‘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?
‘Ferdie, how can you do this?’ she asked gently but pointedly, her tears drying with the cold blast that had emanated from him.
‘If I don’t do it to you, you’ll do it to me,’ he said, again with the calm of the experienced negotiator.
‘But Ferdie, I’m his mother. I love him totally. How can you expect me to live without him?’
‘I’m his father. I love him totally too. And I’m not going to live without him. He’s my son. He’s the carrier of my family’s heritage into the future. I’m bringing him up so that he’ll be a Piedraplata. If you bring him up, he’ll be your son. He won’t be a true Piedraplata. He’ll carry your heritage into the future, and if
you remarry, he’ll carry another man’s. No, Amanda. It’s only fair. You have Anna Clara,’ Ferdie said, using the baby’s name for the first time since her arrival in Mexico, ‘and I have Manolito.’
Speechless, she sat rooted to the chair, frozen with shock.
Ferdie stood, placed his napkin on the table and said: ‘Don’t fight me on this, unless you want to lose everything, including the settlement and Anna Clara. This is the way it has to be, and this is the way it’s going to be. Accept it, and I’ll always be here for you. Fight me, and I’ll win.’
He then walked away, turned back just before entering the house and said: ‘You can stay here till you get used to things the way they’re going to be. I’m not pushing you out onto the street. I know it’s going to be difficult for you to leave Manolito and me and make a new life for yourself with a little baby. There’s no rush. But maybe you could start to make plans to leave. Shall we say, by Easter?’
The sensation of being trapped in the wrong life welling up within her, Amanda simply nodded her head.
‘I leave it up to you what you tell your friends. For my part, I intend to say nothing to anyone except Raymond and Philippe, and my mother and Clara of course. But I will be going out on my own from now on. No point playing happy families, if we’re going to part company.’ With that, Ferdie walked into the house to leave for work.
Confronted by a situation she could never have imagined in her worst nightmares, Amanda resolved to keep things as amiable as possible.
It was Ferdie’s habit, when home from work, to play with Manolito downstairs until his son’s bedtime. In the past, she had sometimes taken part in this activity, depending on her schedule. She decided that, from now on, she would keep out of Ferdie’s way during his playtime with Manolito and would instead stay either in her bedroom or in Anna Clara’s room, until Ferdie had finished playing with Manolito. Then, and only then, would she go into his room to say goodnight to the son she was going to lose.
That first night, already aware that she would soon have to relinquish custody of Manolito to Ferdie, Amanda experienced an overwhelming sense of unreality as she tucked the boy into bed. ‘Soon,’ a voice told her, ‘the day will come when you can no longer undertake this simple but important maternal activity.’ As she looked down on him, and he looked back at her, puckering his lips for a kiss, she asked herself how she would ever find the strength to leave him behind.
Feeling like a character in the wrong film, Amanda kissed Manolito, said, ‘Goodnight, darling, sleep tight,’ and walked back to her bedroom, the tears streaming down her face. Just then Ferdie came out of his room, and their paths inadvertently crossed.
‘I’m off for dinner,’ he said blandly but courteously. ‘See you tomorrow.’
‘Good night, Ferdie,’ Amanda replied, trying to keep her voice as level as possible.
He was on his way to dine at Bianca Calman’s house.
How Ferdie came to dine at Bianca’s said a lot about the woman who would soon take Amanda’s place. Ferdie had been true to his word, telling no one but his mother, sister and partners about the impending separation. Within minutes of informing Philippe and Raymond, however, the brothers had been on the telephone to give their respective women the news. Begonia and Bianca were both surprised, as everyone else who knew the Golden Couple would be, but it was the latter who seized the moment. ‘Darling,’ she said sweetly to Philippe when he gave her the news, ‘you must bring poor Ferdie when you come for supper this evening. My heart goes out to him. He must be beside himself, especially as he hasn’t been well of late. The last thing you want is Ferdie having a breakdown. I promise you, I’ll do all I can to help tide you over this period with him. You know I’ll always do anything I can to keep my Philippe happy, don’t you, darling?’
‘I’m the luckiest man alive to have a woman like you. I can’t wait for the day when we’re married,’ he replied. ‘I’ll just buzz Ferdie and see if he wants to come.’
When Philippe gave Bianca the answer she yearned for, she resolved to do everything in her power to make the most of this chance, even though she did not yet know what advantage she could obtain from it.
She and Bernardo, who had not yet come to a final decision regarding their future together, struck just the right note that first evening with Ferdie, as Philippe had known they would. They welcomed him unreservedly, taking care not to allude to Amanda or his problems even once, and treated him as if he had always a close member of their inner circle. Bernardo was particularly careful not to fawn over him, which might have made Ferdie uncomfortable, and although Bianca’s fabled charm was very much in evidence, she spread it evenly between the men and her children.
Ferdie was enchanted with the warmth of his hosts and the vibrancy of their conversation. Dinner at the Calmans, he had been told by Philippe, was always a time for intelligent discourse about current affairs, although this was frequently relieved with gossip, for they were also much taken with the current affairs of their social circle and could be relied upon, as on this occasion with Ferdie, to provide a sparkling array of ideas and affairs for the delectation of everyone around the table. By the end of the evening, Ferdie was so relaxed and stimulated by the company that he was loathe to leave when Philippe rose to go, saying, ‘It’s time for me to get to bed. Thanks for yet another marvellous evening, Bernardo and Bianca.’
Reluctantly, Ferdie got to his feet as well. ‘Thanks for having me, Bernardo… Bianca. I’ve enjoyed myself thoroughly. I’ve often heard about evenings with the Calmans from Philippe. Now I understand why he’s such a fixture here.’
‘Drop in whenever you want,’ Bernardo said, showing traditional Latin American hospitality. ‘Our home is your home.’
‘Yes, you must,’ Bianca said, noticing that Ferdie was almost puckering his lips when looking at her. ‘He does fancy me,’ she said to herself, not for the first time.
Although Bianca was right, the last thing on Ferdie’s mind at that time was starting another relationship with any other woman. He was still emotionally frozen by the events leading up to his estrangement from Amanda and, in this period of transition, really only wanted to mark time with congenial and undemanding company. From such small acorns are mighty oaks produced.
The following afternoon, Ferdie was conducting a meeting concerning Banco Imperiale business in Geneva. At the end of it, he turned to Philippe and said: ‘I’m at a loose end this evening, and I’d prefer not to stay at home. Better to keep out of Amanda’s way. If you’re not going out, why don’t we do something together?’
‘I mentioned to Bianca that I’d drop in for supper.’
Ferdie looked at Philippe hopefully.
‘If you won’t find it too boring,’ said Philippe, aware that it was in his interests to keep the senior partner happy, ‘why don’t I ring her and ask if I can bring you along as well?’
‘That sounds like fun.’
‘There’s never a dull moment around them, that’s for sure,’ said Philippe, pleased that Ferdie seemed to be so taken with the charms of what he now considered to be his future wife and family.
This set a pattern for the next six weeks. At first, Philippe was pleased to take his business partner along to the Calmans, but with the passage of time, his tolerance waned. The other man’s perpetual presence was evolving into an intrusion and, although he never manifested personal interest in Bianca, both Philippe and Bernardo began to watch him closely lest an attachment was forming.
For her own part, Bianca found herself having virtually identical conversations with both her husband and her lover. ‘No, Ferdie has never telephoned me. No, he has never tried to kiss me. No, he has never even held my hand. Or brushed past me closely. I’ve never met him for lunch. I’ve never had tea with him. I’ve never had an assignation with him. He’s never once indicated by word or deed that he has any interest whatsoever in me as a woman. He’s just lonely. At a loose end. Using our friendship to tide him over until Amanda leaves. Doubtless, he�
��ll spread his wings once she does, and then life will return to normal, with Ferdie making himself as scarce as he did before his separation.’
Although a part of her told Bianca that what she was saying was true, another and less rational part told her that it wasn’t. ‘Suppose, as Bernardo puts it, Ferdie is sweet on me?’ she asked herself. ‘Suppose he is more than sweet on me? Suppose he is falling in love with me? Or has fallen? Does he know about my relationship with Philippe?’
That, Bianca realized, was something she would have to find out, because the answer could have a crucial bearing on her options. The opportunity came one afternoon when Philippe was complaining to her over the telephone about Ferdie. Taking a deep inaudible breath, she said in her sweetest tone of voice: ‘You’ve always said that no one knows anything about us, not even Raymond and Begonia. I take it that applies to Ferdie as well.’
‘Of course it does,’ her lover replied, knowing how terrified his mistress was of discovery until she was safely divorced from Bernardo.
‘You’d think he’d have the perspicacity to at least query the nature of our relationship.’
‘Oh, he did,’ Philippe said airily. ‘On the way home the second time I brought him over to you. I said that of course there wasn’t anything between us. I said I liked the whole Calman family. I said how stimulating and welcoming I found you all, and he accepted that. In fact, he said he also found your family exceptionally stimulating and welcoming. I asked him if he was drawn to you, and he said, “Which man wouldn’t be?” before going on to say that you were another man’s wife and he’d never touch a woman in those circumstances. Since then, he’s said from time to time that yours is his ideal of what family life should be. I think he’s hoping to meet someone like you, Bianca, and marry her as soon as Amanda’s out of the picture. Do you know anyone who would fit the bill?’
Empress Bianca Page 15
