Baby Be Mine

shorts.
    ‘Out.’
    I follow him back down the corridor. He snatches the car keys from the ledge.
    ‘Christian,’ I say, disappointed. ‘Can’t we talk about this?’
    He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t look at me, he just slams the door in my face as I stand there, holding my son.
    He doesn’t come home until eleven o’clock that night. I’m waiting for him on the sofa.
    ‘I thought you’d be asleep,’ he mutters.
    ‘I was waiting for you. I was worried.’
    ‘I’m back now. Go to bed,’ he commands.
    ‘I’m sorry, Christian. I know this must be hard for you.’
    He snorts. ‘You haven’t got a fucking clue,’ he says bitterly.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ I say again. I’m not even going to try to convince him I can imagine how he must feel. I get up and go to him. He glares at me as I put my hand on his arm, trying to get through to him.
    ‘I’ll do anything I can to make this easier,’ I say softly, but he shrugs me off, his chest moving up and down aggressively with every breath.
    ‘Go to bed,’ he says warningly.
    I close my eyes for a second and take a deep breath and then I look at him and nod. ‘Okay.’
    I stroke his arm one last time and find his bicep rigid with tension.
    ‘Goodnight,’ I say. He doesn’t answer.

 
  Chapter 15  
    How are we going to get through this? I don’t see how we can.
    Barney’s presence improves the atmosphere the following morning, but the pressure is bubbling away below the surface, threatening to burst through at any given time.
    We eat breakfast out on the terrace and look at the mountains cast in morning sunlight. There’s a slight haze across them today. It probably means it’s going to be hot again.
    I need to talk to Christian about Johnny, but I feel like my lips are glued together. Christian is saying nothing. I can hear him crunching on his cereal as he stares up at the view. He’s having cornflakes this morning, and not even the Crunchy Nut variety. He’s not giving in to his sweet tooth. I don’t know what this means, but it feels ominous.
    Barney is being unusually quiet in his highchair.
    I push away my barely touched toast. I don’t have an appetite.
    ‘So,’ Christian starts, and I can hear the sarcasm even in this one word. ‘What exciting things have you got planned today?’
    ‘Please . . .’ I give him an imploring look.
    He shovels in another spoonful of cornflakes and munches angrily.
    I try to speak soothingly. ‘I wondered if you might find it easier if we go out.’
    ‘“We”, as in you, me and Barney?’ he asks jollily and doesn’t wait for my answer. ‘No, I didn’t think so,’ he sneers.
    I bite my lip and stay silent for a while before continuing, ‘I don’t know what to do. I want to make this easier for you. I just don’t know how,’ I admit. He doesn’t answer. ‘Please, Christian, tell me what to do.’
    ‘How about, don’t fuck your boyfriend’s best friend? How about that? And if you absolutely must,’ he says acidly, ‘then have him use a fucking condom.’
    Barney starts to rap his spoon noisily on the bar of his highchair.
    I take him inside to play with his toys, without saying another word.
    It’s a good twenty minutes before Christian comes indoors. I’m sitting on the living room floor, building blocks with Barney. I look up at him. He seems defeated.
    ‘Go out today,’ he says flatly. ‘I don’t want to see him again anyway.’ He’s talking about Johnny, of course.
    I nod slowly. ‘Are you sure?’
    ‘Yes. But go soon before I change my mind.’
    I wait until I’m in the car before I call Johnny. ‘We’re on our way to you,’ I say. ‘Just me and Barney.’
    ‘Okay,’ he replies with surprise. ‘Do you know where I’m staying?’
    ‘Yes, Johnny,’ I say sardonically. ‘Your PA texted me the details two days ago. We’ll be there in an hour.’ I end the call and throw my phone into my bag. Now I can concentrate on driving.
    To be fair to him, he did tell me his time of arrival himself. But Lena sent me the rest.
    I suppose it’s best that she knows about me, even if she isn’t aware of all the details. I wonder if anyone else is. I wonder if he’s told the elusive Dana Reed.
    Johnny is staying in a chateau in the hills about forty-five minutes west of Perpignan. It takes me about an hour to get there on the mountain roads and by the time we arrive it’s eleven o’clock and Barney is fast asleep. I climb out of the car and look up at the beautiful