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Mum is pretty relaxed about most things and would probably quite like me to ever ask her about suitable clothes or to ever need to discuss curfews and so on, seeing as I never leave the house. I like the house. Why go out?
    So the subtext of this whole pile of boloney was: Mum’s awful. You’d hate her. Stay away. Keep Dean away too, while you’re at it. And don’t even think about getting keys and turning up in my bathroom.
    Aggie gave me another of her cryptic glances and then we plunged into the flesh-fest after Dolores, who was somehow still managing to cut a swathe through the crowd even though it was 99% female. I reckon the Divvies (Double Vision fans) just knew their leader when they saw her. She who would be crowned Queen of the Divvies. She who would marry King Jazzy the Divine and fulfil all their dreams for them …
    As long as we got to meet Jazzy. Remember him? My matey mate mate old buddy from school? Oh, and super mega-star lead singer of the biggest band in the country and possibly the world. All at once I remembered why we were actually at the Zed.
    And so did someone else.
    ‘I can’t believe we’re actually here, and we’re actually going to meet the Divine Jazzy D,’ squeaked Aggie, glowing happily as she held her programme above her head and shoved through the crowd beside Dolores. The two of them high-fived and squealed in unison.
    ‘Keep your voice down!’ I hissed. ‘You don’t want everyone knowing we’re going to meet Jason.’ I decided to use his real name to sound more, well, real. Like I really knew him. For the millionth time that day, I wondered if my letter had ever got to him.
    Aggie nodded quickly. ‘Sorry. You’re absolutely right. So are we meeting him before,’ she said, under cover of the double-page spread of Jason and his pectoral muscles which could frankly give Dolores a run for her money, ‘or after the show?’
    ‘After,’ I said quickly. ‘Definitely after.’
    As I wasn’t at all interested in hearing the “guys”, I’d already planned to spend the whole show tracking down Stephen Scowl or a door with stars on it, and finding out just where the “guys” would be after the event. Then I could be standing by with Dolores the Decoy, and Nerdy Ferdy/Freddie would be mine. I mean, Aggie could get to meet him and make her dreams come true …
    So that’s what I did, after we’d spent forty five minutes squashed into each other and everyone else while we waited for the main doors to open at 6.30pm, and then the next seventeen minutes climbing a million stairs like something out of Kung Fu Panda to find our seats, and then a total of fifty two minutes going back down them, finding the loos while Dolores re-did her lip-gloss, and then clambering back up them again. At 8pm the support band came on (can’t even remember their names, but felt very sorry for them as everyone just started doing Mexican waves and shouting “Double Vision” and “Jazz-eee, Jazz-eee, Jazz-eee” right over the top of all their songs), and then finally, FINALLY, at just after 9pm the lights all went dim and then flashed on again in a rainbow of laser beams, and the crowd went ballistic. Several small girls beside me started to cry. One of them was Dolores.
    ‘What are you crying for?’ I said, mystified.
    ‘I don’t know! I’m just so excited,’ she snivelled.
    ‘Well, please stop it. Your mascara’s running.’
    How was she going to land the dreamy Jazzy D with panda eyes? I handed her a tissue, checked that all the band were on stage and that both Aggie and Dolores were suitably entranced, and then hollered, ‘I’m just going to the loo.’
    I don’t think they even heard me; just stood t here clutching each other’s wrists while Dolores screamed like a fire engine siren for no apparent reason. Aggie put out her hand as if to offer to mind my bag for me, so she must have registered I was off somewhere, but I needed that bag so I clutched it to me and waved, then