Julius used every swear word he knew as he spasmed into the wall, knocked down his mother’s African Businesswoman of the Year award and collapsed to the floor with his leg twitching violently.

Orisa came rushing up from the kitchen.

‘Burglar,’ the woman shouted anxiously. ‘I thought I heard something while I was putting Taiwo’s washing away …’

‘Don’t,’ Orisa gasped, waving her arms frantically to stop a second zapping. ‘It’s Julius.’

Julius’s legs were jelly as he noticed Taiwo wheeling himself out for a look.

‘Why are you sneaking around?’ Orisa steamed. ‘When did you get back?’

‘Who the hell is she?’ Julius asked, furiously pointing at the spiky-haired woman and feeling queasy as blood oozed into his shorts.

‘My friend Delilah,’ Orisa explained. ‘She helps me with Taiwo. I can’t look after him twenty-four/seven.’

Taiwo was arriving in a powered chair. The mashed food had made Julius imagine some tortured golem, but he didn’t look that different – dressed in a tracksuit, with patterns shaved in his hair. The only sign Taiwo couldn’t get up and walk was a dead left hand and a droop at one side of his mouth.

‘What’s the queer doing here?’ Taiwo asked, slightly slurred.

‘Nice to see you too, bro,’ Julius said.

‘Go back to your TV,’ Delilah told Taiwo.

Julius had never met Delilah, but knew the name of the woman Orisa met up with on her day off. He’d spent his boyhood imagining lunches and shopping trips.

‘Why’s he here?’ Taiwo repeated sourly. ‘Nobody tells me what’s going on.’

As Delilah stewarded Taiwo back to his room, Julius shuffled so that his back was against the wall.

Orisa crouched and looked at the barb, which was still attached to the zapper by two fine lengths of conducting wire.

‘Taiwo’s still a dick,’ Julius said, shaking his head. ‘Your girlfriend’s cute though …’

Orisa soured, before realising Julius was on her side and cracking a slight smile. She snapped the fine wires, then inspected the oval of blood growing in Julius’s shorts.

‘Does it hurt?’ Orisa asked, wiggling the barb slightly.

Julius yowled. ‘It does when you do that.’

‘Such a baby,’ Orisa said, giving the barb a contemptuous tug.

‘Oww, oww, oww, oww!’

Julius imagined a geyser of blood, but it just stung as he undid the top button of his shorts and peeled them down to inspect a wound no bigger than a fly.

‘Lunch?’ Orisa asked as she handed Julius a tissue. ‘I assume you’ll survive the walk …’

Julius limped down with a dead leg and settled on the living room couch with a foot on the coffee table. Delilah came in with clean shorts from Julius’s room and a plaster for the wound.

‘Not my best introduction,’ Delilah apologised. ‘I have heard much about you.’

Orisa was coming through with a bowl of pepper soup on a tray.