‘Mum,’ they both exclaimed.
‘I’m in my thirties,’ said Bubblee.
‘You are still unmarried.’
‘This is why I’m going off to uni. At least there I’ll be treated like an adult,’ said Mae.
‘Only if you act like it,’ said Bubblee.
‘No one has to leave the room,’ said Farah, ‘because we’re no longer having this discussion.’
Their mum looked unimpressed. ‘You are just like your abba. He never talks about things either.’
‘Listen, I’ve been to the doctor again…’
Farah looked at everyone. Mae noticed her voice waver. ‘He started going on about IVF and surrogacy and God knows what, but I’ve gone for more tests. Perhaps something will be different this time.’
‘Oh, Faru,’ said Fatti. ‘Things might change.’
Farah smiled. ‘Well, let’s not get our hopes up.’
The evenness of her voice suggested to Mae that Farah’s hopes were already sky high.
‘Make your prayers and Allah knows best, but don’t worry about the results. The answer is so simple,’ said their mum. ‘Fatti, you have this child now and give the next one to Faru, just like your amma gave you to me. Finish story.’
‘Bloomin’ ’eck,’ said Mae. ‘Talk about pass the baby parcel.’
Farah paused. ‘Sorry, Amma, but there’s no way I’d put a baby through what you put Fatti through.’
Their mum looked at all of them, confused. ‘What did I put her through? I loved her more than any of you.’
Fatti’s face looked flushed as she stared at her hands.
‘Knew it,’ said Mae.
‘Of course you did, Amma,’ replied Fatti, taking her mum’s hand.
‘No,’ interrupted Farah. ‘No way.’
‘Fatti,’ said their mum, looking at her. ‘You will give her your next baby, won’t you?’
‘It’s not like she’s giving me her old winter coat, Amma,’ said Farah, glancing at Fatti.
There was silence. Everyone’s eyes rested on Fatti, whose gaze was still firmly on her beautiful hands. She looked up.
‘Anyway,’ said Farah. ‘Like Fatti said, the doctor might have some good news.’
More silence. Mae wasn’t keen on silences.
‘You girls think I am a bad mother,’ said their mum. She was looking around at all of them as if in accusation. ‘You have your what’s-happening group and talk about these things, I know.’
‘WhatsApp,’ corrected Mae.
‘Of course not,’ said Fatti, looking horrified.
Bubblee chose to carry on filling the bin bags.
‘I see you,’ continued their mum, looking at Mae, ‘always on the phone, messaging and laughing. When I ask who you are speaking to you say it is your sisters.’
Maybe Mum was having a late-life crisis? She looked around at all of them.
‘What do you talk about?’ she asked.
‘Nothing,’ replied Farah. ‘Just… stuff. Like sisters do.’
‘Yes, you are lucky,’ said their mum. ‘So many of you. Ask me. I am alone.’
More silence. It wasn’t like their mum to talk about feelings. Thank God Fatti was there, who insisted that she wasn’t alone.
‘But you don’t put me in your group,’ their mum replied.
Mae glanced at Bubblee from the corner of her eye. Bubblee looked at Farah.
‘Look,’ exclaimed Mae, lifting up a floral summer dress. ‘Remember when Fatti and Farah got me this to try and make me dress more like a lady.’
Mae needn’t have bothered to try and change the subject.
‘Jay’s amma!’ came their dad’s voice.
‘Your abba and me are going for a walk.’ Their mum sounded exasperated at the very thought as she got up. ‘I would rather stay here and sit with you, but…’ She sighed and looked at Farah. ‘Remember, as long as you are having the se–’
‘God, no, Amma,’ the girls exclaimed in unison.
Their mum got up, gave them all another look, and left the room.
‘What the hell just happened there?’ said Bubblee.
Farah and Mae shuddered. The sooner Mae got out of this house, the better it’d be for her brain and self-awareness. To be told to leave the room at the mention of sex! She looked at Bubblee.
‘Bubs,’ she said, laughing, ‘looks like you and me aren’t so different.’ She threw her cargo pants at her sister.
‘Do you think Mum’s okay?’ said Fatti.
‘She’s probably just having a bad day,’ said Bubblee. ‘Unless you want to add her to our WhatsApp group?’
‘Well, no, but…’
‘The problem with Mum,’ said Mae, ‘is that her youngest is leaving the nest and she doesn’t know what she’ll do without me. Obvs.’