Baby Be Mine (8 page)

‘What do you want to talk about?’ I ask uneasily.

He sighs. ‘I was just . . . thinking about you,’ he says carefully. ‘It’s been a long time.’

I nod.

‘Too long,’ he adds.

‘It’s been a while,’ I agree.

‘You seem happy.’ He sounds sincere.

‘I am,’ I tell him. Most of the time.

He smiles at me sadly. ‘It’s weird being back in this house. Staying here without Mrs Pettersson around.’

‘Did you know her well?’

‘I haven’t seen her much in recent years, but she looked after me, you know, when my mum got sick.’ His mum died of cancer. ‘I used to come and stay over when mum was in hospital. I’ll never forget that.’

My heart goes out to him. Johnny rarely talks about his mother’s death to anyone. It feels strangely natural to have him talk about her again to me. It must be to do with the darkness, the night – it’s catapulted us back to the way we once were.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.’

‘It’s okay. How could you?’ He pauses. ‘Rosa always asks Christian about you.’

‘Does she?’

‘At least, she used to,’ he adds. ‘She quit.’ He shrugs and tries to appear indifferent, but I can tell that he’s hurting.

‘She found you after the overdose, didn’t she?’ He glances up at me and nods slightly. ‘It doesn’t surprise me that she quit,’ I continue.

He looks down again. ‘I guess enough was enough for her.’

‘That’s very sad,’ I say and mean it. ‘She was part of the family.’

‘I know.’ He takes a deep breath and exhales loudly.

‘What about everyone else? I often think of them.’

‘Lewis, Samuel, Ted and Sandy are all still there.’ Sandy was the maid. The first three make up the security team.

‘What about Santiago?’

‘I knew you meant him,’ he says with a slight smile.

‘He was a friend!’ My voice rises. I don’t know why I sound defensive. He may have come to Johnny’s house only once a week to tend to the gardens and treat the pool, but I sometimes found myself chatting to him for hours.

‘Yeah,’ he replies. ‘He’s still there. Still smoking behind the garage . . .’

Once, when I was really stressed, Santiago gave me one of his cigarettes. Johnny saw and went bananas. He hated to think about anyone else corrupting me in any small way – I think he was actually jealous. That night he came into my room and into my bed . . . I shiver inadvertently.

‘You never became a smoker, then,’ Johnny continues.

‘Of course not,’ I retort. ‘I’m a mum. Anyway, it’s a filthy habit,’ I add with raised eyebrows.

He smirks. ‘Can’t argue with that.’

‘You should quit,’ I say.

‘There are a lot of things I should give up, Nutmeg, but I rarely do.’ He stretches his arms over his head and smiles at me and it takes me a moment to realise he’s just called me Nutmeg, the term of affection he used for me.

I come to my senses with a start. ‘I’d better get back to bed before Christian misses me.’

‘Of course.’

‘Don’t get up,’ I tell him, but he’s already on his feet. He meets me by the door and leans against the doorframe. I suddenly feel jittery.

‘I’m glad you’re happy,’ he murmurs, looking into my eyes. ‘You deserve it.’ He touches my arm, briefly, tenderly. Lost for words, I turn away and hurry up the stairs.

  Chapter 8  

I finally fall asleep around dawn, when daylight has already started seeping under the blinds. Christian wakes me unintentionally at around seven o’clock in the morning.

‘Sorry,’ he says. He’s pulling on his jeans. ‘Go back to sleep.’

‘No, it’s okay. I’m awake.’

He comes over to the bed to take my hand. ‘I wish I could come home with you today.’

I look up at him in sympathy. ‘How long do you think you should stay?’

‘I guess I’ll play it by ear. Dad’s a bit of a mess.’

He’s not telling me anything I don’t already know.

‘I’m going to head downstairs. Please stay in bed,’ he urges. ‘We don’t have to leave for the airport for two hours.’

‘No, I’m coming down.’

He shakes his head in amused frustration and leaves the room. I climb out of bed and pull on some jeans and a purple top. I make a concerted effort not to bother with make-up. The guilt is well and truly back.

What the hell was I thinking, going into a room alone with him? What would Christian think? Actually, Christian would probably approve. He wants us all to be friends. He’s fallen out before with Johnny and they always patch things up. Thankfully, he and Christian weren’t speaking at the time I fell pregnant, so Johnny couldn’t put two and two together with his dates. It took them about a year to get back on good terms, and by then Barney had already been born. But Johnny turning up yesterday for such a momentous occasion will certainly cement their friendship. Unfortunately.

I trot downstairs and into the kitchen, noticing on my way that the living room door is closed.

‘He still asleep?’ I ask Christian.

‘Yep.’ He’s making a coffee. ‘Want one?’

‘Sure,’ I reply. I look around the kitchen. Joel did a good job of finishing up. We hear someone coming down the stairs and both turn to see Eugen enter the room. He looks weary.

‘Alright, Dad?’ Christian says.

‘Alright, son.’

‘How did you sleep?’ I ask.

‘Not too bad. Took a pill,’ he admits.

‘Want a coffee?’ Christian asks him.

‘That’d be good.’ Eugen heads towards the living room.

‘Johnny’s asleep in there.’

Eugen turns around with a start.

‘What?’ he asks.

‘Johnny’s asleep on the sofa,’ Christian explains.

‘Can’t he afford a bleedin’ hotel with all his money?’ he barks. It’s the perkiest I’ve seen him in days.

‘I’m awake!’ Johnny shouts groggily from behind closed doors.

‘Aah, he’s awake,’ Eugen says with satisfaction and goes through to the living room.

‘Couldn’t sleep with all that racket,’ we hear Johnny mutter for Eugen’s benefit and Christian and I glance at each other and smile.

‘I’d better make him one, too,’ Christian says as an aside to me. ‘Didn’t see him drink anything last night, did you?’

‘No.’

‘Unless he raided the booze cabinet after we went to bed.’

‘I don’t think so.’ I try to keep my voice steady as I continue. ‘I came downstairs last night to get a glass of water and he was outside having a ciggie. We chatted for a while.’ I’ve got nothing to hide, I tell myself.

‘Did you?’ Christian looks interested. ‘What did you talk about?’

‘Not much. He told me Rosa had quit.’

‘Oh,’ he says. ‘That’s a shame.’

‘You didn’t know?’

‘No. Must’ve just happened.’

‘Morning.’ An exhausted-looking Johnny emerges at the doorway.

‘Hey,’ Christian says. ‘Heard you didn’t sleep too well?’

Johnny glances at me in surprise, but quickly recovers. I don’t suppose he thought I’d tell Christian about our night-time chat. ‘No. How are you? Alright?’ He comes over to Christian and puts his hand on his shoulder. I worry the sympathy could have adverse effects, but Christian shrugs.

‘Pretty shit, but I’ll be alright.’ He laughs half-heartedly.

Johnny gives him a sympathetic nod and pulls out a crumpled packet of cigarettes from his jeans pocket. He shakes out a fag and puts it between his lips.

‘I might just . . .’ He indicates the door with his thumb.

‘. . . pop outside for a cancer stick?’ Christian finishes his sentence.

‘You got that right,’ I snort.

‘Yeah, alright, Meg.’ Johnny pats my arm good-naturedly as he walks past. Christian smiles at me.

‘What?’ I say, when Johnny has gone.

‘See?’ he says. ‘I told you we could all be friends again.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ I mutter. But hope stirs inside me. I rarely admit it to myself, but I miss Johnny. I miss being a part of his life: his crazy, nutty, fast-paced life. I miss him.

Er,
Barney
?

Reality hits and a feeling of fear – a feeling I know so well – grips my throat and stomach. I can never be a part of his life. I can never let him meet Barney. For a moment there, I forgot that I’d slept with him, that I’d fallen pregnant with his child. For a moment, I forgot that everything was so complicated.

I turn away from Christian so he can’t see my face as all my positive feelings are crushed to death.

I tell Christian I don’t want breakfast and go upstairs to pack my bags. I take my time. I have a shower and put on some make-up in the attempt to make myself feel half-decent again. I carefully pack my things and then tidy the room for Christian. I feel so sad for him. I wish I didn’t have to leave him alone.

Everyone is in the living room when I return downstairs and I feel self-conscious and on edge.

‘Ready?’ Christian asks.

‘Yes,’ I reply.

‘Are your bags upstairs?’

I nod.

‘I’ll go and get them.’ He leaves the room and I try to find somewhere to turn my attention. I look at Eugen and give him a small smile.

‘Have you got any pics of your boy?’ Johnny asks and my whole head starts to itch as though imaginary ants are crawling around under a thin layer of skin.

‘Er, no,’ I manage to respond.

‘Christian doesn’t either,’ he says, rolling his eyes.

My relief is temporary.

‘I do!’ Eugen interrupts. I stare at him in horror as he reaches behind for one of the photo albums he’s been trawling through since we got here. Johnny takes the album and starts to flick through it.

In what feels like the distant background I can hear Christian lugging my suitcase and carry-on bag down the stairs, but I’m frozen.

‘What’ve you got there?’ Christian asks perkily, going to join Johnny. ‘Aah, baby pics,’ he says, glancing over Johnny’s shoulder.

‘He’s a looker,’ Johnny says, grinning at his friend. ‘Got your hair, mate.’

Oh, thank God. Barney is just a baby in the photos.

Christian laughs. ‘He’s got Meg’s now.’

I find my voice. ‘Come on, Christian, we should go.’

‘Right you are,’ he says.

‘Haven’t you got any recent ones?’ Johnny asks Eugen.

I tense up again, but he shakes his head. ‘No. Mandy—’ He clears his throat. ‘There are some on her computer.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Johnny says quickly, not wanting to set him off again.

I say my goodbyes to Eugen and Joel.

‘Thanks for all your help, sis,’ Joel jokes as I turn away from him to hug Eugen.

‘Yes, thank you,’ Eugen says, with tears in his eyes.

‘It was the least I could do,’ I reply as tears start to fill mine.

‘I’ll see you out,’ Johnny says and I don’t argue. I feel awkward enough looking at him, let alone hugging or kissing or doing neither of those things in front of Christian’s family.

Christian leads the way to the front door and opens it. ‘I’ll put these in the boot,’ he says tactfully, hauling the bags over the threshold and down the front steps.

I look up at Johnny. ‘See ya.’

He gives me a sad smile. ‘Bye, Meg.’

At least he didn’t call me Nutmeg again. I tell myself it’s for the best. I turn away.

‘Hey,’ he says with surprise. ‘Is this Mandy and Barney?’

I whip around and there, on the hallstand, is a close-up photo of Mandy and Barney. A recent photo. Johnny picks it up. I want to scream, ‘NO!’ but it’s too late.

I hear the car boot slam. ‘All set,’ Christian calls. I stare at Johnny in shock as he studies the picture and then everything turns to slow motion as his eyes meet mine. He looks stunned, like I’ve just punched him in the face. And if the similarity between him and Barney isn’t already clear enough, the look on my face will have instantly confirmed his suspicion.

I flee down the steps and climb into the car. Christian, oblivious, starts the ignition. I look out of the window at Johnny, who’s still staring after me, and silently beg him to keep quiet, to not say anything to Christian when he gets back from the airport, and then I face ahead and try to still my beating heart.

  Chapter 9