As the door closed I poured myself a glass of water in the kitchen and sat in my usual place on the sofa, pulled down my top and undid my bra strap, ready to smother my nipple in a thick coating of Lansinoh cream and brace myself for Albie’s hard little tugging mouth. I was grateful that Oscar had left a half-drunk glass of red wine on the coffee table, and I soon polished it off and poured another.

I took a deep breath and readied myself for the feed and the searing, hot pain – which I was prepared to go through because it was worth it for the little bundle in my arms. I pulled the breastfeeding cushion into place on my lap, lay Albie down on top and tried to focus between gritted teeth, flinching with the shooting pain as he suckled.

When Albie had settled and appeared to be drinking smoothly, I stared ahead and went over the conversation in my mind, fear beating a drum inside me.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Aisha

It was past midnight when Jason got home. I was sitting in bed having just given Joni her dream feed and she was fast asleep in the ‘Cocoonababy’ beside me. I had started to flick through the Gina Ford book Tara had given me, but was too tired to take anything in. The routines seemed baffling.

‘Hello, wife,’ he said, sinking onto the bed beside me. He hadn’t yet taken off his coat or shoes. His breath smelt of beer.

‘Hello, hammered husband,’ I said, noting a wild look in his eyes.

‘Not hammered, just missing my beautiful wife,’ he replied, running his hand down the side of my face and kicking his trainers off his feet. ‘I love you so much, you know,’ he said. ‘You and Joni, you’re my absolute world.’

I smiled. It was nice to hear he loved me, even though he was drunk.

‘I’d be lost without you, I love you so much,’ he continued, soppily. ‘You’re so beautiful.’ He brushed a strand of hair away from my face and tucked it tenderly behind my ear. He looked at me, doe-eyed. ‘My gorgeous, hot wife.’

I hadn’t heard him speak like this for ages, and I certainly didn’t feel particularly beautiful, let alone hot in my loose-fitting breastfeeding nightie. But it was quite sweet to be on the receiving end of such flattery. Jason had looked handsome in the pub this evening, as he bonded with the other guys. I was proud he was mine.

‘You’re really drunk,’ I said. ‘You’d have to be, to find this milking cow attractive.’

‘Maybe a little tipsy… I’m sorry it’s so late, but I enjoyed toasting our beautiful little bean’s head,’ he replied.

‘It’s not a bean any more,’ I reminded him, gesturing to the cocoon and its softly snoring contents. ‘That’s Joni. Did you stay at the pub?’

‘I went on to meet a couple of guys from work. They were at one of the bars on the high street, so I joined them for a bit.’