Baby Be Mine

afterwards hurt me so badly I thought I’d never recover. I shake my head and go back to my room, switching off the phone in Barney’s cot before he can say another word.

 
  Chapter 49  
    The next day it’s Saturday and Johnny is driving at the Festival of Speed. The event takes place in the grounds of Goodwood House, a stunning country mansion owned by the Earl and Countess of March, and it’s effectively one very large garden party, populated with racing royalty, celebrities and members of the general public.
    Johnny and I barely speak on the way there, aside from general forced chit-chat with Barney.
    He’s taking part in a demonstration drive at eleven o’clock, so he goes off to get changed into his racing gear while I wander around the grounds with Barney. My mind is never far from our conversation last night, but it’s easy to get distracted by the sights. We stare with gaping mouths at the incredible soaring car-sculpture outside Goodwood House and then we go to check out Johnny’s new Bugatti Veyron convertible, which is on display in the supercar compound nearby.
    A crowd has already gathered around it, and even though I’ve been in this situation a thousand times, it still freaks me out hearing people talk about ‘Johnny Jefferson’.
    ‘This one Daddy’s?’ Barney points happily.
    ‘Yes!’ I whisper, stifling a giggle.
    ‘You know Johnny Jefferson is here this weekend,’ one man enthuses to his wife.
    ‘Isn’t he doing the hill-climb at eleven o’clock?’ she asks with a frown as she consults the programme. The hill-climb is the demonstration run of all the classic, historic and new high-powered sports and racing cars they have here this weekend.
    ‘Eleven o’clock?’ the man gasps. ‘Quick, we’re going to miss it!’ They rush away.
    I realise that we’d better get a move on, too.
    We’ve got special VIP enamel badges that allow us into the house so I decide to go to the balcony to have a glass of champagne and watch the action from there. I pause for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, wondering how I’m going to carry up the buggy, but a good-looking young man in racing overalls jogs down them and offers to give me a hand.
    ‘Thank you so much,’ I say when we reach the top, me huffing and puffing, him barely out of breath.
    ‘No problem,’ he replies in a foreign accent, before flashing me a pearly white grin and heading back down the stairs. I stare after him curiously, wondering who he is, because he looked kind of familiar with his olive skin and dark curly hair, but I’ve never really been a motorsport fan so I haven’t got the foggiest. Johnny was right about Barney, however: he loves the racing. I’ve never heard him say ‘car’ and ‘brum brum’ so much in my life. We watch on a big screen situated down on the grass below as a camera crew films Johnny getting into the second car he had flown over, a Ferrari 599 GTO. He looks pretty cool in his racing helmet and overalls, and despite everything I can’t help but feel proud, even if all we get to see is a blurry red car shooting past at one point.
    ‘Daddy!’ Barney says when the cameras film Johnny climbing out of the car in the pits afterwards. A couple of people turn to look at us and I shift on my feet and manage an embarrassed smile.
    This could be my life . . .
    Could it? Could things ever work out between Johnny and me? Could we be a family? A tiny ray of hope sparks life into my insides.
    At that moment, my gaze falls on a beautiful brunette standing behind a group of strangers. She’s staring straight at me, I realise with surprise, but then she ducks back into the house and I’m left feeling lost and confused. I know her. Then it hits me: Paola. Johnny’s PA before me.
    He had an affair with her, too. She was a nice girl, Christian once told me, and he treated her like dirt, just like he did me.
    He’ll never change. It’s not in his blood – just look at his old man.
    ‘Come on, Nutmeg,’ Johnny chides on the drive back to Goodwood later that night. We’ve been to the hotel to get changed because we’ve been invited to a ball at seven p.m. at the house. There will be dinner, dancing, fireworks and even a rock concert. Of all the musicians and rock bands in the world, Contour Lines happen to be playing tonight. It’s just as well Christian has finished his book, otherwise his poor girlfriend might’ve had to forgo her holiday to Tuscany.
    Barney has been left with a