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support. They would thump you in the spine as you sat down in an armchair to watch TV, and in his car was a veritable treasure trove of back support cushions: he had rattan cool covers, lumbar-support and doughnut-pillow cushions, inflatable pads… If you wanted to know anything about backs, Dad was your man.
    ‘Here, give it to me,’ I said, and hauled the suitcase into the boot, much to Derek’s amusement. Meanwhile Dad was sitting in the driver’s seat, inflating his back pad for the journey home. I climbed in behind him.
    Home sweet home.

7
    I always liked the first five minutes of arriving into the house. The familiarity of my bedroom, the photos on the wall in the hall, the warmth of the kitchen… The brief period before I began to feel claustrophobic and edgy was the best part of coming back.
    As I began to unpack there was a knock on the door. I opened it and came face to face with Derek’s best friend and bandmate, Gonzo.
    ‘Any chance of some lovin’?’ he asked, grinning.
    ‘Zero,’ I said, ducking as he lunged.
    Gonzo had been trying to have sex with me since his considerable hormones had kicked in when he turned twelve. Fiona, at eight years older than him, was out of his league so he focused all his energies on me – with the mere four-year age gap. He had spent his teenage years skulking around the house behind me, even though I had slapped him, thumped him, kicked him, roared at him and once even resorted to hitting him over the head with a saucepan. He never stopped trying.
    Like Derek, Gonzo was an eternal optimist. Unlike Derek, he was only interested in the band because he thought it would attract girls and get him laid. So far it hadn’t been working very well – and I could tell, from his lunge, that he was badly in need of a shag. Hell would freeze over before I’d oblige. Apart from being my little brother’s friend, Gonzo was smaller than me, thinner than me and had some serious personal-hygiene issues.
    He sat down on my bed and picked up a bra. ‘Ooh,’ he said, holding it to his face.
    ‘Stop it, you pervert,’ I said, grabbing it back.
    ‘So, like, Derek tells me you’re home for good.’
    ‘No, just for a few months to help out.’
    ‘Cos Fiona has the big C.’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Great ass.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Oh, sorry, did I say that out loud? I was just admiring your derrière .’
    ‘Jesus, Gonzo, we were talking about Fiona being sick – can’t you stop thinking about sex for ten seconds?’
    ‘Not with that kind of perfection in my face.’
    I ignored him and carried on unpacking.
    ‘So I totally watch you all the time on your show.’
    ‘Do you think it’s good?’
    ‘I think you’re good. I like the short skirts – great pins should be shared with the world.’
    ‘Oh, God, Gonzo, how long has it been?’
    ‘Too long, dude.’
    ‘There must be some girl your age who’d take pity on you.’
    ‘That’s the problem. Girls my own age are too immature. I need an older woman.’
    ‘Well, you’re barking up the wrong tree here. It’s been fourteen years now. It’s time to look elsewhere.’
    ‘Perfection is worth the wait. Besides – you complete me.’
    ‘Get some original chat-up lines and stop quoting from movies. Everyone knows that line from Jerry Maguire . Tom Cruise is the only man who can get away with saying it.’
    ‘Are you getting any?’ Gonzo asked.
    ‘None of your business.’
    ‘Well, if you get lonely while you’re home, you know where to find me,’ he said, and winked as he stood up to leave.
    ‘Knickers, please,’ I said, holding out my hand for the red thong I’d seen him hide in his pocket.
    Derek arrived at the door as his friend handed it back. ‘Dude, she’s my sister.’
    ‘Sorry, dude, I’m in love,’ said Gonzo, and walked out of the room.
    Derek rolled his eyes. ‘Dad told me to tell you Fiona rang. She wants you to call over now.’
    ‘OK.’
    I was dreading seeing Fiona. I knew the minute I clapped eyes on