Page 5 of The 3am Shattered Mums' Club

‘And this is…?’ Sophy paused and looked at the mum of the twins.

‘I’m Aisha.’ The mum came forward and held her hand out meekly.

Mel and Sophy took turns shaking. It all felt incredibly formal. Sophy wasn’t sure why the handshaking had begun in the first place. She was a mum now. Didn’t mums hug and kiss?

Maybe not when they don’t know each other, Sophy thought. She was new to this game, after all.

‘Right, well now we all know each other’s names, and this Suzi has well and truly shafted us. I say we head to that café on the high street. I am gagging for a coffee.’ Mel looked at them wide-eyed and expectant.

Sophy jumped into action. ‘Right, yes, coffee, I’m up for that. Aisha?’

‘Will there be room for a double buggy?’ Aisha said uncertainly.

Mel pulled a face as if Aisha was clearly mad. ‘Don’t worry about that, love, we’llmakeroom.’

* * *

When they arrived at the coffee shop, Mel helped Aisha through with her twin pram and the three women assessed the space. There were a couple of mums already cosied in a corner with their babies bouncing on their knees, and a young couple sat by the window.

‘I say we claim that table.’ Mel pointed to a large sofa, coffee table and two chairs. ‘We can park the buggies round the corner.’

The three women began arranging themselves, nudging the coffee table to the edge of the window to make room for unbundling of coats and babies. Once they were all sat and settled, Sophy subtly eyed up the other two women. Mel was in good shape – very muscly, perhaps some sort of bodybuilder or gym instructor? Her initial thought was that she wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of her on a night out. Mel had stripped down to a loose grey vest top that exposed a bit of black lacy bra, habitat to an ample breast. Sophy thought the look slutty but stylish all at once. Mel had a tattoo on the top of one her arms and Sophy found herself drawn to the intricate design and Chinese writing that probably told a few tales about Mel.

Then Sophy watched as Aisha consciously removed her black raincoat and placed it carefully over the handles of the buggy. She was wearing a white plain V-neck long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans. Mel looked across at her and let out a gasp.

‘My god! Look at you! You pushed twins out a few weeks ago and you look like that? What’s the secret? Good genes?’ Mel laughed. ‘Get it? Good genes, good jeans!’

Aisha looked immediately uncomfortable and took a moment to adjust her top whilst the joke sunk in. She let out a meek smile.

‘I don’t think so – I feel flabby still. I am back in my old jeans, but I don’t feel like my old self.’

‘You won’t, love, not for a long time. But that’s okay, cos your babies only know this version of you. And they love you, and they will love any other version of you when you start feeling a bit like your old self,’ Mel said.

‘You sound as though you know what you’re talking about,’ Aisha said.

‘I have an eleven-year-old. Well, going on sixteen. I tell you, there’s no in-between bit any more. Girls go from being little girls to teenagers.’

‘Wow, you have an eleven-year-old?’ Sophy pulled off her oversized sweatshirt to show off a semi-back-to-normal waist underneath, a small part of her wishing to rival Mel’s muscly biceps and Aisha’s thin waist.

‘Yep, I had her when I was thirty-two. Never thought I’d want any more kids. But then never say never.’

Sophy’s tired, fuzzy brain did the simple sum, taking longer than she would have liked to have done, but then maths was never her strong subject in school. Come to think of it, she couldn’t recall feeling strong in any subjects at school. It was only when she did her Open University degree in business studies when she was twenty-five that she finally felt that she was in the right learning zone. Absorbing information on her own terms. However, the important thing she had managed to work out was that Mel was forty-three, ten years older than she was. Sophy was shocked because she felt she had waited too late to start having babies herself. Thirty-three felt old to her because Sophy herself had been born when her own mother was just nineteen. It meant her and her mum were fairly close and texted most days and chatted on the phone once a week. They hadn’t yet visited her since Max was born, but her father was a lot older and retired now due to ill health, and because her mother didn’t like driving on the motorways, she would have to get a train. And then recently, somehow, quite out of nowhere, Sophy’s mum had developed an acute fear of trains. ‘It’s all that tight, cramped space moving at such speed, love. No, I’ll have to wait to come and see you when your dad is feeling a bit better.’

Sophy knew she would have to be the one to get in the car and drive her and Max up to see her parents at the estate where they had bought their council house and still lived all these years later. She also knew she would be doing it on her own because although she had tried to on a number of occasions, she still hadn’t ever fully explained to Jeff exactly where it was her parents lived and she could not imagine Jeff sitting in her mother’s cramped sitting room with its late-eighties decor.

Max began making a few mewling sounds from his pram. Mel’s baby, who she thought was probably a girl from the pink turban around her head, was still fast asleep, and Sophy could see Aisha had begun fussing with the covers and zips again, even though both her babies were still.

Sophy pulled Max onto her lap, popped the studs on his onesie and pulled off his hat. His hair, which was unusual for a less-than-a-month old baby, stuck up to one side and his cheeks were glowing pink from the fresh air.

‘Why, hello, little bubbakin.’ Mel leant straight in, smiling and cooing at Max. A huge smile erupted over Sophy’s face. She knew Max was super cute. He had inherited Jeff’s ocean-blue eyes – the very thing that had attracted Sophy to Jeff the first time she saw him at an open house he was hosting. He hadn’t been shy coming forward and slipping his card into her hand and asking her to call him when she was ready for a second viewing. The next day, she met him and got her very own private viewing, which came with a lot more than pointing out the white goods and the location of the thermostat. Sophy didn’t take that house, which would have ended up as a share with two friends from the marketing firm she had been working at. Instead, she moved in with Jeff three weeks later. And hadn’t left since.

‘This is Max. He’s three weeks old. Actually, no, coming up for four weeks. It’s funny you don’t know whether to say weeks or days, or should I say a month… It all goes so fast…’ Sophy felt she was gabbling and trailed off.

She wasn’t sure if Mel – who was now squeezing Max’s toes gently – was listening any more. Then, whilst still looking at Max, Mel put one hand on Sophy’s leg and said, ‘You’ve nothing to worry about – you’re doing really well.’

Sophy was shocked to feel the hot sting of tears behind her eyes. The words that Mel had spoken were, of course, exactly what she had been deliberating over these last few weeks. Was she doing a good enough job? She had Jeff, and the house, and Jeff’s business and now little Max. She had so much to be thankful for. But it felt as though Mel had just plunged her hand straight inside her and pressed a release button on all her anxieties. But she wasn’t going to cry, not here, with these women she had just met.

‘Gosh, it’s hot in here, isn’t it?’ Sophy said quickly ‘It’s hormones though, isn’t it? I must be making a ton of them with the amount of milk this one has.’ Sophy felt the familiar tingle of her breasts as Max began his usual rooting.

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