The Meaning of Purple Tulips Read online

  ‘But Faye, I don’t understand, if you didn’t say anything then why tell Nate now?’

  ‘I didn’t tell him.’

  ‘But then… why did he break up with you?’

  ‘He must know. He must have found out. It’s the only explanation.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I don’t know’

  ‘Faye, maybe you should try talking to him. See where this has all come from. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe he just got a fright, what with you about to start planning the wedding and all. Like you only just set the date, maybe it all became a little too real and he freaked – it happens – perfectly natural!’

  I heard the sense in her words, but I really didn’t think she was right, no matter how much I wanted her to be. I dialled his number again and I was surprised when he answered.

  ‘Faye, are you ok?’ he sounded genuinely concerned.

  ‘I don’t understand Nate, what happened.’

  ‘I’m sorry Faye, I can’t. It’s … Faye I am sorry, it’s over.’ The ‘it’s over’ shot like a dart through my head.

  ‘But why? I don’t understand.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Please stop saying sorry. Just tell what I did? What happened? Please. Can you come home? Can we talk about this?’

  ‘Faye there is nothing to talk about. I’m sorry, I’ve made my mind up.’

  ‘But I thought you loved me, why? I don’t understand.’

  ‘I do… I mean I did. I’m sorry Faye.’

  ‘Please come home, to talk. I just want to talk.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I can’t. Not now. In a few days, maybe, but right now I can’t.’

  He hung up the phone and I whaled into my pillow. I wanted the ground to swallow me up, I wanted everything to stop. The world, my world, couldn’t keep on turning unless Nate was in it. If Nate wasn’t here there was no point to my existence. I lay on the bed crying. I could hear Chloe’s muted voice in the next room but nothing really mattered. Nothing mattered now.

  I was aware of more people arriving and in the room with me. I think maybe my mum was talking to me. I think maybe my brother Josh was laying beside me. I think that someone brought in food. I vaguely remember a TV flashing before me. At some point, I must have fallen into a fitful sleep, I woke dazed during the night, reality crashing back on me. This time Chloe was sleeping beside me. I closed my eyes again.

  Sun light streamed onto my face and woke me up. I could hear voices again in the other room, my door opened, someone spoke, I tried to look at them but I couldn’t. I closed my eyes again. I could hear a phone ringing, my phone. It wasn’t near me. I listened to see where it was, someone answered it. I could hear talking, raised voices and then a knock at the door.

  ‘Faye, are you awake?’ It was Chloe. ‘Faye, Nate is on the phone. He wants to talk to you. Do you want to talk to him?’

  I just nodded. Nate, he wanted to talk to me, maybe he was coming home! Taking it from her;

  ‘Hello?..’ It was strange to hear my own voice.

  ‘Faye, hi. Are you ok? Your mum, your mum said you’ve not been doing so well’

  Well? What constituted as well?

  ‘Are you coming home?’ my voice was childlike.

  ‘No Faye, I’m not. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Nate, I can’t… I can’t live without you.’

  ‘You can Faye, you have to…sorry maybe calling was a bad idea. I’m sorry.’ He hung up again.

  It was over. It was really over. I could hear the finality in his voice. If Nate and I were over, then I was over too. I didn’t want to be alive unless Nate was in my life. I couldn’t be alive unless Nate was in my life.

  For two further days I didn’t move from my bed; well except to go to the bathroom. On one trip, I gathered all the paracetemol I could find up. I kept them for period pain, something I realised that I hadn’t had in a while, not that it mattered now. I had two and a half packets – I didn’t know if that would be enough. I didn’t know what constituted enough. Should I be sure that two and half packets were enough to end it all? I figured it must be enough, it had to be.

  Sitting at the edge of the bed, I stared at the pill packets. They glistened in the light, just like my engagement ring did. I realised then I hadn’t taken it off yet. Twisting my hand around, I admired the perfect setting again. It really was gorgeous. I took it off and placed it on the bedside locker. I looked at the packages again. In a few moments it would be all over, all the pain, all the hurt. Everything! I sat staring. I sat forcing myself to pop the pills from their protective casings. I sat willing the strength into me to take my own life.

  I couldn’t, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I threw myself back down on the bed. You coward, you big coward! I rang Chloe and told her she needed to come over, she was at the door in ten minutes.

  ‘C’mon Faye, I am taking you home.’

  I didn’t put up a fight. I held out my hands as she dressed me. I watched as she packed me a bag and I sat patiently as she drove us both back to Ballywaters. When I got home I went straight to my room and got into bed. My mum looked in on me every hour but every hour I pretended to be asleep. The following morning she shook me awake, so I couldn’t pretend anymore.

  ‘Faye, Faye, wake up! I’ve made you an appointment to get your hair done down in the salon. It will make you feel better. My treat! Into the shower with you now… and come down for breakfast.’

  ‘No, mum I want to stay in bed.’

  ‘Faye Marie Winters get out of bed this instant and into the shower with you. I want to see you down for breakfast in twenty minutes!’ Something in the force of my mum’s voice awoke something in me and I was up and walking towards the shower as she closed my bedroom door behind her.

  An hour later I was sitting in a stylist’s chair mindlessly thumbing through a magazine.

  ‘Faye, how are ya!’

  Amy had been doing my hair for years now. She was in her late thirties, gorgeous, successful and rich. I smiled weakly at her reflection in the mirror, why couldn’t I have had all that, I thought. I couldn’t look her in the eye. I hadn’t found the strength to talk; she didn’t need any encouragement normally and today was no exception.

  ‘Your mum mentioned you were going through a difficult patch. Faye, you’ve got two choices here. You can go home, slit you wrists, bleed to death, we’ll all go to your funeral, say lovely things about you and get on with our lives. Or you can cop on and get on with your life. You’re not the first to have her heart broken and you won’t be the last. I’m not saying it won’t be hard Faye, but life has an uncanny knack of going on regardless.’

  She didn’t say anything else to me after that. I sat in silence repeating to myself what she had just said. ‘Life would go on regardless’ – isn’t that what Marmie used to say. Marmie, it was Marmie, my beloved grandmother, who had brought us together; Nate and I five years ago. What would she think now, if she was alive?

  I walked home, passed Nate’s house; why did our parents have to live so close to each other? It had been so great when we were together, but now… well now it was torture. His car was in the drive so I guessed he was staying there, I’d never thought of where he might have gone when he walked out the door. I stood looking at his house. I’d made a decision at the salon, was it fate that he should be at his parents? I was tempted to talk to him in person, but I didn’t think I would have the resolve. I walked on. My mum saw me come up the drive and opened the door for me.

  ‘Oh Faye, your hair is lovely! Do you feel any better?’

  ‘I do mum, thanks.’

  ‘Oh that’s good’ she gushed.

  Sitting at the kitchen table with her, I told her of my decisions. She looked at me seriously and considered them for a few minutes.

  'If that is what you want to do, then go for it. Your father and I will be here if you need us.’

  ‘Thanks mum.’

  I went into the next room, I wanted to do this on my own but I still wanted her near
by. I hesitated; I’d been with Nate since I was 17. Picking up the phone, I dialled the number that was second nature to me and waited as it rung three times.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hi Nate, its Faye.’

  ‘Faye, I…’

  ‘Please Nate, just listen.’

  ‘Ok.’

  ‘Is it really over between us? Is there no going back?’

  ‘No Faye, I’m sorry there isn’t’

  ‘Do you want the apartment?’

  ‘No, Faye, you can have it.’

  ‘I won’t be living there Nate. If you don’t want it you can cancel the lease.’

  ‘Oh right.’

  ‘I’ll have my things out of there by the end of the week Nate; I would appreciate if you would stay away until then. I’ll be here in my parents until the morning so you can use that time to get what you need for now. I’ll push the keys through the letter box and you can let me know whatever bills need to be paid.’

  ‘Faye, it doesn’t need to be like this.’

  ‘How is it supposed to be Nate?’

  ‘I don’t know, but this seems so cold.’

  ‘You broke up with me Nate, how am I supposed to act?’

  ‘I don’t know. Faye I’m sorry…’

  ‘Nate if you are so sorry why did you break up with me?’ I knew he probably wouldn’t answer, but it was all I could think to say.

  ‘Faye, what will you do now?’

  ‘That’s no concern of yours now Nate. Let me know what I owe you for bills.’ I hung up and with that, I had taken the first step toward my new life.

  Chapter 2 – Wishful Thinking

  They say you should be careful what you wish for because you might actually get it. In my darkest moments, I wished I wasn’t going through this on my own, I wished that my friends weren’t all blissfully happy in their relationships. I was struggling, but the reality was I would never have really wished this on anyone of them. And when, 6 weeks later Chloe’s boyfriend dumped her unceremoniously, I deeply regretted ever having any thoughts about it.

  She too got no warning, no explanation and no choices. It only confirmed what I had been thinking for the past few weeks -men were pigs! Ironically enough, even though I thought men were pigs, it was men I was filling my days and nights with. I was dating 3 men. I hadn’t intended on dating that many at once, it just sort of happened and their distraction was proving useful. Having been promoted from ‘Apprentice Interior Designer’ to ‘Full Blown Interior Designer’ in work, searching for an apartment and trying to fit in friends and 3 different men all at once, I barely had time to think of Nate and what might have been. It worked, I was busy, out there and while I still didn’t feel normal, I felt human.

  It was strange to date. Sure I had been on ‘dates’, but as a teenager they always had the purpose of leading to a boyfriend and girlfriend scenario. For the first time, at 23 I was dating - just for the sake of it. I didn’t see or want anything long term with any of these men, but yet I had to stop myself from what seemed like a natural, pre-programmed ability to fall into being a girlfriend.

  I suppose this was a bi-product of being propelled out of a five year relationship. I was learning, slowly, how to be on my own. How to do things for myself, and yes while I didn’t like doing a few of those things, I knew it was important. You see, I was broken. Broken more than anyone knew; maybe even broken wasn’t a strong enough word for it. I was crushed; crushed beyond repair. I knew I would never be the same, never love the same. And so I dated. I dated and kept them all at arm’s length.

  Ross was the first of my victims; I had decided that victim was a suitable description for them. Ross was a struggling DJ. I had quite literally fallen, drunk, into his arms in a night club almost taking him and his decks with me as he came off stage after a set. He wasn’t my type at all, he was different and right now, different was good. He wasn’t terribly tall, our eyes parallel when we kissed, but he had muscles and tattoos and wore tight t-shirts and was just that little bit bad! And every girl has to date a bad boy, doesn’t she? Ross was my night owl dating companion – he was the partier. He knew where all the good parties were, he knew all the bouncers worth knowing and it was fun to have a personal party coordinator on hand if and when I wanted one. The downside, he wanted far more from me, than I was willing to give.

  Matt, I met standing in line for coffee. He stood on my toe in his big size 11s and I whacked him in the back as I squealed in pain. Slightly shocked, he wheeled around in surprised horror when he saw me half hopping, half dancing around. Matt was a nice guy, an engineer. He owned his own home and drove a BMW – he was corporate. Corporate was something I had never dated before either. He took me to dinner, the theatre, and I got the impression that most of our dating was an act, at 29 he seemed to portray a life he had seen in movies and adapted as his own, it was all a little staged. He asked me about things like my interest in movies, books, my likes, dislikes as though he was conducting an interview, he wasn’t conversational. Occasionally, if we had a glass of wine too many, a different Matt would emerge, a more passionate Matt. He kissed me deeper, was less guarded. But that was the thing with Matt, he was mostly guarded.

  Ken completed the trio. He was a gym instructor. I desperately had to do something about my weight and so I joined the gym. He wasn’t my gym instructor but I never could work the blasted machines properly and so late on a Thursday evening, he rescued me from my fight with some machine that promised to mould and sculpt me. Ken was a fitness fanatic. He was obsessed with exercise. Most of our dates consisted of 5 mile walks along the coast and on the rare occasion I stayed over at his, he would always get up and do his night time bench press routine even if we had been in bed for hours. Ken liked to keep things about us secret. I expect it was because he was this perfect Adonis and in comparison to him I was well… a work in progress. I must admit though that the gruelling routine he was ensuring I kept to in the gym and then at home was having the desired effect. Ok so I wasn’t a size 10 again but I was looking darn good.

  Not only did I have Ross, Matt and Ken to keep me occupied but in the small office, Perfect Designs, where I worked, James, the office sleaze, had begun to flirt rather persistently in my direction. Sitting casually on the edge of my desk he would make me blush at his attempts at looking down my top. I should have more self-respect… but I have to admit to dressing slightly provocatively to encourage him. I was having fun, there was never anything in it. James, I knew was only after a quick lay and while I knew I would never be going there, flirting with him brightened my day. And I enjoyed it, even though I shouldn’t have given him the time of day.

  James Hardy was a smarmy charmer, but somehow, despite that, you couldn’t help but like him. His personality was the type, designed to irate and annoy you, but his almost blatant spoilt rich kid, devil may care attitude dared you to like him. He openly flirted with every female in the office, in fact he openly flirted with every female he came into contact with, we all knew it; and yet we all somehow, involuntarily, swooned.

  He wasn’t gorgeous but he dripped charisma, drove a fast car and exuded confidence -that perhaps wasn’t his own. He was the architect at the small design firm, Perfect Designs that I worked at. James came with a little office baggage in the form of our CAD technician, Suzanne Reynolds. Suzanne had a major crush on James. There was a rumour that they had dated for a while, not that you would think it, James acted like Suzanne didn’t exist which was especially difficult when they worked so closely together. Suzanne and I had never been bosom buddies but since James and my flirtation had begun she hated me with a passion and wasn’t afraid to show it. I had no interest in James, I was still torn between loving and hating him, but I had even less interest in Suzanne and what she might think so I let her be.

  Lucy, our Receptionist and one of my closet friends, was intent on getting me as far away from James as possible and was trying to set me up on date after date with any breathing male she came into contact with. I prot
ested all the time and said I had my hands full with the 3 I had; but she persisted. When she got wind that Ross seemed to have fallen off the face of the earth, she began to plot. I wasn’t sorry to see him go. It was becoming tiresome having to keep up the charade of interest in them all and I was strongly thinking of cutting all my losses but I feared what might happen and what I might have to face if I had more time on my hands.

  I was single 4 months now, but it still stung when I drove past Nate’s parent’s house whenever I visited home. I hadn’t spoken to him since the split, not really, only to sort out bills. He hadn’t stayed on in the apartment either in the end and had only taken a single item from all we had bought together; a green and yellow Moroccan candle holder that had hung on the wall in the sitting room. We’d bought it at some junk sale and it held no particular meaning to our relationship. That had hurt.

  He’d changed jobs. Music had been his life long before he had even moved to Ballywaters, an accomplished pianist had had gone on to study music and then music production and sound engineering where he had worked since graduating. Now he had taken some business analyst’s job, not something I thought he would enjoy, but then I never thought he would break up with me either. Maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought.