Baby Be Mine

father?’
    ‘Don’t you DARE!’ he shouts at me. ‘I didn’t have a fucking choice, remember? You took that away from me!’
    I spin on my heels – well, flats – and head up the stairs. I’m not hearing this again.
    ‘Where are you going?’ he shouts after me.
    ‘Away from you,’ I reply.
    ‘I mean what I said!’ he continues.
    ‘Yeah, yeah.’
    ‘AND I WANT HIM TO CALL ME DADDY!’ he blares.
    I turn around and stare at him, then I can’t help it: I crack up laughing.
    ‘What?’ he asks crossly, his face flushed with rage.
    ‘You!’ I can barely get the word out.
    ‘What?’ he asks again, really annoyed now.
    ‘You!’ I’m almost crying with laughter. ‘Shouting “DADDY” after me.’
    His face softens. I collapse on the stairs and laugh so hard I have to clutch at my chest.
    ‘Fuck you,’ he says, but his face breaks into a grin. He walks up the stairs and sits down next to me, resting his elbows on his knees. Eventually my laughs subside. I look across at him, but he’s staring down at his fingernails. I look at them, too, then my eyes travel up his hands to his wrist and his latest tattoo. It’s black and twirly. I don’t know what it means, if it even has any meaning. I bet it hurt, though, I think distractedly.
    I realise Johnny is now looking at me so I meet his eyes. My heart skips a beat. He’s too close. I force myself to speak, hopefully without shaking.
    ‘Okay, you can meet him.’
    Something changes in his expression, I’m not sure what. It should be relief, but I don’t think so.
    ‘Good,’ he replies. He rests his chin on his forefingers and stares straight ahead.
    In the kitchen, Barney starts to cry.
    ‘I’ll go,’ I say, getting to my feet and going to him. Lena is just cleaning up. He’s tired. ‘Thanks,’ I say to Lena. ‘I can take it from here. You should go home.’
    ‘Cool,’ she replies. ‘I just have to finish up a few things in the office.’
    I get Barney out of his high chair and carry him back through to the living room.
    I notice with surprise that Johnny is still where I left him. On impulse I carry Barney up the stairs and sit back down next to Johnny. Barney shifts his head to my other shoulder and stares straight at his father. Johnny smiles and ruffles his hair. Warmness seeps through me.
    At that point Dana appears at the bottom of the stairs. We both start with surprise and I’m instantly cold again.
    ‘Meg,’ she says. ‘How do you get out the fucking car seat?’
    ‘Can you not swear?’ I say irritably, looking pointedly at Barney.
    ‘Yeah, yeah, apologies, Snow White. Car seat. I can’t pick up my friend because there’s a goddamn car seat in the front.’
    ‘Unbuckle it, then,’ I say.
    ‘What, unbuckle the seat belt?’
    ‘Yes.’ I look at her like she’s dim, because, quite frankly, she clearly is. ‘Unbuckle the seat belt,’ I say slowly, ‘remove it from the back of the car seat, and lift out the car seat. Hey presto.’
    ‘No need to be so fucking patronising about it,’ she snaps, storming out.
    I didn’t even know Lena had fitted a car seat into the Porsche Carrera GT. I remember finding out that Johnny bought the Carrera new a few years ago for almost half a million bucks. If I was going to use a car other than the Panamera, I wouldn’t risk borrowing that one. Dana clearly doesn’t have the same hang-ups.
    I glance at Johnny and raise my eyebrows disapprovingly.
    ‘Okay, okay, I’ll talk to her again,’ he says wearily, getting to his feet.
    ‘That would be helpful,’ I say primly, standing up myself. I follow Johnny up the stairs and suddenly, desperately, wish he’d come with me to bath Barney. My heart sinks as he turns left and goes into his music studio. I go right and head into Barney’s en suite.
    Bloody Dana, I think to myself as I turn on the taps in the huge bathtub. I don’t know why she couldn’t just take something else. There are enough cars in the garage to choose from. I don’t like the thought of her taking the Panamera, though. She wouldn’t, in any case. Not attention-grabbing enough. I bet the silly cow loves it when the paparazzi snap her in Johnny’s cars . . .
    Realisation hits me. Jesus! The paps could have snapped Barney and me in one of Johnny’s regular cars! They could have put two and two together and then our secret would have been out. Damn, that was close. I’m glad I realised in time. The Panamera is new. Nobody has linked it to Johnny because he