Baby Be Mine

Aah, my lovely room . . . The windows look out at the autumnal trees at the back of the house, but aside from the suitcases that Davey has put just inside the door, burnt orange is the only colour you can see because the rest of the room is white. I go to look in the en suite, just to remind myself of its beauty. Numerous halogens overhead light up the room to display an enormous spa bath at the back alongside a huge shower, and double basins to my right, all of which are formed out of dazzling white stone. Fluffy white towels adorn the towel rails. I sigh happily.
    Lena laughs. ‘Barney’s room?’
    ‘Go on, then,’ I say grudgingly, tearing myself away.
    Barney’s room is next door to mine. The walls have been wallpapered in subtle blue and yellow pinstripe. There’s a cot over by the far wall, and a green grass-like rug underfoot, plus a small table and chairs and enough toys to fill Hamleys spilling out of more of those strange golf-ball-type toy boxes on the floor. A white storage system of drawers, cupboards, wardrobes and shelves stocked with children’s books runs along the left-hand wall. There’s also a door which leads to an enormous en suite.
    ‘I’m sorry it’s a bit bare,’ Lena says and my eyes open wide in disbelief. She continues, oblivious, ‘I wanted to get some more things in, but Johnny said you’d want to do that. Which reminds me . . .’ She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a folded white envelope. She hands it over. ‘Johnny wants you to have this.’
    I open it up, curiously. There’s a credit card inside with my name on it.
    ‘No limit,’ she says with a grin.
    I meet her eyes, taken aback. I open my mouth to speak.
    ‘Don’t argue,’ she interrupts. ‘Johnny said that you would. But he owes you child maintenance, so, please, don’t think twice about using it for whatever you and Barney need.’ I close my mouth again, feeling distinctly like a goldfish. ‘You’ve also got a Porsche Panamera arriving tomorrow. Again, sorry I couldn’t get it here in time.’
    ‘Please tell me you’re joking.’
    ‘Can’t fit a car seat in the Bugatti,’ she replies flippantly. ‘Can’t fit them in the McLaren, Gullwing, Ferrari or Carrera, either – although,’ she thinks aloud, ‘it might fit in the front of some of them if it was just you and Barney going out. Maybe I’ll get another car seat just in case. You don’t want to be swapping them over all the time; that would drive you nuts.’
    I stare at her, gobsmacked. ‘I’m sorry, but are you actually a real person? You even know the names of his cars.’
    She laughs. ‘Katya is into mean machines.’
    ‘Katya?’
    ‘My girlfriend.’ She slaps her hand on her forehead. ‘I mean, wife. We got married as soon as it became legal – you know, before it became illegal again.’ She smiles wryly. ‘But I still can’t get my head around the term.’
    ‘Congratulations,’ I reply with a smile.
    ‘Thanks.’ She shrugs. ‘Shall we head back downstairs?’
    ‘Sure.’
    I follow her out of Barney’s room and back along the landing towards the stairs. Johnny’s room is at the far end and I remember that it’s massive, spanning from the front to the back of the house so he has trees at one end and a view of the city at the other. His music studio is next to his bedroom, and between that and Barney’s room are three more spare rooms.
    ‘So where do you stay?’ I ask curiously as we start to walk down the stairs.
    ‘Not here,’ she replies. ‘Katya would kill me.’
    ‘I bet she hates it when Johnny goes on tour?’ Where is he, by the way? I can’t see him outside.
    ‘She comes along.’ Lena flashes me a grin over her shoulder.
    ‘Really?’ I try to focus on our conversation. ‘What does she do?’
    ‘She’s a stylist.’
    ‘She works for Johnny?’
    ‘On tour, yes. She helps out. Very handy.’
    ‘I’d like to meet her sometime.’ We reach the living room and I look around distractedly. Where has he gone?
    ‘Oh, you will,’ Lena replies ominously. ‘She can’t wait to meet Barney. And she’s dying to meet you. The one that got away . . .’
    I blush and Lena laughs. ‘Seriously, I’m so glad you’re here,’ she says, and I return those feelings. To think I was worried about her. ‘It’ll be nice to have female company around the joint again. Since Rosa quit . . .’ She sighs.
    ‘That’s very sad.’
    ‘You’re telling me. Poor old girl.’
    I’d almost forgotten that