asleep. I woke to find Brandon standing over me, the take away abandoned on the coffee table and his nose stuck in the book.
‘Oh Faye, sorry did I wake you?’
‘No, no.’ I looked up guiltily I hadn’t told Brandon yet that Francine had asked for my input in naming the babies.
He sat down beside me. ‘Faye, perhaps it’s not a good idea to torture yourself. Picking out names might be too hard when Francine and Dermot chose their own.’
‘She asked for my help.’
‘She did?’ Brandon looked shocked but excited.
‘Yes, she said that Dermot wanted to have Diarmuid as a second name, after himself and his father, if it was a boy but that other than that, Francine could call it what she liked. She asked if I would help her choose.’
‘Wow… what are you thinking?’
‘Well I didn’t get far, I fell asleep!’
‘Nothing new there then,’ he said tussling my hair.
‘Okay, I’ll dish up the food. Should we start with boys or girls first?’
'Are you serious, do you want to help?’
‘Of course I do, you sound surprised?’
‘Well it’s just you haven’t really been interested in all this before now.’
‘I apologised for that remember, I am sorry I acted the way I did. I would really like to help you. If you’ll have me?’
‘Of course, and don’t forget the extra sauce when you come over and plenty of napkins!’
Brandon dished up the food and we spent the evening delving in and out of the book and asking my bump which names it preferred.
We came up with a shortlist;
Boys Names
Girls Names
Cian
Jennifer
Conor
Amber
Noah
Emma
Emily
Maya
For the briefest of evenings, it was as though we were naming our own babies and we went to bed blissfully happy.
I was dying to discuss baby names with Francine but didn’t want to bring it up again too soon. A couple of days later, she asked if Brandon and I would like to come to their home for dinner. We’d never been before and she thought we might like to see where the baby would be growing up and she was thinking if I was ready, that we might like to all discuss some baby names. Was I ever!
Brandon and I drove out to their Sutton home four days later. Driving down their tree lined avenue, we marvelled at their impressive double front red bricked, Edwardian Style house that dominated their sizeable acreage. A large black door with perfectly polished brass nobs and knockers opened as Brandon helped me out of the car. Francine rushed forward and engulfed us in a hug.
‘Do you mind if I take a photo, of the first time the baby visits us?’
I was touched. I knew what Francine was doing. She had seen my meagre family wall at home and I had told her about my mothers. She was starting her own. Brandon took the camera as Francine and I stood by the door. I had hesitated as to whether or not to bring her a copy of the photo, I had from France of the day we had told our parents I was pregnant. I was glad now that I had. It was the baby’s first photo, so to speak, after all.
Their house was straight out of a magazine, the exact type of project I would have loved at work. I knew instantly who their designer was; Enrico Fernaldi. An Italian Designer, perhaps one of the best. I had studied him in college and often used him as inspiration for my own work. Francine followed my eye as I drank in each colour, texture and detail. The house was a master piece, the sort of place I dreamt of living in, one day.
'Do you like it?’ Francine broke through my train of thought.
‘It’s stunning, his work is amazing.’
‘I thought you might like it. Ever since I saw all his books on your shelves, I’ve been dying to have you over. I have a surprise for you. I was going to keep it until later but what the heck! I’ve asked him to do the nursery; please will you work with him? Design is not my strong point. I have no sense at all. It will be totally in your control.’
‘Are you serious? Work with Enrico Fernaldi?’ I thought I might faint at that point.
‘Oh please, say yes Faye. It would just give me so much pleasure!’
‘Your pleasure!’ and with that I burst into tears. By now, we were all used to it. I cried at everything.
Francine laughed, ‘I’ll take that as a yes then! Come, come, into the lounge.’
The most amazing dinner followed. Francine and Dermot had a number of staff who looked after them and their home. It was an aspect of their life I had imagined but not witnessed until now. Dermot was still his formal self, not yet used to our company but Francine and I chatted like old friends. I realised then that we were friends. The pretence of being nice to each other for the sake of the baby was long gone. During desert, Francine brought out a list of names she had compiled. It was pages long.
‘My trouble is, I like them all!’ she gushed
She read out name after name, some I thought were just awful. No child of mine will be called Veronica or Nigel I thought.
‘Oh, what was that last one Francine.’ I broke in.
‘Beth, short for Elizabeth. It’s one of my favourites.’
‘Beth is lovely.’ I could picture a Beth in my mind’s eye.
‘Oh good, I am glad you like it!’ Francine beamed.
‘What if it’s a boy?’ It was Dermot who broke in now.
Brandon spoke before the rest of us. ‘I always thought Cian was a nice name.’
‘Cian Diarmuid I like it! What do you think ladies?’
‘Lovely.’ We both said together.
‘I think we have it! What about Cian Diarmuid and Elizabeth Francine, Beth for short?’ Dermot wrote them down as if to seal them in.
‘Perfect!’ Francine seemed ecstatic!
Dermot took her hand and kissed it. I realised then it was the first intimate moment I had ever seen them share.
‘Brandon, you’ll have a brandy with me? I know these too ladies are just dying to escape to the nursery to discuss ideas!’ He threw his eyes to heaven as he said it.
Francine and I looked at each other and I followed her up stairs. ‘The Nursery’ was the size of my upstairs; an impressively large room, with double aspect and a vaulted ceiling. It had its own full size bathroom and ‘nannies quarters’ attached, I noted as well.
‘I’ve just had it
emptied and painted white; it’s how Enrico likes to start.’
‘So that nothing interferes with his creative process.’ I finished. ‘I still can’t believe I am going to meet him.’
‘Faye, it’s the least I can do. You’ve no idea what you are doing for me. You’re giving me a family. You see, I’ve never really had one.’ Francine paused for a moment and I’m almost sure, I saw tears in her eyes, but they were gone as quick as they came so I couldn’t be certain. ‘My parent’s, well they were young when I was born. They abandoned me when I was 3. I don’t know where they went, or who they are. I’ve never really had a sense of belonging. When I met Dermot, I was flattered by his attention. Never thought it would lead anywhere. He was already engaged, months from the wedding. We flirted but I wouldn’t let it go any further. I knew he wanted more, he even promised me a promotion if I went away with him. I told him not while he was engaged, that I wasn’t that kind of woman; that if he really wanted me he had to prove it and be a man. I never in my wildest dreams, well I never thought he would leave her; caused rather a scandal, as you can imagine. People said he would never marry me, that men like Dermot Dwight didn’t marry orphaned girls from the inner city.
After six years, I was beginning to think they were right. When Dermot proposed, I felt like I was half way there; half way to my paradise, all I needed was a child. Without you, I would never have that. Thank you.’
She hugged me tight.
‘Do you think we should go pink or blue or challenge Enrico to do something non-traditional?’ She’d changed the subject.
The moment was over; she didn’t want to discuss it further. I shook the emotion I felt off and smiled up at her.
‘A challenge definitely. What’s the point of asking him to create something traditional?!’
The Meaning of Purple Tulips Page 23