Baby Be Mine

Eugen heads towards the living room.
    ‘Johnny’s asleep in there.’
    Eugen turns around with a start.
    ‘What?’ he asks.
    ‘Johnny’s asleep on the sofa,’ Christian explains.
    ‘Can’t he afford a bleedin’ hotel with all his money?’ he barks. It’s the perkiest I’ve seen him in days.
    ‘I’m awake!’ Johnny shouts groggily from behind closed doors.
    ‘Aah, he’s awake,’ Eugen says with satisfaction and goes through to the living room.
    ‘Couldn’t sleep with all that racket,’ we hear Johnny mutter for Eugen’s benefit and Christian and I glance at each other and smile.
    ‘I’d better make him one, too,’ Christian says as an aside to me. ‘Didn’t see him drink anything last night, did you?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Unless he raided the booze cabinet after we went to bed.’
    ‘I don’t think so.’ I try to keep my voice steady as I continue. ‘I came downstairs last night to get a glass of water and he was outside having a ciggie. We chatted for a while.’ I’ve got nothing to hide, I tell myself.
    ‘Did you?’ Christian looks interested. ‘What did you talk about?’
    ‘Not much. He told me Rosa had quit.’
    ‘Oh,’ he says. ‘That’s a shame.’
    ‘You didn’t know?’
    ‘No. Must’ve just happened.’
    ‘Morning.’ An exhausted-looking Johnny emerges at the doorway.
    ‘Hey,’ Christian says. ‘Heard you didn’t sleep too well?’
    Johnny glances at me in surprise, but quickly recovers. I don’t suppose he thought I’d tell Christian about our night-time chat. ‘No. How are you? Alright?’ He comes over to Christian and puts his hand on his shoulder. I worry the sympathy could have adverse effects, but Christian shrugs.
    ‘Pretty shit, but I’ll be alright.’ He laughs half-heartedly.
    Johnny gives him a sympathetic nod and pulls out a crumpled packet of cigarettes from his jeans pocket. He shakes out a fag and puts it between his lips.
    ‘I might just . . .’ He indicates the door with his thumb.
    ‘. . . pop outside for a cancer stick?’ Christian finishes his sentence.
    ‘You got that right,’ I snort.
    ‘Yeah, alright, Meg.’ Johnny pats my arm good-naturedly as he walks past. Christian smiles at me.
    ‘What?’ I say, when Johnny has gone.
    ‘See?’ he says. ‘I told you we could all be friends again.’
    ‘I don’t know about that,’ I mutter. But hope stirs inside me. I rarely admit it to myself, but I miss Johnny. I miss being a part of his life: his crazy, nutty, fast-paced life. I miss him.
    Er, Barney ?
    Reality hits and a feeling of fear – a feeling I know so well – grips my throat and stomach. I can never be a part of his life. I can never let him meet Barney. For a moment there, I forgot that I’d slept with him, that I’d fallen pregnant with his child. For a moment, I forgot that everything was so complicated.
    I turn away from Christian so he can’t see my face as all my positive feelings are crushed to death.
    I tell Christian I don’t want breakfast and go upstairs to pack my bags. I take my time. I have a shower and put on some make-up in the attempt to make myself feel half-decent again. I carefully pack my things and then tidy the room for Christian. I feel so sad for him. I wish I didn’t have to leave him alone.
    Everyone is in the living room when I return downstairs and I feel self-conscious and on edge.
    ‘Ready?’ Christian asks.
    ‘Yes,’ I reply.
    ‘Are your bags upstairs?’
    I nod.
    ‘I’ll go and get them.’ He leaves the room and I try to find somewhere to turn my attention. I look at Eugen and give him a small smile.
    ‘Have you got any pics of your boy?’ Johnny asks and my whole head starts to itch as though imaginary ants are crawling around under a thin layer of skin.
    ‘Er, no,’ I manage to respond.
    ‘Christian doesn’t either,’ he says, rolling his eyes.
    My relief is temporary.
    ‘I do!’ Eugen interrupts. I stare at him in horror as he reaches behind for one of the photo albums he’s been trawling through since we got here. Johnny takes the album and starts to flick through it.
    In what feels like the distant background I can hear Christian lugging my suitcase and carry-on bag down the stairs, but I’m frozen.
    ‘What’ve you got there?’ Christian asks perkily, going to join Johnny. ‘Aah, baby pics,’ he says, glancing over Johnny’s shoulder.
    ‘He’s a looker,’ Johnny says, grinning at his friend. ‘Got your hair, mate.’
    Oh, thank God. Barney is