Baby Be Mine

stairs directly from here to the rooftop bar. Our suite is huge. The sofa bed has already been made up in one room, and next door is a giant super-king-sized bed with a large bathroom equipped with shower and bathtub. Excitement swells through me and I remember with a small smile that this is remarkably similar to how I felt when I first saw my bedroom in Johnny’s house. How young I seemed back then. How old and jaded I feel now. But not right now. Right now, I feel young and free and I can’t wait to see my best friend and have a proper girls’ weekend, even if we do have a male toddler in tow . . .
    I get us changed and lather us both with suncream and then we walk out of the room and push open the door to the outside stairs. The heat hits us again as we climb the wooden steps to the pool and Skybar. The first thing I see is the infinity pool, clear and blue and so inviting I feel like plonking Barney on a sunlounger and diving right in. We have a bird’s-eye view over Barcelona’s rooftops, and it’s a mishmash of beautiful old churches and haphazard rooftop terraces with television aerials and satellite dishes. Cranes spike upwards and penetrate the city’s skyline and the low murmur of building works creates a background noise that isn’t unpleasant. A flock of birds swirl around the hazy blue sky and planes fly to and from Barcelona airport.
    Hurry up, Bess!
    I carry Barney across the wooden deck and up a few more stairs to a raised platform under a white awning. Small pines line one side of the top deck and the bar is at the other side. I sit Barney on the black sofa seat beside me and give him a packet of rice cakes to keep him entertained. I’ll take him swimming in a minute, but for now I just want to soak up the atmosphere.
    Bikini-clad model types laze on sunloungers beside the pool. For a moment, I wonder if I’ll be able to pluck up the courage to go swimming in front of them, but one look at my gleeful son tells me that of course I will. I remember going to the Mondrian Hotel’s Skybar in LA – funny that the two bars have the same name. I never would have gone swimming there in front of all those beautiful people, but being a mother has made me feel strangely less self-conscious.
    Across the other side of the bar the lift doors open and Bess steps out.
    ‘MEG!’ she squeals, and several people turn to look at my friend. Her sumptuous curves are encased in an army-green tankini and her dark hair swings around her shoulders as she waves enthusiastically. I wave back and moments later I’m in her arms and she’s squeezing me half to death, both of us giggling our heads off.
    ‘This is amazing!’ she yells, not caring in the least that we’re causing a bit of a disturbance.
    ‘Isn’t it?’ I reply, as she turns to hug my slightly overawed son.
    ‘I brought you a prezzie!’ She reaches into her beach bag and pulls out a sticker book. ‘Does he like stickers?’ she asks me.
    ‘We’ll soon find out,’ I reply, smiling. ‘I cannot believe you used the lift! The stairs are only there!’
    ‘I know.’ She winks. ‘I wanted to make a grand entrance.’
    ‘That you certainly did.’
    ‘Where’s your drink?’ she asks, looking around with alarm.
    ‘I haven’t been to the bar yet.’
    She tuts.
    ‘We’ve only just arrived!’
    ‘Never mind,’ she brushes me off. ‘Bellinis?’
    ‘I’ll get them.’
    ‘No, I’ll get them,’ she insists. ‘Have you seen the barman?’
    I laugh and, like a whirlwind, she’s off again. My thoughts flicker towards Mandy and Christian and I’m momentarily swamped by grief. I’m going to have to make a real effort to conceal my emotions from Bess. I look over at her flirting with the sexy Spanish bartender and can’t help but smile again. It’s so good to see her.
    ‘Get this down ya,’ Bess says a little while later, handing me a champagne glass full of Prosecco mixed with peach juice. ‘Cheers!’
    ‘Happy birthday!’ I exclaim.
    ‘It’s tomorrow.’
    ‘I know.’ I grin at her as she turns to Barney.
    ‘I can’t believe how much you’ve grown!’ He looks distracted as he tears a yellow digger sticker in half. ‘Not quite getting the hang of those yet, then,’ she jokes. ‘His hair has gone blonder,’ she comments. ‘You look just like Mummy!’ she says to Barney. She studies my son’s face before glancing swiftly at me. My heart is in my throat for a moment, but Bess pinches Barney’s chubby cheek and takes a