Baby Be Mine

that he’s not avoiding eye contact anymore, but I feel disconcerted instead.
    ‘She won’t trust anyone else with Barney,’ Christian explains, patting my knee.
    ‘Where is he at the moment?’ Johnny asks.
    ‘With Meg’s parents,’ Christian replies. ‘Toddlers and funerals don’t really mix.’
    ‘How old is he now?’ Johnny enquires, as though making polite conversation.
    ‘He’s just turned one.’ Thankfully, Christian answers again, because my entire body has gone rigid.
    ‘Oh, happy birthday for whenever,’ Johnny says, nonplussed. ‘I should have sent a card.’
    The sound of breaking glass comes from the kitchen, followed in quick succession by Joel cursing. Christian puts his arm out to hold me back. ‘I’ll go,’ he says. I grip his hand tightly – I don’t want to be left alone with the man who was once the love of my life – but Christian gently extricates himself, gets to his feet and leaves the room.
    I stay where I am, racked with tension. Johnny is the one to break the awkward silence.
    ‘Terrible about Mrs Pettersson,’ he says.
    ‘Awful.’ At last, something we agree on. Hang on . . . ‘Mrs Pettersson?’ I tease. ‘Didn’t you call her Mandy?’
    He shrugs. ‘No.’
    ‘What about Eugen?’
    ‘No. He’s always been Mr Pettersson to me.’
    ‘That’s hilarious.’
    ‘It’s not that funny.’
    ‘It is pretty funny.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘You’re thirty-three. I can’t believe you’re not on first-name terms.’
    ‘You remember how old I am.’ He raises one eyebrow.
    ‘Don’t read anything into it,’ I reply cuttingly, the smile gone from my face. ‘You’re the same age as my boyfriend.’
    We fall silent. Joel and Christian sound like they’re still cleaning up the glass in the kitchen.
    ‘Where’s your girlfriend?’ I ask drily.
    ‘At her parents’,’ he replies.
    ‘She hasn’t bothered going back to rehab, then?’
    He shakes his head and the corners of his lips turn down.
    ‘I don’t know why you bother, quite frankly,’ I comment.
    ‘Yeah, alright, Meg,’ he snaps. ‘I didn’t come here to get a lecture.’
    ‘Why did you come?’ The retort comes naturally, but I immediately feel stupid. He came because he’s known Christian’s family his entire life, of course. Johnny gives me a hard look and doesn’t dignify my question with an answer. I’m aghast to find myself blushing.
    Christian walks back into the room and slumps on the sofa next to me. I tuck my knees up underneath myself and cosy in closer to him. Johnny averts his gaze and pushes his hair back off his face. He yawns.
    ‘You must be jet-lagged,’ Christian says. ‘Where are you staying?’
    Johnny pats his pocket. ‘Don’t know. Some place in the city centre. Lena sorted it for me.’
    Lena? She must be his current PA and I’m guessing his accommodation details are on the phone in his pocket. I feel a prickle of jealousy. I wonder what she’s like, if she’s better at her job than me. If he’s attracted to her . . .
    ‘I should probably get a cab.’ Johnny drags me out of my internal monologue.
    ‘You can crash here, if you like,’ Christian says. ‘Sofa’s free.’ He grins, but I can see that he’s tired. ‘But of course I won’t be offended if you opt for five-star luxury instead.’
    Johnny smiles back at him. ‘Thanks for the offer.’
    Sarcasm?
    ‘When are you going back to Froggy Land?’ Johnny asks, his eyes flitting between Christian and me.
    Christian answers. ‘Meg’s flying home tomorrow, but I’m sticking around for a few more days. What about you? When are you going back to LA?’
    ‘Tomorrow afty,’ Johnny replies.
    ‘Private jet?’ Christian checks.
    ‘Yep.’
    ‘EasyJet.’ Christian winks and jabs his thumb my way.
    ‘It’s not easyJet, actually,’ I say of the low-budget airline.
    ‘Alright, darling, don’t be pedantic,’ he says good-naturedly. ‘So what shall we do, get some sheets out or order a cab?’
    Again Johnny’s eyes flit towards me. ‘I’ll stay,’ he says after a moment. ‘It’d be good to catch up properly tomorrow. If that’s alright.’
    ‘Of course it is,’ Christian replies.
    I stand up. ‘I’ll get the bedding together.’
    ‘Meg,’ Christian says, a touch infuriated. ‘I can do it.’
    ‘It’s fine,’ I reply, leaving the room. When I return downstairs, the kitchen is empty and it appears Joel has gone to bed.
    ‘Thanks for coming,’ I hear Christian say from the living