Baby Be Mine

Christian’s friend let us in on the secret when we first moved here.
    We pull into the car park. Christian hired a car to bring him from the airport and he got upgraded to an Alfa Romeo 159 Sportwagon, which is the next size up from the Alfa that he currently owns. He has to return it in two days when he flies out to join the band at the next concert, but he’s really pleased to be getting an extended test drive because he’s been thinking about getting us a bigger car. His delight is just another nail in my coffin: there won’t be any need for a bigger car now.
    The air-con has barely had a chance to kick in, but the heat when I open the car door makes it hard to breathe. The lake shimmers behind the trees as Christian leads the way across a small stream via stepping stones. Barney is in his arms.
    We normally approach the lake via a wider stream and a grassy bank, but now we reach a concrete platform that looks down at the lake below us, deep and green and crystal clear. There are some teenagers dive-bombing into the water nearby. There are no steps here and it’s a drop of about six feet. I don’t think I’d fancy it even if I didn’t have Barney to think about. Christian looks at me with a cheeky grin on his face.
    ‘Can I?’
    ‘Can you what?’
    ‘Can I jump in and meet you over there?’ He indicates the bank in the distance.
    I smile at him. ‘Of course you can.’
    He hands me Barney and the two of us stand and watch as ‘Daddy’ takes a running jump and dive-bombs into the water, creating quite a tidal wave. Christian rises to the surface, gasping at the cold temperature. It’s impossible not to laugh.
    ‘Whoa! That was amazing!’ He looks like a child on Christmas Day.
    It’s at times like these that I remember why I love him.
    My throat aches and my nose starts to itch. I turn away and head towards the wider stream, stepping extra carefully so I don’t drop my son.
    I remember why I love him . . . What a strange expression. Surely you always know why you love someone? Is it possible to forget? Sometimes in my darkest moments I wonder if I actually love Christian at all. That’s a terrible thing to say, but it’s true. I’m fond of him – very, very fond of him – and I like him immensely, but love?
    I loved Johnny. I loved him passionately. I just didn’t like him very much.
    I see Christian walking across the grass to meet us on the other side of the stream. The rocks are sharp underneath my feet, but I’m wearing flip-flops so it’s not too treacherous. I am struggling to carry Barney and our bags, though, so I’m glad Christian has come to help. He grins at me as he waits at the muddy exit to the stream. His dark hair is dripping wet and his broad torso sports quite an impressive tan. He’s looking better than he ever has, with happiness and contentment etched into his face.
    I do love him. Right now, right this second, I love him so much that my heart aches. Because I know I’m going to lose him.
    ‘Let me take that from you,’ he says, grappling for Barney and my beach bag. ‘You should do that next time,’ he adds. ‘It was so much fun.’
    ‘It looked it,’ I reply.
    ‘Let’s go up to the waterfall,’ he suggests.
    ‘Okay.’
    I try to hold back my tears as I follow him across the grass to a tiny dirt track behind a dilapidated old stone building. The narrow pathway requires some concentration – there’s a hefty drop into the lake below – but eventually it widens and we reach some sandy-coloured rocks below a waterfall. Christian holds Barney while I lower myself into the water with a sharp intake of breath. The hotter I am, the colder the water feels, but I’m desperate to cool down. It must be forty degrees today. Christian hands me Barney and I dip him up and down. He gasps and wriggles in my grasp and I can’t help giggling.
    ‘How was Barcelona?’ Christian asks, sliding into the water beside me.
    ‘Good,’ I reply. ‘The hotel was stunning. Thank you again for that.’
    ‘You’re welcome.’ He smiles. ‘We’ll have to go back there sometime, just the two of us. Well, three of us . . . Maybe for your birthday in October.’
    ‘Mmm.’
    I can’t do this. I just can’t.
    ‘You alright?’ he asks.
    ‘Me? Yeah, I’m fine.’
    ‘You seem a bit . . . off.’
    ‘I don’t feel that well.’ At least that part’s the truth.
    ‘Coming down with something?’ He presses his hand to my forehead.
    I shrug and turn away, not wanting him