Baby Be Mine

something? It wasn’t that funny.
    ‘You’ve lost your ears,’ she says suddenly, looking at me with odd surprise. She wobbles slightly and one of her companions holds her up. I feel sick as I notice her pupils are dilated.
    ‘Where’s Johnny?’ I demand to know.
    ‘WHEEERRRREEEE’S JOHNNY?’ Derek shouts to much hilarity. They’re all off their faces. I turn and look around, wildly scanning the room for him. I see with disgust that a blond-haired knight in shining armour is snorting a line of coke off the coffee table, but Johnny is nowhere to be seen.
    Barney.
    I run up the stairs, bumping into you know who at the top.
    ‘JOHNNY!’ I shout.
    ‘ Nutmeg !’ he cries with unbridled delight, trying to put his arms around me. I push him away.
    ‘Where’s Barney?’
    His face falls. ‘I thought he was with you?’
    I feel sick, horribly sick. I shove him out of the way and run to Barney’s bedroom, pushing down the handle. It doesn’t budge. I urgently knock at the door, dread filling every part of me. The door opens and a grave-faced Bess is standing there with Barney in her arms.
    ‘Oh, thank God,’ I say, hurrying inside and shutting the door behind me.
    ‘Mummy,’ Barney says sleepily, reaching out for me. I take him and cuddle him into me.
    ‘What’s going on?’ I ask Bess.
    She shrugs. ‘I don’t know. They all appeared out of nowhere. Barney woke up with the noise so I came in to settle him, but he wasn’t going to go off again with that racket.’
    ‘No, of course not,’ I reply.
    ‘I locked the door so they wouldn’t come in.’ She shivers.
    ‘Why has he invited this lot back here?’
    She doesn’t respond. Someone pounds on the door.
    ‘NUTMEG!’
    ‘It’s Johnny,’ I say. ‘Ignore him.’
    But the pounding doesn’t stop. I hand Barney back to Bess and she takes him to the other side of the room, making shushing noises. I open the door a crack.
    ‘ What are you doing ?’ I screech in a loud whisper at Johnny.
    ‘Why didn’t you let me in?’ he demands to know, pushing the door wide open and sauntering in. He’s had way too much alcohol – and God knows what else.
    ‘I didn’t want you to disturb Barney!’ I exclaim.
    ‘Aah, Barney!’ he says happily.
    ‘Stop it!’ I shove him out of the room and follow after him. ‘Go away!’ I whisper angrily once we’re on the landing. A few revellers at the top of the stairs turn to look at us. I drag Johnny down the corridor.
    ‘Whoa, whoa, whoa,’ he says with a grin as I push him inside my bedroom. ‘Nutmeg, I didn’t think you cared.’
    ‘Fuck off, Johnny!’ I snap. ‘What the hell are you doing inviting all these people over? There’s someone snorting coke off the coffee table! Dana’s off her face – so are you – and YOUR SON is in the house!’ I’m practically screaming the last part.
    ‘Oh . . .’ Something dawns on him in the way that things do when you’ve drunk your own body weight in booze. ‘Sly broke his foot.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Sly.’
    ‘Sylvester, yes?’
    ‘Broke his foot. Fell down the stairs. Party got called off.’
    ‘So you invited everyone here?’ I ask with disbelief.
    He shrugs. ‘Dana did.’
    ‘That’s totally inappropriate!’ I cry.
    ‘No stopping her,’ he says cheerfully. ‘How long have you been back? I thought I saw you leaving with whatshisname.’
    ‘Joseph. I did leave with him. I’ve just got back now.’
    ‘Aah,’ he says knowingly, leaning up against the wall and folding his arms. ‘Good shag, was he?’
    ‘None of your bloody business,’ I reply hotly, wrenching open the door and shoving him out.
    ‘Don’t be cross with me, Nutmeg,’ he laments.
    I slam the door in his face and wait a minute before hurrying back to Barney’s room.
    It’s a long night. We decamp to my bedroom because the noise seems more manageable somehow and the bed is big enough for the three of us. Barney does eventually doze off, with me covering one ear with my hand, but he’s awake again and ready for breakfast well before the last person has left. Luckily I have a small kitchen in my room, so none of us has to venture outside yet. Bess didn’t have much sleep either, going by the bags under her eyes. As for me, I’ve still got all my make-up on and probably look like someone has punched me in the face. At least I managed to get out of my cat costume and into my PJs.
    ‘What a night,’ Bess murmurs.
    ‘What a nightmare, you mean,’ I reply.
    She nods.