Baby Be Mine (16 page)

‘And swimming nappies,’ he passes on. ‘For a one-year-old.’ Pause. ‘Size ten in the UK, six in the US. I don’t know how your sizing works over here.’ Pause. ‘Thanks.’ He hangs up.

I try to mask my surprise that Johnny remembers what size I am.

Within five minutes, there’s another knock at the door and we’re brought in a selection of designer swimming costumes for me, from bikinis to one-pieces, plus children’s swimming trunks and nappies for Barney. I take the collection and go through to the bathroom, reeling slightly.

When I emerge, my chosen bikini on underneath my skirt and top, Johnny is not in the living room. I go through to the bedroom to see him perched on the end of the bed, gazing into the buggy.

He glances up at me as I stand at the doorway. ‘Still asleep?’ I whisper.

He looks down again. ‘I thought I heard a noise.’ He gets up and walks towards me. I turn and lead the way back to the sofas.

‘Find one you like?’ he asks.

‘Yep.’ I ping the strap poking out from underneath my T-shirt.

‘Black,’ he notes.

‘I know, I’m boring.’ I cast my eyes heavenwards and sit down.

‘Suits you.’ He collapses onto the sofa opposite and rests his arm against the back of it. ‘Always did.’

Is he mocking me? Barney lets out a sharp cry and I leap to my feet as I always do, even though there’s no rush.

‘Hello,’ I say sweetly, peering into the buggy. He’s rubbing at his eyes and looks like he’s about to burst into tears. ‘Come on.’ I unclick his buckles and lift him out. He sleepily buries his head into my neck as I carry him back through to Johnny, then he lifts his head and looks around before cuddling back into me. ‘It usually takes him a little while to wake up,’ I explain.

Johnny nods, lost for words. His face is that strange mix of emotions again and I notice that he’s sitting up a bit straighter.

‘We’ve come to see Johnny,’ I say in a high-pitched tone into my son’s ear. He doesn’t move from his snug position. ‘Do you want a biscuit?’

His head shoots up. He might not be able to say the word, but he certainly knows what it means. I smile at Johnny as he passes over the plate that came up with our coffees. Barney takes a biscuit with his chubby fingers and has a small bite, before glancing across the coffee table with mild interest at Johnny.

‘Your mum thought you might like to go for a swim,’ Johnny suggests hopefully, mimicking my high-pitched tone. I try not to smile.

Barney continues to eat his biscuit without making any indication of having heard him.

‘Would you like that?’ I ask. He continues to munch. I glance at my watch. It’s after twelve. ‘Maybe we’ll have some lunch first. Shall we go downstairs for a change of scenery?’ I ask Johnny before he can pick up the phone again.

‘Sure.’

Twenty minutes later, we’re downstairs in the sitting room. There’s a fireplace to my left already laid out with logs for this evening’s blaze, and on the right is a small bar area. More family portraits line the walls and there’s an abundance of fresh flowers in large vases. We’re seated at a table with Barney between us in a highchair. I’ve already started the messy business of feeding him. It’ll be interesting to see how Johnny copes with this.

‘How’s your work going?’ I ask Johnny. ‘Are you writing at the moment?’

‘No. Haven’t written anything for a while.’

‘Too busy partying and ending up in rehab,’ I say wryly.

Barney reaches across and tries to grab Johnny’s heavy metallic watch.

‘No, darling,’ I say, catching his arm before he smears tuna mayonnaise all over Johnny’s – platinum, probably – timepiece.

‘It’s okay,’ Johnny says, shaking his arm so his watch jangles slightly. I flinch as Barney’s grubby fingers grapple with their prize. Johnny unclasps the watch and hands it to him.

‘Do you like that? You can have it, if you like.’

‘No, baby, give it back to Johnny,’ I insist, knowing it probably cost more than our car.

‘Why?’ Johnny asks. ‘It’s not like I can’t afford it. I want him to have something from me.’

‘Buy him a teddy,’ I say, taking a baby wipe out of my nappy bag and giving the watch a good polish before handing it back to its owner. I give Barney a plastic car to play with instead.

A waiter interrupts us with our
croque monsieurs. ‘Merci,’
I tell him.

When we’re alone again, I look across at Johnny. He’s distinctly unimpressed.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘I don’t like it that he has to call me by my first name.’

I sigh, wearily.

‘I don’t,’ he continues obstinately.

‘We can’t do anything about that now,’ I say calmly. ‘It’s too soon. Anyway, it’s not like he can even say “Daddy” yet.’

‘But he will learn. Probably soon. And technically the term applies to me.’ Not Christian, he refrains from adding.

‘Be patient,’ I plead.

‘I don’t want to be patient,’ he bites back.

‘Well, of course not.’ Sarcasm kicks in. ‘You’re used to getting everything you want, aren’t you?’

Barney grizzles.

‘Sorry, baby.’ I instantly come out of my mood. I know I’m being a bitch. I glance at Johnny. ‘Sorry,’ I mouth.

He starts to cut up his toasted ham and cheese sandwich. ‘Not everything,’ he murmurs.

What’s that supposed to mean?

The chateau staff clear the spa area in advance for us so we have the swimming pool to ourselves. It’s in a beautiful ornate glasshouse and it’s heated to just the right temperature.

Despite the fact that Barney is in my arms and consequently covering a large portion of my body, I feel self-conscious as I walk down the steps into the pool. Johnny is already waiting in the water.

‘Can he swim yet?’ he asks me.

I can’t help but laugh. ‘He can’t even walk.’

‘Well, I don’t know,’ he says defensively.

‘No, that’s true.’ I try to keep a straight face. ‘Why would you?’

‘Exactly. I haven’t been around kids before.’

‘You’re coping with this far better than I ever thought you would.’ I find myself speaking frankly.

He nods slightly, staring at Barney. ‘I can’t believe how much he looks like me. When did you know?’ He gives me an inquisitive look. ‘For sure.’

I take a deep breath. ‘When his eyes turned green. It was about six months ago, maybe a bit longer.’

‘Jesus, Meg,’ he breathes.

‘Language,’ I berate, for want of anything else to say.

‘Can I hold him?’ he asks, opening up his arms.

‘You want to swim to Johnny?’ I ask Barney and don’t wait for his answer before zooming him at breakneck speed around in a circle and over to his bio-dad. He’s giggling by the time he reaches him. Johnny repeats the action and zooms him back to me.

It’s not long before I acknowledge to myself that I’m having a nice time, and then, of course, the guilt kicks in.

‘I guess we should set off soon,’ I say reluctantly.

Johnny’s face falls. ‘You can’t stay a bit longer?’

‘We should get back,’ I reply. I walk to the steps and climb out, feeling self-conscious again. I grab a towel and quickly wrap it around myself before tending to Barney.

‘What are you doing tomorrow?’ Johnny asks, reaching for a towel and patting himself dry. He doesn’t bother to cover up his body. He’s toned and tanned and has been told time and time again that he’s one of the fittest guys on the planet, so he’s hardly lacking in self-confidence.

‘I don’t know yet,’ I reply, averting my gaze. ‘Have you ever been to Carcassonne?’ I ask.

‘No.’

‘It’s beautiful,’ I enthuse. ‘There’s a medieval village on top of a hill with views all around. Maybe we could go there for lunch.’

‘That’d be great.’

I suddenly get a reality check. ‘Um, sorry, I’ll actually have to speak to Christian first.’ I was getting carried away. ‘Let’s talk in the morning.’

Later, Johnny walks us out to the car. I put my nappy bag in the front passenger seat and turn around to see him trying to figure out the car seat. ‘I’ll do that.’ He watches over my shoulder as I buckle in my son. ‘These things are a nightmare.’ I shut the car door and turn around to face him. ‘I’m sorry for not telling you about him,’ I blurt out. His green eyes study mine for a moment, the smile gone from his lips. He nods abruptly and then pats the car roof with finality.

‘Let’s move on.’

My nose starts to prickle. ‘Okay.’ I climb in the car. Johnny raps on the back window and motions for me to put it down.

‘Bye, Barney,’ he says cheerfully. ‘See you tomorrow, okay, buddy?’

It’s only when we’re driving away that I hear a rattling sound and look back to see Barney playing with Johnny’s watch. I smile and shake my head, then make a mental note to hide it in my nappy bag before Christian sees it. It’s not worth enraging him anymore tonight.

The house is empty when we arrive home. I call Christian to let him know we’re back, but the phone goes straight through to voicemail. Hopefully he’s just out of reception. I leave a message and then get on with Barney’s dinner.

By the time Christian’s keys sound in the lock at ten o’clock that night, his shrivelled-up dinner in the oven looks almost as bad as I feel.

‘Christian?’ I call anxiously, getting to my feet. I’ve been sitting in the living room fearing the worst. ‘I was worried something had happened to you.’

He walks into the living room wearily and stares at me.

‘I can’t do it,’ he says.

‘Can’t do what?’

‘I can’t do it.’

‘You can,’ I implore, a lump forming in my throat.

He shakes his head. ‘I can’t, Meg. I wanted to. I wanted to do the right thing by Barney. But I don’t have the strength. He won’t remember me—’

‘No!’ I interrupt.

‘He won’t,’ he continues. ‘Not when he’s older. Kids adapt very quickly, especially at this age. It’s better that I walk away now before it all gets too confusing for him.’

‘But I don’t want you to leave!’ I wail. ‘Barney doesn’t want you to leave!’ I try to get through to him, but he sounds so resolute, like he’s thought about this for far too long. ‘Please forgive me,’ I beg. ‘Can’t you forgive me?’

He looks at me and there’s sorrow in his eyes. For a split second I have hope, but when his answer comes, I know that he means it.

‘No.’

My insides turn to stone.

‘I’m going to join the band on tour tomorrow,’ he continues flatly. ‘I can’t fuck up another book.’ His tone becomes bitter for a moment, before reverting to dull. ‘I’ll be away for a week. It will give you time to pack up.’

‘Please,’ I beg again, getting to my feet and going to his side. ‘I love you.’

He meets my gaze and the warmth that I usually see in those dark-brown eyes is gone.

‘I don’t love you,’ he says. ‘Not anymore. And never, ever again.’

  Chapter 16  

Christian leaves early the next morning to catch his flight. He has a taxi collect him at five forty-five a.m., before Barney is awake. I stand out on the cold stone doorstep and wave at the cab driver to let him know his passenger is on his way.

Christian is in with Barney. He won’t wake him. He doesn’t want to say goodbye to his face. He thinks it’s better this way. Me, I’m not sure. But it’s not my choice; I just have to live with the consequences.

The door opens and Christian comes out, looking crushed. He walks towards me with his head down, but before he reaches the door he breaks down. I try to go to him, but he puts his hand up to keep me away.

‘I’m sorry.’ I’ve said it so many times it should be engraved on my tombstone.

He shakes his head and doesn’t meet my eyes. I go into the kitchen and get us both some tissues.

‘You could change your mind,’ I beg.

‘No.’ He’s steadfast. He vigorously wipes away his tears. He takes a deep breath and tries to compose himself before speaking. ‘I don’t want to lose him.’ His voice is wavering. ‘But I need some time. I don’t know how long—’ And then his speech cuts off so I hand him another tissue, my heart full of hope that maybe all is not lost as he dissolves into silent sobs. ‘I’ll be in touch,’ he says, and then he walks through the door and closes it behind him, without looking back.

I collapse onto the floor beneath me and cry so hard I fear my chest will burst. I can’t be a mother today. How can I be a mother today?