Baby Be Mine

press says, but Lena confirmed it. Quite happily, in fact. She also said that, to her knowledge, Johnny has been teetotal for almost two months. But that’s the key, you see: to her knowledge. I can’t believe it. I want to, but I can’t.
    He tried to come and visit us over Christmas, but I was so angry about the stories I’d seen in the press and the photos of him and Dana looking absolutely rat-arsed, that I told him quite strongly to stay away. I said I didn’t want to hear another thing from him until he’d changed. He hasn’t contacted me since, but Lena has. The cynical side of me wonders if he’s put her up to it.
    At the beginning of April, Dana checks herself out of rehab. I do what always makes me feel sick and dirty and scour the internet for news and gossip about Johnny and her, but, to my surprise, there’s very little about them. I don’t know if it’s because everyone has become bored with their tawdry lives or if it’s because there genuinely isn’t much to say. Three nights in a row I torture myself by doing this, and by the fourth night I’m so confused by what I’m seeing – or not seeing – that I seriously consider calling Lena for the lowdown. Somehow, I’m still not sure how, I manage to restrain myself. The next day, Christian comes to visit, and for the first time since we started on our tentative journey towards friendship, he asks me about Johnny.
    ‘Do you hear much from him?’
    ‘No,’ I reply. ‘Not much at all these days. He called occasionally when we first moved here,’ I explain. ‘But he was angry with me for leaving LA, and then I was angry with him for all the crap he gets up to with Dana, so I told him to stay away from us for a while.’
    ‘I saw she’s out of rehab,’ he comments.
    ‘Mmm. We’ll see how long that lasts.’
    ‘What did you think of her?’
    ‘What do you reckon? I couldn’t stand her! She was always winding me up, calling me names and swearing in front of Barney.’
    ‘I’m surprised you lasted in LA as long as you did.’
    ‘I bet you thought we were crazy to go there in the first place,’ I muse aloud.
    He says nothing for a while, then: ‘No, I understood it.’
    I glance at him. ‘You did?’
    ‘I didn’t want to, but yes, I did.’
    ‘I bet you knew it wouldn’t work out, too.’
    He raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t answer. That’s a yes, then.
    ‘Shall we go for a walk into town?’ he suggests instead.
    ‘That’d be nice. Is it warm out? Do we need our coats?’
    ‘No, it’s lovely.’
    ‘Aah, I so hope we have a decent summer . . .’
    ‘Me, too. Hey, we could hire a rowboat on the river!’ he suggests excitedly.
    ‘Ooh, yeah!’ I enthuse. ‘We haven’t done that yet.’
    ‘Wicked! Let’s go.’
    It’s so nice to have him back in our lives. I was right: he is seeing someone. She’s called Sara and she works at his publishers doing the publicity for his books. I met her at his book launch and immediately sensed there was something going on. She’s very pretty, with long dark hair and extremely blue eyes. She’s about my age – give or take a year. I don’t want to ask too many questions about her for fear of him thinking I’m in any way jealous. He deserves to be happy.
    It’s four o’clock by the time we get back to the house. Christian is carrying Barney on his shoulders because it’s hard enough pushing the buggy across the gravel driveway without the weight of my son in it. He’s pretending to be a horse and Barney is laughing his head off as he rears and neighs. I jolt to a stop when I see Johnny standing on the doorstep, a lit cigarette in his hand. Christian carries on playing, oblivious, but my feet are rooted to the spot. I put my hand on Christian’s arm and he follows my gaze, tensing suddenly when he realises what I’ve seen. He lifts Barney down from his shoulders, but Barney immediately starts to whinge and complain, jumping about in front of him and wanting to be picked up again. Instead, I whisk Barney up into my arms and Christian carries the buggy. We walk together to meet Johnny, who is stony-faced as he watches us.
    ‘Hello,’ I say.
    ‘Alright,’ he replies curtly.
    ‘You should have told me you were coming.’
    ‘I wanted to surprise you,’ he says, glancing at Christian.
    Barney wriggles in my arms so I put him down and he runs over to Johnny.
    ‘Hey, little buddy,’ he says warmly, ditching his cigarette and swooping him up. Christian averts his