Page 12 of The 3am Shattered Mums' Club

2.49 a.m. – Aisha:Yes, definitely! It was great to meet you both too. Hey, I guess Mel is having an easier time of it and is asleep!

2.50 a.m. – Sophy:Yep, I reckon Skylar is a champion sleeper!

2.50 a.m. – Aisha:Lucky Mel. Hey, Mel, hello when you wake up and read this message. We were thinking of you.

2.51 a.m. – Sophy:You get some sleep now, Aisha. I promise I will message some dates tomorrow. Night night. x

2.51 a.m. – Aisha:Great. Night night x

5.45 a.m. – Mel:What can I say, I have the dream second child.

8

AISHA

Aisha was almost home after a mammoth walk around the park and the high street. She didn’t think she had ever walked so far, and knew already that her legs would be aching the next day.

But the twins had loved it. Their little faces had lit up looking around at the sights and sounds. And, of course, Aisha would then find herself falling easily into conversations with complete strangers, as one did when they had tiny babies.

According to her phone, she had managed five kilometres, and the twins were now sound asleep. She was exhausted and was experiencing the odd heart palpitation, having barely eaten a thing all day. She had been up three times in the night feeding the twins, but it had been nice to speak with Sophy in those early hours. Just being able to reach out to someone at that time of the morning made a real difference. It suddenly felt as though there was a connection there. And that was the sort of thing she was looking for right now – what she was craving. That and a full English breakfast. She could almost taste it.

As Aisha rounded the corner onto her street, she stopped in her tracks. The man from the other day. The one who had walked up and down the road, over and over. He was there again. But this time, he was staring up at her house from the opposite side of the road. She was sure of it. She started walking again, and the man suddenly began moving away, his head bent down into his chest so she couldn’t see any of his features. Had he really just been staring up at her house, at her bedroom window? Or was she being paranoid? Perhaps he was a birdwatcher and had seen one on her roof? She stopped herself before she began to overthink it.

She wheeled the buggy through the front door and pushed it through to the end of the hallway. The postman would be here soon, and the clattering of the letter box would absolutely wake the twins up. She put the cooker extractor on for some white noise – and because she was about to fry eggs and bacon – then put the kettle on. She was absolutely gagging for a cuppa.

She looked at her phone again to check her achievement, thrilled to see almost nine thousand steps. She noticed a message on the 3 a.m. Shattered Mums’ Club WhatsApp group that Sophy had created. Aisha went into the message and saw Mel had joined in from her and Sophy’s chat last night.

11.36 a.m. – Mel:Hey, girls. Sorry I missed you both last night. Skylar had a really long sleep in the middle of the night. She’s got a bit of a temperature, and only woke for her 10 p.m. and 5 a.m. bottle. I know, I know, you hate me. It’s just luck, that’s all. I promise I have no secret tricks up my sleeve. I won’t be writing any baby-whispering books soon. Hope you’re both okay. Would love to meet up again soon. Sophy, you’re our admin! Will leave you to throw some dates at us. Ciao for now! M x

Aisha felt another wave of something that felt like joy. Was this sisterhood? It had been too long. Her own sisters were so busy with their own lives: one had moved to Brighton, the other to Bristol. Her cousins were still around, but where they had been close as kids, the gap had expanded over the last few years. Aisha suspected that they felt she was too middle class for them now the way they would tease her over her fancy wallpaper and Charley’s Audi.

She tried so hard to keep believing in who she was; and stay true to her Brixton roots but ever since she was a kid she had always felt as though a part of her was missing. She had spent the last twenty years trying to fill that gap with material possessions. She would use any pocket money from relatives to buy things for her bedroom, which she shared with her two sisters. Her side of the room had been filled with teddies, ornaments and posters on the wall. Her sisters cursed at the way her corner of their bedroom stood out from the rest of the room, but occasionally she would see one of them glancing over, their eyes would focus on a new trinket or bed cushion and she could tell they were envious of her ability to spend her money on things that could be seen and treasured and not wasted on sweets and chocolate.

Ever since she was old enough to get her first job at fourteen in a tea room, with the twenty-five pounds a week she made, she would go into town after work and buy herself new hair clips, stick-on nails, make-up from Superdrug and jeans and tops from Miss Selfridge. When she moved out of the Brixton house at twenty and rented her own flat around the corner, she filled it with furniture, plants, rugs – anything to stop her feeling as though there was something missing.

When she met Charley, her wage as restaurant manager combined with Charley’s salary – which was twice what she earned – meant there was always extra money for stuff. So now, as the bacon sizzled in the pan, Aisha found herself heading to her favourite online furniture store and browsing some coloured intricately designed tumblers. A set of six just shy of one hundred pounds. Because when she began to feel up to it, she would want to start entertaining again. And catering for friends and family was what she did best. Her fusion of British and Jamaican cooking was what she was famed for amongst those closest to her. Her dream was to have her own little restaurant one day, serving her signature dishes: her Jamaican take on the roast dinner: garlic and paprika potatoes, with cinnamon lime chicken and sticky ginger carrots. But at the moment, every time she dared think of it, the dream slipped further and further away. The boys were so young – it would be years before she could commit to something like that. It was such a great idea; she was sure someone would open a similar restaurant before she had the chance. She had often thought of buying the domain name now, so she had it ready. But Charley had encouraged her to wait: ‘Let the business grow organically – don’t force something to be born before it’s time.’ Charley had a point, but Aisha was mad at herself for how easily she settled down and got cosy, feeling so secure with Charley as the breadwinner when she should have been hustling and getting the business started. And then she got pregnant. But she tried not to think about to it too much, because the more she did, the more she felt the stress build. The boys were here, and they were so perfect. Why couldn’t she just live in the moment and feel it a bit more?

‘Your mum stopped by earlier.’

‘What?’ Aisha turned at Charley’s voice. She walked into the kitchen and grimaced at Aisha’s food frying in the pan. She was strictly ‘a bowl of bran flakes for breakfast and salad for lunch’ kind of girl; none of this randomly eating at 11.30 in the morning. Charley did not do brunch or afternoon tea. ‘Mum never pops round.’

She still had beef at Charley from yesterday, even though she was no longer sure why – she just knew she was mad, and she had to make her know it for a few more days.

‘Right. What did she want?’ Aisha said absently as she put a teabag into the mug and poured freshly boiled water over it.

‘Just that, she was just passing and thought she’d pop in.’

Charley had one of those doorbell app things on her phone for when she was down in the basement and couldn’t hear the front door.

‘Were you in the middle of recording?’ Aisha wondered if her mum messing up one of Charley’s jingles would make her feel better about whatever was still eating her up.

‘No, just an edit. I asked her in for a coffee…’

‘… But?’

‘She made her excuses. Said she had errands to run.’

Aisha pulled her mouth down. ‘Weird.’

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