Baby Be Mine

you?’
    ‘No,’ Christian replies. ‘That was a bit weird. He left when I took you to the airport.’
    I swallow. ‘Did he?’
    ‘Yeah.’ He humphs. ‘I was only gone half an hour, I thought he’d at least hang around to say goodbye.’
    Oh, God. He knows. He knows.
    ‘How odd,’ I manage to say.
    ‘You know what he’s like.’
    ‘Mmm. Well, give your dad and Joel my love.’
    ‘I will do. You should get back on the road,’ he adds. ‘Call me tonight?’
    ‘Yes, will do.’
    ‘Love you.’
    ‘I love you, too.’
    ‘Bye.’
    I stare out through the front window.
    Johnny left suddenly because he knows Barney is his. I wonder if I can convince him he’s wrong.
    It occurs to me that Johnny might convince himself of that. He doesn’t want a child, for goodness’ sake. Why would he want to get involved when he’s so clearly not cut out for fatherhood? Surely he wouldn’t do that to Christian, either.
    I have a sudden compulsive urge to hurt myself, to punish myself for what I’ve done. I take a few deep breaths and try to think about my son laughing, and even though that image is – and probably always will be – tainted by the knowledge of this overbearing secret that is no longer a secret, it does calm me slightly. I put the car into drive, indicate and pull away from the kerb.
    Barney is with my parents on the terrace when I turn into the driveway. It looks like they’ve been outside under the shade of the umbrella waiting for me. Barney starts to squeak with excitement before I’ve even unbuckled my seat belt. The badness fades away and is replaced with an overwhelming sense of love and happiness. I run up the steps, not caring that my bare legs are brushing against the lavender with all its bees buzzing around. If I get stung, so what? I want to hold my son. My mum passes him over, laughing at our obvious delight to be with each other. I hug him tightly and then kiss his plump lips over and over again until he’s in hysterics. My face aches from smiling so much.
    Whatever happens, happens, I tell myself. But Barney is mine and always will be.

 
  Chapter 10  
    My parents leave the following day and Christian convinces me not to cancel the trip to Barcelona. I don’t tell Bess that I considered not going, because when I speak to her on Thursday night, she’s so excited about donning her brand-new swimming costume and leaping in the rooftop pool that I don’t want to dampen her enthusiasm.
    ‘What time does your flight come in?’ I ask her.
    ‘About midday, so I’ll see you at the hotel.’
    ‘I was wondering if I should swing by the airport to pick you up.’
    ‘Don’t be daft,’ she says. ‘I’ll jump in a cab. You check in and get the champers on ice for me. I can’t bloody wait!’
    Traumatic though the last week has been, it’s impossible for her enthusiasm not to rub off on me. Which is just as well, because I don’t want to ruin her birthday by being miserable.
    Barney and I set off the following morning in time for his nap. He falls asleep before we’ve even hit the next town. I plug my iPod into the stereo and try to relax as I navigate Christian’s black Alfa Romeo through the Pyrenees. Scraggly trees cling onto the rocky cliff faces and wildflowers pepper the sides of roads as crazy cyclists huff past us up the steep hills. We pass over glittering green rivers and through villages with old stone bell towers and the ever-present boulangeries, charcuteries and pharmacies. Wooden shutters on creamy houses are painted cornflower blue, and all the time the sun beats down from the cloudless sky. Just like Bess, I start to daydream about that rooftop pool.
    The journey takes only two hours so we arrive around noon. I park the car in the underground car park across from the hotel and lug our bags towards the lift while single-handedly pushing the buggy. I’m glad I packed light. It’s a skill I had to learn when I became a mother and realised I wasn’t built like an octopus. We emerge into daylight and find ourselves in a square. Directly opposite us is a beautiful cathedral. I stand under the shade of a tree and try to accustom myself to the stifling heat as I point out the ‘big church’ to Barney, but he’s more interested in the yellow flowers that have fallen like confetti onto the ground from the tree over our heads.
    The Grand Hotel Central lobby is dark, sensuous and blissfully cool. We check in and take the lift to the seventh floor. There are