Baby Be Mine

the planet, so he’s hardly lacking in self-confidence.
    ‘I don’t know yet,’ I reply, averting my gaze. ‘Have you ever been to Carcassonne?’ I ask.
    ‘No.’
    ‘It’s beautiful,’ I enthuse. ‘There’s a medieval village on top of a hill with views all around. Maybe we could go there for lunch.’
    ‘That’d be great.’
    I suddenly get a reality check. ‘Um, sorry, I’ll actually have to speak to Christian first.’ I was getting carried away. ‘Let’s talk in the morning.’
    Later, Johnny walks us out to the car. I put my nappy bag in the front passenger seat and turn around to see him trying to figure out the car seat. ‘I’ll do that.’ He watches over my shoulder as I buckle in my son. ‘These things are a nightmare.’ I shut the car door and turn around to face him. ‘I’m sorry for not telling you about him,’ I blurt out. His green eyes study mine for a moment, the smile gone from his lips. He nods abruptly and then pats the car roof with finality.
    ‘Let’s move on.’
    My nose starts to prickle. ‘Okay.’ I climb in the car. Johnny raps on the back window and motions for me to put it down.
    ‘Bye, Barney,’ he says cheerfully. ‘See you tomorrow, okay, buddy?’
    It’s only when we’re driving away that I hear a rattling sound and look back to see Barney playing with Johnny’s watch. I smile and shake my head, then make a mental note to hide it in my nappy bag before Christian sees it. It’s not worth enraging him anymore tonight.
    The house is empty when we arrive home. I call Christian to let him know we’re back, but the phone goes straight through to voicemail. Hopefully he’s just out of reception. I leave a message and then get on with Barney’s dinner.
    By the time Christian’s keys sound in the lock at ten o’clock that night, his shrivelled-up dinner in the oven looks almost as bad as I feel.
    ‘Christian?’ I call anxiously, getting to my feet. I’ve been sitting in the living room fearing the worst. ‘I was worried something had happened to you.’
    He walks into the living room wearily and stares at me.
    ‘I can’t do it,’ he says.
    ‘Can’t do what?’
    ‘I can’t do it.’
    ‘You can,’ I implore, a lump forming in my throat.
    He shakes his head. ‘I can’t, Meg. I wanted to. I wanted to do the right thing by Barney. But I don’t have the strength. He won’t remember me—’
    ‘No!’ I interrupt.
    ‘He won’t,’ he continues. ‘Not when he’s older. Kids adapt very quickly, especially at this age. It’s better that I walk away now before it all gets too confusing for him.’
    ‘But I don’t want you to leave!’ I wail. ‘Barney doesn’t want you to leave!’ I try to get through to him, but he sounds so resolute, like he’s thought about this for far too long. ‘Please forgive me,’ I beg. ‘Can’t you forgive me?’
    He looks at me and there’s sorrow in his eyes. For a split second I have hope, but when his answer comes, I know that he means it.
    ‘No.’
    My insides turn to stone.
    ‘I’m going to join the band on tour tomorrow,’ he continues flatly. ‘I can’t fuck up another book.’ His tone becomes bitter for a moment, before reverting to dull. ‘I’ll be away for a week. It will give you time to pack up.’
    ‘Please,’ I beg again, getting to my feet and going to his side. ‘I love you.’
    He meets my gaze and the warmth that I usually see in those dark-brown eyes is gone.
    ‘I don’t love you,’ he says. ‘Not anymore. And never, ever again.’

 
  Chapter 16  
    Christian leaves early the next morning to catch his flight. He has a taxi collect him at five forty-five a.m., before Barney is awake. I stand out on the cold stone doorstep and wave at the cab driver to let him know his passenger is on his way.
    Christian is in with Barney. He won’t wake him. He doesn’t want to say goodbye to his face. He thinks it’s better this way. Me, I’m not sure. But it’s not my choice; I just have to live with the consequences.
    The door opens and Christian comes out, looking crushed. He walks towards me with his head down, but before he reaches the door he breaks down. I try to go to him, but he puts his hand up to keep me away.
    ‘I’m sorry.’ I’ve said it so many times it should be engraved on my tombstone.
    He shakes his head and doesn’t meet my eyes. I go into the kitchen and get us both some tissues.
    ‘You could change your mind,’ I beg.
    ‘No.’ He’s steadfast.