Page 50 of The 3am Shattered Mums' Club

‘That set was unbelievable. Not in all my life have I ever seen anyone perform like you did. You are seriously hot.’ He leant into the doorway as Mel stood on the other side. Mel had to admit, it felt nice to be adored. It was, after all, part of the reason she was in the entertainment industry; there was nothing quite like the adoration of a riled-up crowd craving more. Mel turned and leant casually against the other side of the door frame, their heads almost touching. It was rare for Mel to meet men who were the same size as her; at almost six foot, she often left men feeling threatened. Luckily, Daz was two inches taller than Mel, at exactly six foot one.

And there were those Mediterranean sea-blue eyes again.There are worse jobs to do, Mel thought to herself.

‘I say, you’re a very naughty boy sneaking back here. Have you seen the size of our bouncer?’

‘I’d say it was worth it, wouldn’t you?’ He shifted forward one inch. She could smell something clean on his skin, like a soap, then a tinge of a something, citrus, perhaps, with a musky undertone. As he spoke, she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

‘Well, you will probably be getting into a lot of trouble.’

‘Sounds interesting. Tell me more.’ His face moved an inch closer to hers.

Mel laughed and moved her head away from the door frame.

‘I would love to, but my friend is waiting for me at the bar.’

‘Ahh, that old chestnut. Would your friend not mind if you were missing for say, I don’t know, a few minutes?’

Mel laughed again. ‘A few minutes? Well, you know how to treat a girl well.’

Mel went to walk through the doorway, but he put his foot in the way and his hand against the other side of the frame.

Mel stopped and sighed. ‘I see, it’s like that, is it?’

‘I could give you hours, sweetheart, but there’s something, I dunno, pretty sexy about something happening right now, out here. Wouldn’t you say? And let’s be honest, with someone as hot as you, I’m not sure I could manage much longer the first time.’

Mel was done. She had enjoyed the sensation she got when she smiled at him at the bar, she found it entertaining that he had followed her backstage, but she was starting to feel chilly, and a real thirst had set in.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name?’ Mel said as she tried to look past him into the hallway. Why was it empty? Where was Danny? He was usually manning the entrance to the backstage to prevent situations just like the one Mel was finding herself in.

‘I didn’t give it to you.’ He smiled.

‘Okay, I’m going to need you to move now.’

Then his expression changed, a sort of darkness spread across his face. His eyes narrowed, and he stood up straight, slightly towering over her. Mel’s stomach dropped.

‘I’m sorry. You don’t get to parade around like that, getting our cocks twitching for nothing. Oh no, I don’t think so, darlin’.’

Mel half laughed and went to step forward again. ‘No, sorry, mate, move—’

He cut her off as he grabbed her arm and shoved her back so hard that she took several hurried steps backwards and the back of her head hit the wall of the alleyway outside. For a moment, Mel was stunned, but then as she came to, she could see he was outside too, closing the fire exit behind him and stepping towards her.

23

AISHA

The boys were crying. They had been crying all night and all day. As soon as she settled one, the other would become unsettled. Charley had popped her head around the door frame – not fully daring to enter the room should she then be pulled into the war zone that Aisha found herself helpless in and therefore would be obliged to assist – but said mostly unhelpful things like: ‘Maybe they can sense you’re stressed?’ or ‘Have you tried walking them around in the pram?’

Aisha had thrown a screwed-up wet nappy at her, which missed Charley, hit the door frame and exploded, sending tiny little bits of the absorption pad everywhere.

‘When I need your expert advice, I’ll email you!’ Aisha shouted as she listened to Charley racing back down to the basement, where she could listen to her own noise at her own leisure.

‘Oh, bloody hell,’ Aisha said, looking at the exploded nappy on the floor.

There was nothing else for it. As much as Aisha wanted to walk upstairs and fall into bed, she would have to get the boys dressed – they were still in just their vests – and take them to the park. The fresh air might do her some good as well. She had been hoping for a nice quiet morning of them rolling around on their play mat whilst she watchedThis Morning. But that was not to be.

She packed and dressed the boys, checked the nappy bag and tucked them into their prams.

Once she was outside, she did feel the benefit of the fresh air and the boys’ cries stopped the minute the cool breeze hit their cheeks. It was the one and only thing that worked to get them to relax when they were feeling fractious. It was just that sometimes, just sometimes, she wanted to put a wash on and then sit on the sofa and watch TV without the babies becoming stressed. Charley was right, of course; her own anxiety was fuelling the babies’. She knew she would feel much better after the walk.

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