Baby Be Mine (39 page)

‘I should go.’

‘Really?’ His voice is tinged with disappointment.

‘Barney,’ I explain. ‘I don’t want him to wake up without me.’

He nods and sits up himself. I look around for my cat costume.

‘I’m going to feel like a right tit going home in this,’ I say.

He laughs. ‘Do you want one of my shirts?’

‘No, you’re alright. At least it’s still dark.’

I smile at him and he raises one eyebrow at me sexily before pulling me back down again. We kiss, long and languidly.

‘Don’t, you’re making me feel drunk again,’ I say.

‘Without the hangover,’ he replies.

‘That’s true.’

More kissing. I pull away and stare down at him.

‘Did you use to have your eyebrow pierced?’ I ask. I can just make out two tiny holes there.

‘Yeah,’ he replies. ‘A long, long time ago.’

‘Can’t have been that long,’ I reply.

‘Feels like forever to me.’

‘Back when you had a West Country accent and wanted to know how to fight,’ I say with a smile, but his has faltered somehow.

He kisses me perfunctorily on the nose and goes to sit up again. Something has changed in him, but I don’t know what.

‘I’ll call you a cab.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll ring Davey.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. You’d better tell me your address, though. I wasn’t exactly paying attention in the car.’

He makes me tea while I wait for Davey. He lives in an apartment block with two other wannabe actors. It’s a bit of a tip.

‘Where are your flatmates?’ I ask him.

‘Out and about. Networking, probably,’ he replies.

‘You don’t seem to do much of that.’ I try to ignore his naked torso – he’s wearing black PJ bottoms and nothing else.

‘No.’ He grins. ‘Not as much as my agent would like me to. It’s not really my thing.’

‘Yet here you are, wanting to be an actor.’

‘I’m not that desperate.’

I smile and stare at him for a long moment.

‘You’re going to be huge one day.’

He raises one eyebrow at me. ‘Is that right, Mystic Meg?’

I crack up laughing. ‘Oh my God, do you remember her from the National Lottery?’

‘Yeah, I do. Did she ever predict the winner correctly?’

‘I have no idea.’

My phone buzzes. Davey is here.

‘Gotta go,’ I say and stand up. ‘Thanks for having me.’

‘It was my absolute pleasure,’ he replies with a cheeky twinkle in his eye. ‘Thanks for having me.’

I laugh. ‘Oh, that was a pleasure also.’ I place my hands on his beautiful chest one more time, just for luck and all that.

He kisses me softly on the lips.

‘You can go back to bed now,’ I say.

‘I’ll call you,’ he replies, but I recognise something in his eyes – a sadness. As I walk out through the door I wonder who it was that hurt him.

Soon my thoughts gravitate towards Johnny and Christian, and my earlier euphoria dissolves into dust.

  Chapter 40  

‘What the—’ I murmur out loud. ‘What’s going on?’ I ask Davey with alarm.

We’ve pulled through the gates to Johnny’s house and now I see that the whole driveway is lined with cars.

‘I think the boss is having a house party,’ he replies chirpily. ‘I thought you knew?’

The hell I did. I can hear the music pounding before I even climb out of the limo. It’s almost one o’clock in the morning. I hope Barney is alright.

‘Thanks, Davey.’

‘Will you be needing me again tonight?’ he asks.

‘No, no. Sorry I called you out again,’ I say apologetically. I should have rung for an ordinary taxi – I don’t know what I was thinking.

‘Of course, it’s no problem if you do,’ he says graciously.

‘I’m pretty sure we’ll be in for the night, now,’ I tell him unhappily, looking at the house. It’s practically vibrating with the noise. I must check on Barney.

I hurry to the front door and get there seconds before a group of Goths. No, hang on, they’re vampires. I recognise a couple of them from Sylvester Middleman’s Halloween party. What are they doing here? I hurry through the door and see Dana almost immediately, standing a few feet away with a couple of guys. One of them turns around and laughs while pointing at someone behind me.

‘Look what the cat dragged in!’ he shouts gleefully. I turn to see who he’s pointing at.

‘Fuck off, Derek,’ a vampire guy jokes, giving him the finger.

‘That’s fucking HILARIOUS!’ Dana screams, hooting loudly.
‘Look what the cat dragged in!
’ she repeats the joke, pointing at me and almost crying with laughter. Is she on something? It wasn’t that funny.

‘You’ve lost your ears,’ she says suddenly, looking at me with odd surprise. She wobbles slightly and one of her companions holds her up. I feel sick as I notice her pupils are dilated.

‘Where’s Johnny?’ I demand to know.

‘WHEEERRRREEEE’S JOHNNY?’ Derek shouts to much hilarity. They’re all off their faces. I turn and look around, wildly scanning the room for him. I see with disgust that a blond-haired knight in shining armour is snorting a line of coke off the coffee table, but Johnny is nowhere to be seen.

Barney.

I run up the stairs, bumping into you know who at the top.

‘JOHNNY!’ I shout.

‘
Nutmeg
!’ he cries with unbridled delight, trying to put his arms around me. I push him away.

‘Where’s Barney?’

His face falls. ‘I thought he was with you?’

I feel sick, horribly sick. I shove him out of the way and run to Barney’s bedroom, pushing down the handle. It doesn’t budge. I urgently knock at the door, dread filling every part of me. The door opens and a grave-faced Bess is standing there with Barney in her arms.

‘Oh, thank God,’ I say, hurrying inside and shutting the door behind me.

‘Mummy,’ Barney says sleepily, reaching out for me. I take him and cuddle him into me.

‘What’s going on?’ I ask Bess.

She shrugs. ‘I don’t know. They all appeared out of nowhere. Barney woke up with the noise so I came in to settle him, but he wasn’t going to go off again with that racket.’

‘No, of course not,’ I reply.

‘I locked the door so they wouldn’t come in.’ She shivers.

‘Why has he invited this lot back here?’

She doesn’t respond. Someone pounds on the door.

‘NUTMEG!’

‘It’s Johnny,’ I say. ‘Ignore him.’

But the pounding doesn’t stop. I hand Barney back to Bess and she takes him to the other side of the room, making shushing noises. I open the door a crack.

‘
What are you doing
?’ I screech in a loud whisper at Johnny.

‘Why didn’t you let me in?’ he demands to know, pushing the door wide open and sauntering in. He’s had way too much alcohol – and God knows what else.

‘I didn’t want you to disturb Barney!’ I exclaim.

‘Aah, Barney!’ he says happily.

‘Stop it!’ I shove him out of the room and follow after him. ‘Go away!’ I whisper angrily once we’re on the landing. A few revellers at the top of the stairs turn to look at us. I drag Johnny down the corridor.

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa,’ he says with a grin as I push him inside my bedroom. ‘Nutmeg, I didn’t think you cared.’

‘Fuck off, Johnny!’ I snap. ‘What the hell are you doing inviting all these people over? There’s someone snorting coke off the coffee table! Dana’s off her face – so are you – and YOUR SON is in the house!’ I’m practically screaming the last part.

‘Oh . . .’ Something dawns on him in the way that things do when you’ve drunk your own body weight in booze. ‘Sly broke his foot.’

‘What?’

‘Sly.’

‘Sylvester, yes?’

‘Broke his foot. Fell down the stairs. Party got called off.’

‘So you invited everyone here?’ I ask with disbelief.

He shrugs. ‘Dana did.’

‘That’s totally inappropriate!’ I cry.

‘No stopping her,’ he says cheerfully. ‘How long have you been back? I thought I saw you leaving with whatshisname.’

‘Joseph. I did leave with him. I’ve just got back now.’

‘Aah,’ he says knowingly, leaning up against the wall and folding his arms. ‘Good shag, was he?’

‘None of your bloody business,’ I reply hotly, wrenching open the door and shoving him out.

‘Don’t be cross with me, Nutmeg,’ he laments.

I slam the door in his face and wait a minute before hurrying back to Barney’s room.

It’s a long night. We decamp to my bedroom because the noise seems more manageable somehow and the bed is big enough for the three of us. Barney does eventually doze off, with me covering one ear with my hand, but he’s awake again and ready for breakfast well before the last person has left. Luckily I have a small kitchen in my room, so none of us has to venture outside yet. Bess didn’t have much sleep either, going by the bags under her eyes. As for me, I’ve still got all my make-up on and probably look like someone has punched me in the face. At least I managed to get out of my cat costume and into my PJs.

‘What a night,’ Bess murmurs.

‘What a nightmare, you mean,’ I reply.

She nods. ‘He really was wasted, wasn’t he?’

‘That was nothing. You should have seen him when we went on tour.’

She sighs and looks at me sadly.

‘What are you thinking?’ I ask after a while because the curiosity is killing me, even though I’m no longer a cat.

‘He really is a shit, isn’t he?’

‘Yep,’ I reply, deflated.

‘You know, I kind of thought . . . I don’t know.’

‘What?’ I press.

‘I thought there might have been a happy ending in it for you two—’

‘Fat chance,’ I interrupt angrily. Then I’m the one who’s sighing. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing here, Bess.’ She keeps staring at me sadly. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. What have I achieved? Nothing. I’m nothing.’

‘That’s not true,’ she butts in, nodding pointedly at Barney. ‘You’ve achieved more than me.’

I shake my head, hopelessly.

‘How was last night?’ she asks, changing the subject.

‘Good,’ I reply, and can’t help smirking.

‘Was he?’ she asks with a cheeky grin.

‘Was he what?’

‘Good?’

I giggle. ‘Just a bit.’

‘Are you going to see him again?’

‘I hope so!’

We doze off again after breakfast, but after a while I get up and get ready. I ask Bess to stay with Barney in my room while I go downstairs into the unknown. I wouldn’t like to say it’s worse than I imagined – because what I imagined was pretty damn horrendous – but it certainly comes close. It reeks of alcohol, smoke and vomit. I can see from my view up here on the landing that there’s broken glass in at least three different places, and I dread to think of the cocaine dust on the coffee table and God know what – and where – else. I can’t see any people so hopefully they’ve all gone home, although I haven’t been outside yet. And right now, I don’t intend to.

I return to my room and call Sandy, Johnny’s maid. She says she’ll organise a team of professional cleaners.

‘They’ve been here before; they know what they’re doing,’ she reveals.

‘Have they been here before?’ I ask. Johnny never had house parties like this when I worked for him.

‘Three times since March,’ she says pointedly.

That was when Johnny met Dana. Another non-fan of the girlfriend . . .

The cleaners arrive within the hour. We stay upstairs and out of sight, but my anger has been steadily brewing since last night – and especially since Sandy’s revelation. I’m trying to keep a lid on it, but finally I can stand it no longer.

‘Are you alright here?’ I ask Bess, who’s watching a DVD with Barney on the flatscreen in my bedroom.

‘Where are you going?’ she asks.

‘I have to speak to him.’

She nods, her face serious. ‘Take your time.’

I go to his bedroom door and knock loudly. No answer, as I expected. I pound harder and harder, until eventually I give up and try the door. It’s not locked.

The stench I smelled earlier – smoke, booze, vomit – has started to evaporate from the rest of the house, thanks to the cleaners and fresh air, but now it oozes out of the room. Dread replaces some of the anger as I suddenly wonder what I might find inside. I take each step with trepidation until I round the corner and the bed comes into view. Dana is lying naked on her back and sprawled across the bed diagonally. There’s a pool of vomit on the floor beside her, but she is breathing. I feel sickened at the sight; but as for Johnny, he’s nowhere to be seen. I try the en-suite door – it’s locked. I pound on the door and call his name, but there’s no answer.