The Meaning of Purple Tulips

by Bláithín O' Reilly Murphy

  In the car on the way home, I wondered how important it was that your family was your own flesh and blood. I wasn’t my parents, but we were a family. Gerry had lost the love of his life in her pursuit for it and like me; Francine seemed to have pinned her happiness on the birth of her own child. Were we right?

  Chapter 45 – Half way point

  I was huge! Twenty weeks, half way there. I couldn’t possibly envisage myself getting any bigger, yet everyone assured me, I would. Nothing fitted; I looked like a whale in everything. The one time I would meet my idol and it would be with cankles and an extroverted belly button. Not that Enrico would be looking at me ‘in that way’ but he was a man of impeccable taste and style and no doubt, what I wore would go a long way to him forming his first and last impression of me.

  He, Francine and I were meeting over lunch to discuss some initial ideas before showing him the nursery space. I trembled with anticipation as I sat at the dining table in a small quaint bistro. While I waited for their arrival, I started giggling to myself as to whether I should bow on his arrival; he was ‘my’ king, or perhaps that should be ‘queen’ of design, after all.

  ‘Faye so sorry, we’re late, don’t get up pet, you might take the table with you.’ Francine arrived in a cloud of perfume and dressed as though going to the races, hat et al! ‘Faye, let me introduce to you Enrico Fernaldi.’

  A short man, of about 5 foot nothing stepped forward. Tight, cropped black hair and brilliant blue eyes shone at me. Tango’d didn’t cover it but somehow he carried it off. The soft caramel cashmere of his jumper felt like silk as he brushed against my arm, taking my hand and raising it to my lips.

  ‘Delighted to meet you.’ He spoke with a quintessential English accent.

  ‘Oh’ I said. ‘I thought you were Italian, in fact sure of it?’

  ‘I am my dear.’ No further explanation was offered.

  He sat down at the table and surveyed the menu. Francine smiled across the table at me. I sat mesmerised. He was much shorter than his biography had stated and where had the English accent come from? I had heard him speak on both telly and radio numerous times and he had spoken with an expressive Italian accent on each occasion.

  ‘Francine tells me you are an Interior Designer?’ He eyes my outfit suspiciously.

  'Yes, for almost 5 years now. I work at Perfect Designs.’

  ‘With Simon and Raymond?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  He appeared to be a man of few words. Lunch was intense. I didn’t know what to say and neither Francine nor Enrico, said much to me. We drove in silence to the house and when we arrived after Francine had shown him to the room, he asked to be left alone in his new space.

  Ensconced well outside of earshot, I was dying to question Francine.

  She beat me to it. ‘He is something else, isn’t he?’

  ‘He is very quiet.’

  ‘I know, I never know what to say, or wear around him, hence the hat... too much?’

  ‘Just a little maybe.’ I giggled

  She hadn’t known what to do with it during lunch, it was too big to take off and put on the table and the waiters kept walking into it when they passed.

  ‘He makes me nervous.’

  ‘He makes you nervous? Are you serious? But you hired him; surely it should be the other way around?’

  ‘Are you serious, ‘him’ – not that I knew who he was until we got married and one of Dermot’s friends said I just had to have him to redecorate the house. Apparently, there is no one else worth having. Every time he comes, I nearly die. He’s very opinionated!’

  I looked at Francine in shock that someone could have such an effect on her.

  ‘Remember girl, inner city girl playing in the world of rich and famous, this confidence you think I have... all an act! I can see the shock in your eyes.’

  I blushed; embarrassed that she knew exactly what I was thinking.

  ‘To be honest with you, for the most part, I feel like I am living in a museum. Don’t get me wrong, I love the house. It looks amazing. He is definitely worth it but if it wasn’t for appearance sake; I would probably have it totally different. I can’t even get dressed in the morning without a stylists say so. So my opinion hardly counts for much’

  ‘You have a stylist?’

  ‘Yes.’ Francine bows her head in embarrassment, ‘Not for the reasons you might think. Faye, I really don’t have a notion about clothes at all. C’mere I’ll show you something.’

  I follow her into her study and from the back of the bookcase she takes out a small photo album. Written on it in black capital letters, ‘THE CRINGE YEARS’. She hands it to me.

  ‘Me before the stylist.’

  I turn the page and clap my hand to my mouth so that the shocked laugh doesn’t escape. Before me is a picture of Francine at about 20, her hair a brassy red and piled on her head in a greasy tangled mass of wire and fuzz. Her makeup is pale as cream with vibrant red lips dominating her face. She is wearing a long pink dress with navy polka dots and white shoes and bag.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Heading out to the disco, that was my best dress. Terrible isn’t it.’

  I flicked through the rest of the album, they got worse. A luminous green polo neck featured a lot and was often teamed with a peach puff skirt, white ankle socks and black heels.

  ‘You see, the stylist was a necessity. But you’re wondering how I ever caught Dermot’s eye? Uniforms, hotel uniforms are a blessing. That and the hotel hair dresser took pity on me and dyed my hair the auburn it is now. God, I would be a mess if left to my own devices.’

  After that afternoon with Francine, I realised there was so much I didn’t know about her. I suppose, I shouldn’t have been surprised. I have only known her a couple of months. I just expected, as we were going through something as personal as having a baby together, that I should know everything about her already! Perhaps I never would.

  ‘How did the afternoon with Enrico go? Brandon asked as I arrived home.

  ‘Not bad. He is something else.’

  ‘Do you think you will like working with him?’

  ‘Definitely, I think he was a little worried when Francine told him I was an Interior Designer but we sat down and discussed it all and he was much more friendlier leaving.’

  I realised after my chat with Francine that there was nothing to ‘fear’ in Enrico, he was after all, just another person. I sat him down and told him that he was the Designer and I was ‘the client’; once the parameters of our relationship had been drawn, he visibly relaxed.

  ‘In fact he called me in the car to say he was emailing me over some initial thoughts he had, am just going to go up and check them now.’ I said as I mounted the stairs.

  ‘Sure, fancy a cuppa?’

  ‘Love one.’

  ‘I’ll bring it up.’

  I had to pee yet again and had only settled down into my office chair when Brandon came in with tea and a plate of biscuits.

  ‘Oh your emails are open here; you’ve a new one, from a Rachelle Roseburg; Subject: This month’s payment is late!!! ’

  Brandon pounced over me, shutting his email down. ‘Oh don’t worry about that. Work stuff, I bet they haven’t sent her on money for her photos or something. I’ll deal with it later.’

  ‘Are you okay, Brandon?’

  ‘Yea, why?’

  ‘You look you have seen a ghost.’

  ‘No, no am grand... might start dinner.’

  He left, I opened my own emails and forgot all about Brandon’s weird behaviour when I saw what was in my inbox; an email from Nate, Subject: Faye we need to talk; urgently.

  Chapter 46 –Denial

  I ignored Nate’s email, I had a sneaking suspicion what it was about and I just couldn’t face it right now. I threw myself into work and the baby’s nursery. Gerry had moved back in with us; I had missed him terribly. He had decided to stay 2 more weeks and then come back in time for the birth. It was really important
to me that he be here for that. Sitting out on the terrace with him, I looked across and thought that he was the only living member of my family that I knew. I thought about what Francine had said, how her life would be complete when she had a child of her own. I felt sad for the first time in a long while, really sad.

  ‘Faye, you look troubled pet what is it?’

  ‘Just thinking about families. Do you think family ties are strongest?’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘Do you think that families are closer than those who aren’t related?’

  ‘Aw, are you asking do I think are blood families closer than other families?’

  I thought for a moment; ‘Yes.’

  ‘Let me ask you this first Faye, do you think your family is any less close than any other?’

  I had to think about that a moment, at what he was getting at. Of course, it’s not something I ever focused on; I wasn’t a blood relation to my parents. We were family in bond, not in blood; and we were close, perhaps closer than most. For the first time; perhaps ever, I realised that blood family wasn’t the only ‘true’ family you could have. Somehow, I felt relieved at this realisation.

  Chapter 47 – The beginning of a new chapter.

  ‘Faye, will Brandon be in soon, Dermot and I have something we would like to ask you both?’

  ‘He should be here shortly.’ I said as I sat down in the Clinic waiting room. We were having another scan; I was 25 weeks pregnant today.

  ‘Great, Dermot is on his way too.’

  Brandon and Dermot arrived together laughing. It’s funny how we had all become so at ease with each other. Dermot cleared his throat (something I noticed he did each time he began to speak) as he sat down in front of us.

  ‘Faye, Brandon, Francine and I were wondering, well we were hoping if you two would be the baby’s God parents.’ They both looked at us expectantly. ‘I know we’ve never discussed what might happen once it is born and I suppose for a long time, it’s something we hadn’t thought about but over the past few months, we’ve gotten to know you rather well and well we would very much like for you both to part of the baby’s life.’

  I was touched at his sincerity. Brandon looked at me. It is something I had secretly hoped for, being part of the baby’s life, or at least being able to see it. Being asked to be God Parents, well that was just the icing on the cake!

  ‘We would love to!’ I beamed.

  ‘We would also like to appoint you as their legal guardians, should anything happen to us. Hopefully it will never become an issue, but my solicitor advised me to clear it with you both, just to be sure.’

  I was taken aback, it was a serious question, but of course there was no other answer than yes. The situation wasn’t perfect and the baby wasn’t biologically mine, but I knew as the weeks passed and the pregnancy progressed, that the little one would always be mine in some way. There is a bond that develops when you carry a baby, when they are part of you that name and science can’t break. I knew the day that Brandon and I handed it over to Francine and Dermot, would be the hardest in my life but at least now it wouldn’t be the end to the story.

  ‘Faye, why did you say we would be god parents to the baby?’

  We were in the car on the way home after the ultrasound.

  ‘Why wouldn’t I have said yes?’

  ‘Because it’s not our baby.’

  ‘I didn’t say it was.’

  ‘Faye I don’t want anything to do with them or the baby once it’s born.’

  ‘Are you serious? You expected us to go through 9 months of this then to have no contact with them at all? Are you serious?’

  ‘Why would we have anything to do with it once it’s born?’

  ‘Well apart from the fact that I have carried it, and Dermot and Francine have become our friends, wouldn’t you just be a little bit curious, to know how it’s doing, what type of person it turns into, who it becomes?’

  ‘No, not in the slightest, it’s not my child and I didn’t want it, why can’t you understand that?’

  ‘What do you mean you didn’t want it? Are you saying again that you don’t want children?’

  We pulled up in front of the house and I got out of the car and slammed the door before he could reply.

  ‘Faye, that’s not what I said at all.’

  ‘Who is that?’

  ‘Who is what?’

  ‘That woman, stood at our door.’

  Brandon followed my gaze. I looked back at him; he was as white as a sheet.

  ‘Who is she, Brandon?’

  ‘No one, stay here; I’ll take care of it.’

  He raced up to the front door. I waddled up as quickly as I could.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  I could hear him spit it at her from half way down the driveway.

  ‘You didn’t answer any of my calls or emails and I still haven’t received any money.’ She spoke in an American accent.

  ‘Brandon who is this?’

  ‘Hi I’m Rachelle Roseburg, you must be Faye. Pregnant, congratulations, that makes a lot of sense.’ She reached across Brandon and shook my hand.

  I knew that name from somewhere. ‘What do you mean, that makes a lot of sense?’

  ‘Don’t mind her Faye, she was just leaving.’ Brandon caught her elbow and went to pull her away from the house but she struggled free.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere until I get my money.’

  ‘Your money, have the paper still not paid you?’ I looked from one to the other.

  ‘So that’s what he has told you, is it?’

  ‘Told me, he hasn’t told me anything?’

  ‘Clearly!’

  ‘Rachelle, leave it. Leave and I’ll get you your money.’

  ‘I don’t understand why you’ve come here for payment from the paper, Brandon has nothing to do with accounts, and surely you should speak to them?’

  ‘Faye, go inside.’

  ‘No Brandon, I want to know what is going on?’

  ‘Perhaps we should all go inside, don’t you think Brandon, unless you want to tell your pregnant wife all the sordid details on the door step.’

  ‘Sordid details, what are you talking about?’

  ‘Rachelle leave!’

  ‘No wait, I want to hear what she has to say. Please come in.’ I opened the door and she led the way into the house.

  ‘Nice, I see why he fled back here.’

  I ignored her comment, but I reckoned it was a precursor to what was to come.

  ‘I think you better start with why you are here, Brandon sit, I expect I’ll have questions for you when she is finished.’

  ‘I’m here for the money I was promised.’

  ‘What money is that?’

  ‘Child support.’

  ‘Why would Brandon be giving you child support?’

  ‘It’s his child.’

  Brandon put his head in his hands.

  ‘His child?’ I felt the blood drain from my face. ‘How old is it?’

  ’10 months.’

  ‘When... when were you.’ I couldn’t even finish the sentence.

  ‘When I was in New York, working for CNN.’ Brandon’s voice was strong. ‘It was a mistake you have to believe me Faye?’

  ‘A repeated mistake!’

  ‘Rachelle, please! Did you have to come here? You would have got your money. Did you really have to do this?’

  ‘Brandon, she didn’t do anything, you seem to be the one doing it all.’ My voice was shrill.

  ‘How long have you known?

  ‘About six months.’

  ‘Six months...’

  ‘I tried to tell you, I really did.’

  ‘Clearly not hard enough.’ I cried.

  ‘How could you do this to me, not tell me. I thought you loved me, it’s why you left the internship and came back to me?!’

  Rachelle let out a sarcastic snarl.

  ‘Is that what he told you? Left the internship, oh honey, he
didn’t leave, he was fired. Turns out I wasn’t the only person there he was screwing. Screwed the bosses daughter too, didn’t he, don’t worry though, she isn’t pregnant. I don’t think he would still be alive if she was. Oh he had us both believing he was in love with us. Soon as Mr. Harris found out what he was doing with his 19 year old princess, he was outta there. I’m surprised he even got a job back here.’

  I felt sick to the pit of my stomach.

  ‘You didn’t come back for me then, you came back because you had to?’

  ‘Faye of course I came back to you, I love you darling.’

  ‘Came back to your money more like.’

  ‘What do you mean? You didn’t know anything about my inheritance until you came home?’

  ‘Some friend of yours Chleo? Called and left a message.’

  I looked at Brandon again, ‘Is that true? Did Chloe call you and tell you all about it?’

  He just nodded his head.

  ‘Oh my god.’

  ‘Faye, you have to believe that wasn’t the only reason I came back, I came back because I love you. I married you didn’t I? And we’re having a baby.’

  ‘This isn’t your baby though, remember?! Is that why you want nothing to do with it because you have one of your own tucked away already? Is that why you said you wanted to wait, that we were too young; because you already knew, even if I couldn’t give you a child, that you had one?!’ My voice got louder and louder.

  ‘Please Faye; it wasn’t like that at all. I was just under a lot of stress; couldn’t think straight, that was all. You have to believe me.’

  ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’

  ‘A boy.’

  ‘What’s his name?’

  Brandon lowered his head. Rachelle said nothing; clearly delighted watching him squirm.

  ‘Brandon what is your son’s name?’

  He raised his head slowly, ‘ Brandon Jr.’

  ‘Have you met him?’

  ‘God no, I would never do that to you, Faye.’

  I laughed at him.

  ‘Why are you laughing?’

  ‘It’s nice to know there are some things you wouldn’t do for me but I still think you are a selfish pig for not meeting your own son.’ I turned to Rachelle, ‘Is he here with you?’