Page 65 of The 3am Shattered Mums' Club

‘I hope you like cottage pie – we went for something a bit neutral.’

‘Keeping it old school. Like it. Hope there’s some Angel Delight for afters!’ Jon let out a loud laugh and shunted his neck back and forth. He could take some getting used to, Aisha thought, what with some of his mannerisms being a bit out there. She wondered if she would have felt this way if she had known him all this time?

Aisha began walking to the kitchen and motioned for Jon to follow. Charley was already there, finishing setting the table.

‘Nice kitchen.’ Jon nodded his head again in approval as he looked around.

‘Well, this one Aisha can’t take credit for. It was already here when we moved in.’ Charley pulled out a chair and motioned for Jon to sit. Jon slid into the seat and laid his elbows on the table and rubbed his hands together. It was then Aisha realised he was nervous. He gave off this air of confidence and swagger, but he looked just like a little boy sat up at the table, and Aisha felt a pang in her heart.

‘Are the boys sleeping?’ Jon asked, rubbing at his neck – another sure sign that he was nervous.

‘Yes, they have a nap about five o’clock, and then we feed them and play with them and bathe them and then get them down about eight o’clock. We get a bit of the evening together then, don’t we, babes?’ Charley smiled.

‘Sounds like a lovely life. Lifted and laid,’ Jon said.

‘Well, quite. The life of a baby, hey?’ Charley continued, and Aisha was so glad that she was here and that they were doing this together. Charley had a real knack for keeping conversations going, whereas ever since Aisha had left the restaurant, she would sometimes forget how to make small talk.

‘We can enjoy our dinner in peace, and then you can have a cuddle with them,’ Aisha said. ‘If you want to that is?’

‘I would love to. Think I still have the knack after all these years,’ Jon said.

‘It’s like riding a bike, Jon,’ Charley said.

‘Yeah well, I fell off once, didn’t I? It’s taken me a while to get back in the saddle.’ Jon sounded despondent again.

‘But you’re here now.’ Charley put the cottage pie in the middle of the table and sat down opposite Jon. ‘And there is only now. No point looking backwards, is there, Aisha?’

Aisha slid into the seat next to Jon and shook her head. ‘No, no, not at all. We’re glad to have you.’

Charley dug the serving spoon into the pie and ladled a large portion onto Jon’s plate. It was fair to say he seemed like the sort of chap who would never turn down a decent plate of food and would probably be accepting second helpings as well.

Charley asked what everyone would like to drink, and Jon accepted a beer and Charley poured two glasses of red wine.

‘Well, cheers, everybody. It’s nice to have you—’ Charley was cut off by the sound of rapping at the front door. There was only one person who knocked like that.

Charley was the one to rise, and her chair scraped on the tiled kitchen floor as she did. ‘Well, I guess we’d better find out who that is.’

Aisha went to speak but didn’t say anything.

‘Classic timing, whoever it is!’ Jon said, taking his first mouthful of food. ‘Best not let it get cold,’ he said into his plate.

Aisha heard the distant, high-pitched sound of Charley greeting a familiar hello. She could hear the muffled sounds of two voices coming along the hallway, and then just before they arrived at the kitchen, Aisha recognised the voice of her mother.

‘Martina’s here,’ Charley said overenthusiastically and with an inane grin on her face. She looked at Aisha for some explanation or some sign as to what she should do next. Aisha felt a flutter of panic. This was not like Martina to just drop in at dinner time uninvited. But then Aisha cast her mind back to two days ago when she was at her mum’s Brixton house and she had mentioned that Jon was coming over on Wednesday night for dinner. Martina had seemed nonchalant at the information, but now Aisha realised that this ‘unplanned’ visit was anything but. Aisha wasn’t sure what her mother’s game was, but she wasn’t going to let her drive a wedge between her and her dad again. She had already lost twenty years.

‘Oh wow. Martina.’ Jon stood up as he almost choked on his dinner. ‘How are you, girl?’ He walked over to Martina and leant in for a kiss. Martina stood dead still, but turned her cheek ever so slightly to receive the kiss. As Jon stepped away, with his hands rubbing up and down his stubble, looking Martina up and down, Aisha glimpsed something sparkly about Martina’s face. Aisha inched forward to get a better look, and there it was, a smattering of light blue eye shadow across Martina’s lids. As Aisha continued to look at Martina, she noticed that her mum was wearing her good jeans and a rainbow retro-style T-shirt that looked like something she would have picked up from Camden Market.

Aisha quickly pieced it all together and then almost let out a gasp as it became clear to her. Had her mother come here to claim back her man?

* * *

Charley and Aisha stood in the kitchen doing the dishes. Every now and again, they would hear Martina let out a loud yelp of laughter, followed by the deep tone of Jon’s voice. Aisha silently washed the cottage-pie dish, adding some extra elbow grease whenever she heard her mother laughing, so when she came to washing the delicate wine glasses, she took with her the brute force she had used on the oven dish and cracked one clean in half.

‘Shit!’ Aisha said, and when she pulled her hand out of the washing-up bowl, blood was dripping down her index finger. It was the first word Aisha had said since Martina and Jon left the table after dinner, each holding a twin – who had woken halfway through dinner as if they didn’t wish to miss the reunion of their estranged grandparents –and had been camped out in the lounge with bottles and nappies. Aisha’s profanity rang out around the stark kitchen. Charley was at her side with a wad of kitchen roll.

‘Hold that on it.’ Charley moved over to a drawer where they kept everything that wasn’t crockery or cutlery, and most things got thrown in there when Aisha was on one of her mad tidying sprees. Charley was back at her side with a plaster. As she stuck it over the cut, she said quietly, ‘So, do you think we should go in yet?’

‘I don’t know,’ Aisha said, grumpily.

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