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father often complained about Karen and blamed her for his lot in life, but the fact of the matter was he was still in love with her and he didn’t take kindly to anyone slagging her off. Anyone other than him, that was.
    ‘She’s in Chorlton!’ Claire shouted loudly over Jo, kicking her to shut her up.
    Jason P. Longford looked at them for a moment weighing them up. ‘Please do not swear,’ he said witheringly.
    Jo began to sense her dad’s agitation. He didn’t like crowds and he didn’t like his routine being upset and yet here he was being thrown into a room with hundreds of people. She could feel that he was about to say something.
    ‘We don’t think she’s doing the right thing,’ Mick piped up.
    ‘Dad!’ Jo said through gritted teeth.
    ‘Do you want to go in?’ Jason asked, pointing at the audition room.
    Jo looked at the presenter. Why would he let them in there?
    ‘Yes, I think that’s a good idea,’ Claire said, speaking for the family. Jo couldn’t believe it. Jason opened the door and nodded them in. It all happened so quickly. The others fell into the room and Jo felt she had no option but to follow. And there they were, the famous judges all staring at them. Jo had a sudden flash of clarity and realised what they must look like: the Manchester Hillbillies. She’d seen it time and again on this show – the half-wit contestant who couldn’t sing for toffee being defended by their quarter-wit family members. Not that she thought Catherine was a halfwit but still … Catherine was also staring at them. Jo could tell from her sister’s face that she wasn’t appreciating the family’s show of unity.
    Sorry!
Jo mouthed.
    ‘Who have we here?’ Richard Forster asked.
    Jo was about to speak for her family, afraid that Claire would have such a gush fest she’d collapse in a heap on the floor, but her dad beat her to it.
    ‘We know your game,’ Mick said, waggling his finger at the music mogul.
    ‘Dad!’ Catherine hissed.
    ‘This is your dad?’ Richard asked neutrally. He didn’t have to say anything else, Mick was digging his own grave unaided.
    ‘Hey you, mouth.’ Mick said, as if he was taking on a hoody at the corner shop. ‘I don’t want you pulling her to pieces because she doesn’t look the part and hasn’t got a note in her head.’ Mick jutted his bristled chin out defiantly; something that he did when he was trying to look important. Jo thought it made him look like Uncle Albert from
Only Fools and Horses
.
    ‘Did you really just say that?’ Catherine asked, utterly exasperated.
    ‘Hi, Richard.’ Maria said, with a small girly wave, as if there was only her and Richard Forster in the room. Jo cracked out laughing.
    ‘“Hi, Richard”,’ Jo said, mimicking her sister. ‘What are you doing, you div? D’you think he’s going to ask you out because … well, I don’t know what … because you’re here?’
    ‘I’m just saying hello,’ Maria snapped.
    ‘Embarrassment,’ Jo said, shaking her head.
    ‘Has she sung yet?’ Claire asked someone wearing a head-microphone and holding a clipboard. Jo couldn’t believe that Claire was talking about Catherine as if she wasn’t there.
    ‘No, she hasn’t.’ Richard Forster said tersely. ‘And with you lot bleating on I’m quite sure she’s not going to want to. Could you all leave, please?’
    Jo and her sisters stared at the judge. He was serious. Jo glanced at Catherine, who was standing with eyes to the floor, her cheeks burning crimson. Oh God, Jo thought, we are officially the family from hell.
    ‘Fine, we know when we’re not wanted. Come on, Catherine,’ Mick said.
    ‘Not her. You lot,’ Richard Forster said with a dismissive flick of his hand.
    Jo grabbed her father by the shoulders and pushed him bodily out of the room. Claire and Maria looked dumbfounded, as if they thought that while they were there they might have been asked to do a turn. Jo thought that she had her father under control, but he