Baby Be Mine

checks her watch. It’s nine fifteen now.
    ‘Shall we take Barney for a walk around the grounds?’ I ask.
    ‘Sure. And I want you to tell me all about this sexy actor you met last week.’
    By the time we decide to go inside for a coffee, the smell of freshly baked something or other is wafting through the house. I lead the way expectantly into the kitchen.
    ‘Mmm, something smells good,’ I say as Eddie spins around to smile at us. He’s twenty-four, is about five foot ten or eleven and has short blond hair, blue eyes and a cheeky smile. I liked him immensely at the interview, and from the smell of whatever it is baking in the oven, I like him even more now.
    ‘You’re just in time,’ he says, grabbing an oven mitt and retrieving a tray full of muffins.
    ‘Wow,’ Bess says, her mouth falling open.
    ‘White chocolate and raspberry, dark chocolate and orange, banana and bran . . . Anything take your fancy?’ Eddie offers.
    ‘One of each, please,’ Bess jokes.
    ‘Sure,’ Eddie replies earnestly. ‘Who wants a coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate?’
    ‘A coffee would be great,’ I say, sinking down onto a chair at the table and sighing with delight. At last we’re going to eat well again!
    ‘I’ll go and ask Lena what she wants,’ Eddie says. ‘Do you think, er, Johnny will come down soon?’
    It strikes me that he’s nervous. He would be; he never met Johnny at the interview stage.
    ‘Probably not for a while,’ I tell him with a smile. ‘So you can relax and enjoy the fruits of your labour.’
    The five of us – Bess, Lena, Eddie, Barney and me – are sitting around the table having a good old chat when the front-door buzzer sounds. Lena goes to answer it. I come out of the kitchen to see Dana breaking away from Lena to go up the stairs. She ignores me.
    ‘Dana’s here,’ I turn around to tell Bess and Eddie as Lena rejoins us.
    ‘What does that mean?’ Bess asks.
    ‘You won’t be meeting Johnny anytime soon.’
    Both their faces fall, but they do well to cover up their disappointment. ‘In that case,’ Eddie says with a small smile, ‘I’d better get on with lunch.’
    Bess looks knackered so I suggest she has a bath and chills out for a bit because there’s no point in hanging around waiting for Johnny.
    ‘Come and get me if anything interesting happens,’ she says meaningfully.
    ‘I promise,’ I tell her.
    I put Barney down for his nap and go into the office to research babysitting agencies. I speak to a couple and arrange to meet this afternoon with the one I like the sound of most. I feel much more relaxed with the idea of leaving Barney so I can have the odd night out with Bess during the two weeks that she’s here.
    Lena puts a stack of press releases in front of me.
    ‘Events for the next couple of weeks,’ she says with a smile. ‘Take your pick.’
    ‘Aah, brilliant,’ I say, riffling through them. A fortieth-birthday party for some Hollywood scriptwriter – nope, feels a bit weird going to a birthday celebration for someone I don’t know. A premiere for an indie flick – not likely to be that star-packed. A showcase for an upcoming female pop star at the Mondrian’s Skybar. Okay, so the music is undoubtedly likely to be more my cup of tea than Bess’s, but the venue is fun – I’ve been there a few times for various things. I come to another invite – one that’s black and sparkly and shaped like a bat. I read the silvery, spider-web-style writing. A Halloween party being held by Sylvester Middleman, one of America’s top music producers. A quick search on Google reveals that he and his wife have four children aged between one and seven, so this should be good. I put it to one side, along with the showcase invite, and carry on looking.
    When Bess comes searching for me an hour and a half later, I’ve RSVP-ed to five events for the next couple of weeks, including a film premiere for a romcom, a gig with backstage passes and an after-show party for a band Bess absolutely loves. She’s beside herself.
    But that’s nothing compared to the look on her face when Johnny comes into the office a few minutes later.
    ‘Alright?’ he says to Bess, bending down and kissing her on the cheek. ‘Don’t get up.’
    She stays where she is, but her face turns bright red and I can see her hands are shaking.
    ‘How was your flight?’ he asks. He’s wearing a tight black T-shirt and black pants with his trademark metal-studded belt. He looks like he could have