Empress Bianca (15 page)

The champagne arrived. The waiter poured glasses for both ladies before placing the bottle in a silver ice bucket on the table and then withdrawing.

Amanda knocked back her glass so quickly that Bianca had to gulp some of hers in a gracious effort to keep a vague pace with her guest’s
consumption.

‘Here, let me replenish you,’ Bianca said, grateful that Amanda would at least afterwards have the excuse - if only to herself - of alcohol.

‘Thank you. I do hope you don’t mind me taking up your time like this.’

‘Amanda, it’s a pleasure. It’s always good to see you. You’re not taking up my time at all.’

Just then the telephone rang. Bianca turned to answer it. Amanda could hear a male voice on the other end. She noticed her hostess listening intently. Then Bianca said, ‘I cannot believe how you tracked me down. This is my day for coincidences. You’ll never believe who I ran into on the street and who’s sitting here with me having a glass of champagne. Amanda Piedraplata! And you saw me leaving the hotel from a taxicab earlier today, and now you’re calling to tell me you too are in town. This is providential. You must come over and join us for a glass of champagne. Yes. Right now. I’ll leave word at the front desk. They’ll show you up.’

Amanda started looking perplexed, albeit pleasantly so. ‘Philippe Mahfud,’ Bianca said as soon as she hung up, her cover story already in place. ‘Can you believe it? He saw me leaving the hotel as he went by in a taxi and rang up to see if I was staying here. Isn’t the world the smallest place?’

Of course, Philippe was downstairs in his room, so he actually had to kill some time in order to make his arrival seem convincing to Amanda.

However, he was soon sitting with the two women, sipping a glass of champagne, listening to Amanda recount her delight in adopting such a beautiful little girl, unaware that his life was about to take the most unexpected of turns.

‘I hope Ferdie isn’t going to be cross with me for adopting the baby without his knowledge,’ Amanda remarked. ‘You know how difficult he can be, Philippe.’

With that, she turned, looked at Bianca and said: ‘My husband has periods every six months or so when he’s almost impossible. There’s nothing one can do but accept it. Unfortunately, he’s coming out of one at the moment…it’s already lasted about four weeks, hasn’t it, Philippe?

That’s partly why I came here in the first place. I’ve learned to keep away at a certain point. It’s best for our marriage, otherwise the good bits will become sullied by something which is beyond everyone’s control.’

Some innate sense of wisdom told Bianca not to utter a word. She therefore nodded sympathetically, fixing her gaze on Amanda, who was revealing an intense side of herself that she had never suspected existed beneath that cool and rather prim exterior.

Returning to Philippe, Amanda continued: ‘This whole business of the baby has been so unexpected. I telephoned Raoul Goldman, just to keep in touch really…he’s the lawyer who found our son… and Begonia and Raymond’s children,’ Amanda said as an aside to Bianca before turning her attention back to her husband’s business partner, ‘and he said he had this day-old baby girl. The couple earmarked for her didn’t want her when they discovered her father is half-Jewish…can you believe it? He knew I wanted a daughter eventually and asked me if I was interested. And this, Bianca, is where things get a bit tricky. I telephoned my husband…I was hoping he’s have turned the corner and been open to reason…but we didn’t even touch upon the purpose of the call, because it was so obvious that he has not yet returned to his normal self. You know what I mean about Ferdie when he’s in that frame of mind, don’t you, Philippe?’

‘You did the right thing in not broaching the subject until he’s in better shape,’ he said reassuringly. ‘It really isn’t possible to get through to him when he’s in this condition.’

‘I thought I’d go and see the baby. Well, it was love at first sight. She was mine from the moment I saw her. No doubt about it. She was already my daughter. I loved her as much as if I’d just given birth to her myself. The bonding was instantaneous. I could not imagine, having seen her, how I could live my life without her. Raoul was with me, and I agreed there and then to adopt her. He’s processing the papers, and I’ll take her back to Mexico next week. I only hope Ferdie doesn’t throw a fit. He’s the most easygoing man normally, Bianca, but he does get bees in his bonnet, and once he does, there’s no changing his mind. He has a thing about control and respect. I know he’s not going to be pleased that I’ve gone ahead and got the baby without his knowledge or consent. I only hope he’ll understand how the situation developed and not hold it against the baby. He’s such a good father to Manolito. He absolutely worships him. And to think I was worried before we adopted him that his feelings would be affected by the way we came to have the baby.’

‘He also loves you totally,’ Philippe said. ‘Even if his nose is out of joint for a while, I’m sure any damage done will be superficial, not
fundamental. You might have a rough two weeks, but I predict things will blow over.’

‘That’s what I’m banking on,’ said Amanda.

‘Y
ou what?’ Ferdie exploded, moving menacingly towards Amanda. ‘You what? What did you say you did?’

Amanda trembled. She had never felt such overwhelming fear in all her life. ‘Ferdie, if you’d just look at her, I know you’ll love her.’

‘Look at her? Are you crazy, woman? Why would I look at her? She’s not my child. She’s never going to be my child. Why would I want to look at her?’

‘She’s as much our child as Manolito…’

‘Oh no, she’s not. Manolito is my son, our son. She’s not my daughter. She’s your daughter. You want her: you keep her. But let me make one thing clear…I am not having a daughter foisted upon me.’

‘Ferdie, please…be reasonable…’

‘Be reasonable? That’s rich coming from you. You go shopping in New York and come back with a baby your husband knows nothing about, and you tell me to be reasonable. Your problem, Amanda, is that you’ve got too big for your boots. I’ve made you too secure. You’ve grown so overconfident that you think you can go behind my back and adopt a baby just because you want it. What about me? What about what I want? You didn’t even consult me.’

‘Ferdie, if only we could take things more calmly…’

‘Calmly? How many men would take having a child foisted upon them calmly? You tell me that, Amanda.’

‘I had to make up my mind there and then. Raoul couldn’t wait for me to come back home and speak to you about it…’

‘And you couldn’t phone me, I suppose…’

‘I did, Ferdie, but you were in such a vicious mood…’

‘Vicious mood? That’s what you think of me when you’re simpering and whimpering and beating around the bush…? Woman, I knew you were trying to work your way around me…I’m not your husband for nothing…I can tell when you’re dancing around trying to get your own way, instead of giving me a clean clear choice…’

‘Please, Ferdie. Please. Let’s not argue. I love you and would never do anything I thought would really upset you…’

‘I notice your use of the word “really”. So it’s fine for you to upset me slightly? To take advantage of me slightly? To use me slightly? What we’re talking about is the degree of liberty you’ve given yourself. That’s what we’re talking about here.’

‘You’re twisting what I said. I didn’t mean it like that…’

‘You meant it like that, all right, Amanda. What you didn’t mean was for me to find you out. You’ve overstepped the mark. You’d taken advantage of me. You’ve disrespected my rights as a husband and as a human being. This isn’t something that we can paper over. There’s a larger issue at stake here. Superficially, it’s about the baby, but beneath that, it’s about whether I’m to suck salt and pander to a woman who’s now so puffed up with her own importance that she thinks she can impose her desires and her will upon me.’

‘I can’t believe you really mean any of what you’re saying. You have to know that I’m not like that.’

‘All I know is that you’ve begun to believe your own publicity. You remind me of some B-grade movie actress from Hollywood who thinks she’s so popular that she can rub the studio chief’s nose in the mire.’

‘Ferdie, please… Please…I’m begging you… Please try to understand that I didn’t intend to disrespect your wishes or desires. Why would I? I love you. We have a happy marriage. We have a wonderful family life… I honestly thought I was adding to our happiness. I concede that I haven’t handled things well…’

‘You must have realized that your actions would cause a problem…’

‘Well, I was nervous about how you’d take the news…’

‘Now you know. I’m outraged that you could have taken my life and my destiny into your hands without so much as a word to me.’

‘What can I do to make things better?’

‘Send the baby back.’

Amanda felt her blood run cold. Instantaneously, she started to shiver.

‘You don’t mean that,’ she said.

‘I do.’

‘You can’t mean that.’

‘I can, and I do.’

Amanda started to sob. ‘No, Ferdie, no, you can’t…That’s the cruellest thing you could do… Please…please… Say you don’t mean it…’

‘I mean it, Amanda,’ Ferdie said coldly. ‘If you value our marriage, you’ll send that baby back.’

For three days Amanda looked for a sign that Ferdie was softening. She tried affection to no avail. Sex to no avail. Showing the baby to Raymond and Begonia, who came for dinner at the end of the third day she was back in Mexico City, to no avail. Ferdie simply walked out of the drawing-room as soon as she appeared with little Anna Clara. He didn’t make a point of departing, so the Mahfuds did not realize that anything was amiss, but he nevertheless did not return until the baby had been taken back to the nursery.

By this time Ferdie was no longer occupying the marital bed. He had moved out without warning or discussion and taken up occupancy of one of the guest bedrooms the night of the baby’s arrival. Amanda had no choice but to confront the fact that Ferdie’s obstinacy and pride might well prevent him from ever relenting. As she turned things over in her mind, she believed that the only hopeful sign was that he had not mentioned anything about separation or divorce. It was a straw to clutch at, but only a straw, for he had withdrawn emotionally and sexually, and Amanda saw the evidence of it everywhere.

Although she was hopeful that Ferdie would return to her bed once he had calmed down, as she looked back on the last few days, she found his reactions dispiriting. ‘I’m not going to let my pride get in the way,’ she told herself on the second night of their separation and had gone into the bedroom where he was sleeping and tried to snuggle up to him, hoping that one thing would lead to another and that they would effect a complete reconciliation through the reestablishment of conjugal relations.

Ferdie, however, had pulled himself away from her in such a manner that she was made to feel unclean.

Amanda knew Ferdie better than anyone else, so she gave him time to
calm down and start to miss her during the next seventy-two hours. On the evening of the fourth day after her return she decided she must try again, but when she attempted to open the door to the bedroom Ferdie was using she found it was locked. This alarmed her, for he had raised the drawbridge and had made himself inaccessible in a way he had never done before. These were oppressive days for Amanda, but they were not without their consolations. Anna Clara was a truly adorable baby: beautiful, goodnatured and everything a mother could ask for. Manolito was also captivated by her, which was a relief, for coping with a jealous toddler would have been too much.

Amanda received her first glimmer of hope when Manolito dragged Ferdie into the nursery and showed him Anna Clara. Amanda stood by silently, her heart in her mouth, as Manolito encouraged his father to touch the baby. Anna Clara, who only cried if she was hungry or dirty, kicked her little legs sweetly and grabbed onto Ferdie’s finger. Manolito, touched, kissed the baby, then his father, babbling away happily, utilizing the few sounds he could make as if they were a language everyone, especially his father and mother, could understand.

‘Surely Ferdie will relent now,’ Amanda thought as she witnessed this scene.

That night, Amanda’s hopes soared when Ferdie knocked on the marital bedroom door just as she was about to turn off the light. ‘Yes?’ she said, knowing only too well who it was, while her heart skipped a beat.

The doorknob turned, and Ferdie entered. He was in his pyjamas and dressing gown.

‘Come in, my love,’ she said, sitting up in bed and patting it, hope suffusing her.

‘I want a divorce,’ said the man whom she thought had finally returned to the marital bed.

In shock, Amanda stuffed her fist in her mouth and started to sob uncontrollably. When she was finally able to speak, she babbled rather than talked. ‘Oh, my God… No…Ferdie…no…’

Ferdie remained standing. He looked at her silently, impassively, as if she were a stranger about whom he felt nothing. Unable to believe that a man who had loved her so completely only a few weeks before could now be indifferent to her, Amanda jumped out of the bed and threw her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder and smelling the sweet
scent of his body. This act of intimacy brought on a fresh wave of anguish for her, without altering his inflexible stance one jot, and she could feel him stiffen. She wondered if she would survive the pain of it. Amanda was in such agony that she half expected her heart to give out, but to her surprise it continued beating as she clutched the husband she loved utterly.

After the longest moment of Amanda’s life Ferdie reached behind him, took her hands in his and removed them from around him. He impassively handed them back to her, as if he were a butler presenting a houseguest with a drink on a tray.

‘It’s no use,’ Ferdie said. ‘You’ve destroyed what we had. Love is like a delicate vase. Once it’s broken…’

Immediately comprehending the enormity of what he was saying, Amanda fell to the ground and clutched her husband’s ankles, wave after wave of grief engulfing her.

In what she would later view as the worst response Ferdie could possibly have had - because he removed her ability to be angry with him - he gently reached down, picked her up, placed her on the bed, kissed her cheek and said: ‘I’m sorry, Amanda. I wish it could be otherwise, but it can’t. It gives me no pleasure to cause you pain. You’ve been a good wife, and we’ve had a marvellous marriage. But it’s over.’ He paused, and she started to sob once more.

‘I’ll take care of you,’ Ferdie continued in the caring tone of voice she knew only too well. ‘So don’t worry about the practical side of things. Get yourself a good lawyer from England to negotiate with mine. Take my advice and don’t use a Mexican. He’ll only cheat you. Get your uncle to recommend someone suitable. I’ll settle a million US dollars on you, outright. No strings attached. With that, you’ll be able to buy a brownstone in New York or a house in London and still have enough left over to give you a good income, if it’s properly invested. I’ll even help you with your investments, if you want. Now try to get some sleep, and we can talk some more in the morning.’

For the rest of her life, Amanda would be amazed that she actually got through the rest of that night without expiring from a broken heart. She could hardly believe that her marriage was ending because of her urge to love the baby daughter she now had. Had she committed adultery or made Ferdie’s life unhappy or even been a flagrant bitch, she could have
more easily accepted why this was happening. But for it to end because of love - especially the love of a child - was too acute an irony.

The following morning, it was a dispirited and broken Amanda who dragged herself out of bed. However, she did not deviate from her routine, for she understood the importance of keeping the fabric of normality intact as the stitches of her life unravelled. She therefore splashed cold water on her face, brushed her teeth, fixed her hair. Then she put on a silk dressing gown and went straight to the nursery, as she would normally have done, where she looked in on the sleeping Anna Clara and Manolito, who was already awake and playing with his nurse.

Amanda played with her son for a few minutes before returning to the cot to look at the cause of all her trouble. Anna Clara was still sleeping peacefully, a tiny, angelic, defenceless bundle of goodness, completely unaware of the turmoil her presence had caused. Amanda felt her heart tug and knew that she would not change anything she had done, even though the price had been higher than she could ever have imagined.

Fortified by this knowledge, which lightened the load of anguish slightly - but only slightly - she headed downstairs to join Ferdie for breakfast on the terrace underneath the lignum vitae tree. She had no hope that he would have changed his mind during the night, for something in his behaviour told her that the end had come. But still, it would be comforting to adhere to old habits. Once she joined him, Ferdie was kind and gentle, but Amanda could tell her previous assessment of the hopelessness of her situation was accurate. He was closed to persuasion.

‘How do you want us to do things?’ she asked, meaning, as he knew only too well, who was going to live where.

‘I’ll continue living here. I’ll keep the country place, naturally. If you want to live in Mexico, you can buy yourself something here. A million US dollars is a lot of money, Amanda. It will go a long way here, though I question whether you’ve put down sufficiently deep roots to justify remaining here. I suspect, ultimately, you’ll be happier in New York or London.’

‘If I have to be on my own, I suppose the most sensible thing for me to do is return to London. New York is fine to visit, but I can’t imagine living there.’

‘A wise choice,’ Ferdie said, reaching across the table and cupping his wife’s hand. At that moment, Amanda felt as if she were caught up in a
surreal comedy of errors that was anything but funny. She could hardly believe that she was sitting where she was, having this conversation with this man about this subject: and that he was cupping her hand affectionately and protectively, with all the affection a loving father or brother would have for his daughter or sister.

‘Of course,’ she said, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks despite her desire to present a tearless façade, ‘you can see Manolito whenever you want. I’ll tell my lawyer to give you all the access you want. I can see that it will be difficult for you, with me living in London and you in Mexico, but with a bit of goodwill on both sides, I’m sure we’ll come to an arrangement that will make the best of a bad situation.’

Ferdie removed his hand. He looked levelly at Amanda.

‘Manolito stays here with me.’

‘What do you mean?’ she said, her voice icy with panic. ‘I can’t leave Manolito here with you.’

‘You’ll have to. It’s non-negotiable.’

Amanda stiffened. ‘Then I’m not leaving Mexico,’ she said firmly.

‘Even if you stay in this country,’ Ferdie responded with all the calm of a practised negotiator, ‘Manolito lives with me. Permanently. You can visit him, but he cannot live with you.’

Amanda felt her blood run cold again. Could this be the same man who had made love to her countless times over the years? Who had looked across many a room to see that she was all right and for her to reassure him that she still loved him, still noticed him, still paid attention to him? Was this the humanitarian who had built assisted housing for his staff as well as hospitals and schools?