Baby Be Mine

away. I look down to see Barney’s shoelace is undone. I bend down to tie it.
    ‘Have they gone?’ I ask under my breath.
    ‘Yes. Oh, no,’ he gives me a running commentary. ‘No, she’s just said something to him and now he’s looking over his shoulder.’ He starts to whistle under his breath as though completely unaware of the attention.
    ‘What are they doing now?’ I whisper up at him.
    ‘His jaw has just hit the ground.’
    ‘Look away! Look away!’ I exclaim. He grins down at me.
    ‘Don’t worry about it, Nutmeg. People were going to find out sooner or later.’
    ‘I was hoping it would be later.’
    ‘They might keep it quiet,’ he says reasonably.
    I stand back up and sigh. ‘I suppose they might just assume you look like him. Surely she wouldn’t really think I was with Johnny Jefferson.’
    ‘Exactly,’ he says chirpily. ‘Come on, let’s go on the merry-go-round.’
    ‘You’re not going on, are you?’
    ‘Course I am.’
    ‘Are you trying to draw attention to yourself?’ I ask with amazement. He just shrugs. We set off in the direction of the fairground.
    ‘I can’t believe you said your name was John,’ I mutter under my breath.
    All too soon, Johnny is gone again. April turns into May, but this time we keep in touch by phone. Soon it’s Barney’s second birthday, and Johnny takes a break from recording his new album to pay us a visit. We have a small party for our son at home – my parents come over from France, and Susan, Tony and Bess join us as well. But Christian’s presence is what really makes my day. He missed Barney’s first birthday, and the fact that, one year on, we can all be here together – Johnny, too – and no longer be living a lie . . . I feel lighter than ever.
    But even though I want him to stay, Johnny goes back to LA to carry on with his recording.
    ‘How’s it all going?’ I ask him during one Skype session, when Barney has got bored with sitting in front of the computer and looking at his father’s face, and has gone off to play with his toys.
    ‘Pretty well, I think,’ Johnny admits, leaning back in his chair.
    ‘Have you got all your songs ready to go?’ I ask.
    ‘I’ve written them all, yes,’ he says. ‘A few about Barney in there.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘A few about you, too,’ he adds.
    ‘No!’ I can’t help smiling even though I feel shy. Then it’s back to reality with a bump. ‘And Dana?’ I try to sound offhanded, but fail.
    ‘Yeah, she’s in a couple,’ he says and my heart sinks. ‘Not very flattering, mind.’
    ‘Oh, good,’ I say, perking up.
    He chuckles and leans in, putting his elbows on the desktop. I sit back in my seat. This may be only a virtual chat and he may be five and a half thousand miles away, but I still need my personal space.
    ‘I was thinking about coming over at the end of June, beginning of July,’ he says.
    ‘Really?’
    ‘I want to go to the Goodwood Festival of Speed,’ he explains.
    ‘What’s that?’
    ‘A motor-racing event. I’ve been asked to display my new Bugatti and to drive.’
    ‘I didn’t know you had a new one.’
    ‘It’s being flown in from France in time for the event. It’s a convertible.’
    ‘Nice.’ He always did fancy himself as a bit of a racing driver.
    ‘Anyway, I wondered if you and Barney might fancy coming with me. He’d like the cars,’ he says.
    ‘Oh, right, yes! Of course,’ I say. ‘It sounds pretty high-profile, though, doesn’t it?’
    ‘If you’re worried about blowing your cover,’ he says, staring at me through the computer with his penetrating eyes, ‘then yes, it will probably do that.’
    ‘Oh, right.’
    ‘But maybe it’s time?’ he says with a shrug.
    ‘Maybe.’ I look down at the keyboard and then back up at him. He’s still staring at me. ‘I’ll think about it.’
    Christian calls the next day to arrange a visit and I ask him what he thinks.
    ‘Go,’ he says straight away.
    ‘Really?’
    ‘You can’t hide out forever,’ he says. ‘It’s about time. Dana’s off the scene, so you shouldn’t get the level of press disruption you got last time. It’s your last hurdle and then you can get on with your life without living in fear the whole time.’
    ‘I’m hardly living in fear,’ I scoff.
    ‘It’s on your mind, though, isn’t it?’ he presses. ‘Being discovered.’
    ‘Well, yes.’
    I never did tell Liz about Johnny, and, incredibly, no one else paid him any attention while he was sitting