Baby Be Mine

of parenthood,’ Bess says smugly. ‘Now, help me decide what to wear.’
    ‘Come into my bedroom,’ I urge. ‘In fact, why don’t you sleep in there with me? We’ll put the travel cot in this room so we can chat and watch telly without waking Barney up.’
    ‘Alright, as long as you keep your hands to yourself,’ she warns. ‘I know your type.’
    I shake my head in amusement and we relocate her bags to the adjoining room.
    We used to live together and it’s lovely to be able to get ready for a night out, just like old times. Barney entertains himself with his new toy while I quickly unpack. Bess refuses to do so, even though the clothes in her suitcase already look like they’ve been in a jumble sale.
    ‘I’m only here for two days, you nutcase. You’re too bloody organised, that’s your problem.’
    ‘Yeah, yeah,’ I reply. ‘Right, what’s it going to be?’ I hold up my outfit options.
    ‘The jeans and sparkly top,’ she decides. ‘Save the black dress for my birthday tomorrow night.’
    ‘Good call.’
    It’s almost four o’clock in the afternoon by the time we leave the hotel, but the sun overhead is still beating down from above and there’s no shade even as we walk between the tall buildings of Plaça de la Cucurulla. Luckily there’s a slight breeze to take the edge off the heat and the shops are air-conditioned, so Bess uses that as an excuse to go into them and trawl through the merchandise.
    ‘Lots of shoe shops,’ she comments. ‘I’m right in my element.’
    Bess loves shoes.
    We wander down Las Ramblas. There are crowds of people gathered around a stall as we approach and I soon realise it’s a pet shop, right out in the open. Barney is beside himself, gleefully pointing out rabbits, hamsters, mice, birds, tortoises and even chipmunks.
    ‘That is so out of order,’ Bess complains. ‘Look at all those poor animals!’
    ‘They seem happy enough,’ I try to convince her. She drags me away, much to Barney’s dismay, but moments later we happen upon another pet stall.
    ‘This stretch is full of them!’ Bess exclaims. It’s true. One look ahead confirms this part of the city is animal mad.
    ‘You can’t get away from them,’ I say. ‘So let’s let Barney . . . Oh my God, that is the cutest hamster I’ve ever seen.’
    ‘Meg,’ she warns.
    ‘No, seriously. I think I have to buy it.’
    ‘Meg, no,’ Bess says firmly.
    ‘But I want it,’ I say like a small child.
    ‘You can’t have it,’ she replies like a mean old mummy. She gently eases me away, taking control of the buggy at the same time. My son continues to point at the critters like a little maniac.
    ‘Please,’ I beg. ‘Just one tiny little hamster?’
    ‘No,’ Bess tells me. ‘You’ve already got Barney.’
    I stop and stare at her, trying to keep a straight face. ‘Are you comparing my son to a rodent?’
    She tries to keep a straight face also. ‘You once told me Barney was the best pet you’d ever had.’
    Now I laugh out loud. ‘That was when he was a baby. He seemed a bit like an animal then.’
    She giggles. ‘Call yourself a mother.’
    ‘Obviously I was joking!’ I slap her arm.
    ‘Bin ladies!’ she screeches, as we turn to cross the busy road. I follow her gaze to see two blonde female refuse collectors, who are bloody gorgeous.
    ‘This city is bonkers,’ I say as we both stand there and watch them in awe.
    ‘I love it. Come on.’ She drags me away. We head down a side street as the city’s bells ring out to announce it’s five o’clock. I suggest we look for somewhere to eat before Barney gets overtired and after a while we happen across a pretty tapas restaurant called Bar Lobo. Herbs in terracotta pots adorn the wooden tables outside, and the metal chairs are painted in muted tones of green and grey.
    ‘Too hot,’ Bess complains, dragging me towards the door. ‘I know I’m a traitor to the Brit abroad. I should be sitting outside getting prawn crackered, but I need air-con,’ she says.
    ‘Prawn crackered?’ I laugh as I follow her.
    ‘Pink like a prawn and, you know, all crispy.’
    ‘Crispy prawn wonton? Prawn toast?’
    She grins over her shoulder at me. ‘Prawn crackered sounds better.’
    Inside there’s a big, open bar and kitchen and lots more seating. Dozens of oversized Chinese lanterns hang from the ceiling. It’s very trendy. We take a seat at a table and a waiter brings over some menus. We order a bottle of sparkling water to quench our