Page 38 of The 3am Shattered Mums' Club

‘Oh wow, they’re gorgeous. I love tulips. Thank you.’ Mel began busying herself by putting the flowers into water. ‘But you didn’t have to do that, and you certainly don’t need to apologise. We’ve all been there. And it’s been almost a year since you’ve been able to have a proper drink. I think you deserved it. Did you enjoy yourself?’ Mel said over her shoulder as she placed the vase, now full of purple tulips, on the windowsill that overlooked a huge garden. She turned back around just in time to see Aisha’s coy smile.

‘I did, actually. I didn’t think I would, but as soon as I got a drink inside me, I began to feel so much better.’

‘Alcohol will do that to you. And how do you feel today?’

‘Awful. I’m really struggling, actually.’ Aisha felt an overwhelming urge to spill everything out to Mel, to tell her about the man that she had hinted at previously, and how she felt a wrenching dull ache in her gut most days, and it only ever seemed to subside when she was with Mel and Sophy or last night when she was drunk. How could she explain all this to this woman, with her big perfect house who always seemed so happy and confident?

Mel sat down at the kitchen table and gestured for Aisha to join her.

‘Well, that’s okay, motherhood is really hard, especially the first year or so, and you have two, don’t forget.’

‘Oh don’t you worry, there’s not much chance of me forgetting that there are two of them!’ Aisha tried to layer some humour into her tone, but it was no good, and it came out as raw as it felt. Mel gave her a sympathetic smile and Aisha hated herself for feeling so weak.

‘And of course, I have a hangover.’ She laughed through her pain.

Mel nodded. ‘I know. But how are you feeling day to day?’ Mel asked and Aisha almost buckled. She couldn’t tell her, even though she was sure Mel would be understanding.

‘Is this because I got drunk last night and made a fool of myself?’ Aisha laughed a hollow laugh. ‘Did it look like I was losing it?’ she said, trying to keep the lightness in her voice.

Mel looked at her.

‘Shall I make us a coffee?’

Aisha looked over at the pram where the boys were still sleeping.

‘That would be great, actually.’

And so Aisha and Mel chatted, and Aisha spoke of everything except that each day was like wading through sludge. She told Mel she was tired and emotional, but she neglected the part where when the boys woke and cried, she felt panic rise through her. That whenever they were asleep, she felt a horrible hatred for herself when she closed her eyes to rest because she could be using that time for something more worthwhile like writing her business plan or looking for a small freehold that she would able to convince Charley it would be worth getting an extension on their mortgage or a business loan for. She wished she could just say it as it was, because she was sure it would just rush out of her like a waterfall, but she was worried that Mel would see her as a complete failure and a nutjob. She had already told the girls about the man she thought was out to get her and her babies, and then acting like a drunken teenager on their first night out together, she wouldn’t be surprised. Mel was thirteen years older than her; they were a whole generation apart. Aisha had never felt more a part of the snowflake generation, and although she was just three years younger than Sophy, she felt foolish and inexperienced around her as well. They both seemed so much more worldly than her.

When Aisha stopped talking, she went to lift her coffee to her mouth and realised it was cold. She put it straight back down again.

‘Wow, sorry. I can wax lyrical sometimes,’ she said, although she still felt the bubble of tension sitting fat and redundant in her throat.

‘Do you feel better for saying it, though?’ Mel asked.

Aisha thought for a moment. There was still so much left unsaid, but she didn’t feel armed with the right words to explain. It was just the hangover, she told herself.

‘Yes.’ Aisha gulped and then smiled weakly at Mel.

She saw Mel look at her uncertainly for a second. ‘Well, you know, the more you open up, the easier it becomes. And you have us now, Sophy and me, so don’t forget it.’

An hour later, Aisha thanked Mel for the coffee and began the walk back home. There was a light breeze in the air and the sky had clouded over a little since she had left her own house. She didn’t have a thick enough jacket on, and she was feeling the cold that little bit harder today. Aisha saw a bus stop and huddled inside the Perspex screen and waited for a bus to come along that would take her almost back to her house.

A woman sat next to her on the tiny slanted seats that weren’t quite seats and only allowed you to perch the smallest portion of your bottom on them, and smiled over at Aisha.

‘Can I take a look?’ she asked, and Aisha smiled and nodded. People were truly fascinated with little babies, and multiple babies always seemed to draw a crowd.

The tall, middle-aged woman stood up and peered into the prams.

‘Oh my, what adorable little things! Boys or girls?’

‘Both boys.’

‘I love how you dress them so jazzy. I would never have had the nerve to be so daring when mine were little. Mind you, there was not the choice then – it was all blue for boys and pink for girls.’

‘Do you… do you have twins?’ Aisha asked.

‘I do. Almost sixteen now. Both boys too.’ She stopped looking in the pram as the bus pulled up. She turned to Aisha before she got onto the bus. ‘Don’t worry, dear, you’ll get there. It gets easier.’

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