Baby Be Mine

me? That you and this bastard have been having cosy little chats with each other behind my back?’
    ‘We haven’t been! He texted me earlier—’
    My sentence is cut short by Christian hurling my phone in a fury across the room. It narrowly misses my face, clonking against the wall and clattering to the floor. In despair I pick it up and discover that my phone has a crack straight across the screen.
    ‘You broke my phone!’ I wail, unable to keep my cool.
    ‘You’re lucky I didn’t break your nose.’
    I stare at him in shock and his face instantly mirrors mine.
    ‘I didn’t mean that,’ he says quickly. ‘Of course I didn’t mean that.’
    A cry from Barney’s room startles us both into action.
    ‘I’ll go,’ I say, leaving the room.
    It takes me a few minutes to settle him before I return with trepidation to the living room. Christian is staring straight ahead. He’s switched off the telly.
    ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Johnny contacting me,’ I say.
    ‘It’s alright,’ he brushes me off, and it’s clear he’s calmed down somewhat. ‘I know you would have done eventually,’ he concedes. ‘So tell me what he said.’
    ‘You read the messages?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘You know they weren’t “cosy little chats”, then.’
    He nods. ‘He called you – I saw your recent calls,’ he explains.
    ‘Yes. Once again, not cosy.’ I take a deep breath. ‘He wants to . . .’ I pause, and then it all comes out in a flurry of words. ‘He wants to meet Barney properly.’
    Christian’s jaw is set in a straight line. ‘How do you feel about that?’ he asks with some effort.
    ‘I don’t like it,’ I admit. ‘The last thing I want to do is to cause you any pain. Any more pain,’ I correct myself. ‘But I guess this isn’t just about you and me anymore.’
    He nods abruptly. ‘So be it. I want the best thing for Barney. He’s still my son.’
    ‘Of course he is,’ I say. ‘He always will be.’

 
  Chapter 14  
    ‘When are you going home again?’ I ask Christian two days later.
    ‘I don’t know. Dad’s still not ready to clear away Mum’s things.’
    ‘What about joining the band on tour?’
    ‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’ he asks drily.
    ‘No! Of course not.’ Do I sound guilty?
    ‘Have you called Johnny yet?’
    Yep, he’s onto me. ‘No.’ Don’t be a chicken. ‘But I should.’
    ‘Well, I’m not going away while all that’s going on. I want to be here.’
    I take a sip of my drink. We’re sitting out on the terrace and have just finished a dinner of pork cooked in cider. I’m trying to make it up to Christian through his stomach, but I’ve had no compliments for the chef.
    ‘I guess I’d better call him,’ I say.
    ‘I guess you’d better.’ He takes a gulp of his beer and plonks it down on the table, then he gets to his feet and starts to clear the table. I do the same, following him indoors to the kitchen.
    ‘You don’t want to ring him?’ I ask hesitantly. I’ve been wondering this for a few days now. Christian looks at me like I’m mad. ‘No?’ I double-check.
    ‘What do you think?’ he snaps.
    ‘I just thought . . . well, he’s your best friend.’
    ‘Was,’ he corrects me. ‘There’s no way in hell we’re getting past this one.’
    ‘But you’ve been through so much,’ I implore. ‘This whole situation would be easier—’
    ‘Meg,’ he cuts me off. ‘No.’
    I look down, disheartened. I could but hope. ‘I’ll call him, then.’
    ‘What, now?’
    ‘If that’s okay with you?’
    ‘Yep.’ He scrapes the remnants of his dinner into the bin. I walk away, treading carefully over the eggshells that will no doubt line my path for some time to come.
    I take my phone and go back out to the terrace, leaving the door open so Christian thinks I don’t mind him listening in, even though I do. I dial Johnny’s number. My hands begin to shake. He doesn’t answer and it goes straight through to voice-mail. I’m dithering about whether or not to leave a message when my phone beeps to let me know there’s another call coming in. I look at my handset to see that Johnny is calling me back.
    ‘Hello?’ I say.
    ‘What’s the plan?’ He cuts straight to the chase. ‘When am I going to meet the boy?’
    ‘His name is Barney,’ I say tersely. ‘How soon can you get here?’
    ‘Friday?’
    That’s two days away.
    ‘Okay,’ I say.
    ‘I’ll get Lena to contact you with the details,’ he