I didn’t feel very OK and I had a sudden flashback to Dr Spooner’s obsession with going deep. This was deep all right, and I was beginning to wish I’d ploughed on to chapter three for some more detailed directions.

‘Yeah, I’m OK, just a bit nervous, you know? Long time no see and all that.’ I tried to smile but didn’t quite pull it off.

‘Come on then.’ Dom gave me a gentle punch on the arm. ‘Look, I know it’ll be a bit awkward after so long, but family’s family, right? I’m sure she won’t bite.’

I hesitated, remembering with disturbing clarity that time Lou had bitten me. It’d been one of the very few times growing up that we’d fought physically. She’d only been about three and, even though we were each other’s biggest fans, as big brothers do, I’d also learned exactly how to push her buttons. She had a very slight lisp, which she eventually grew out of, but there was something about the way she said the word ‘soap’ that amused me no end. Just soap, don’t ask me why. Lou put up with my gentle teasing until the day she didn’t, when apparently me walking past the bathroom yelling out, Don’t forget that thope, thister, was the last thtraw. The streak of wet hair and pink fluffy towel ran me to ground before I made it to my bedroom, and she got a mouthful of my arm and just hung on. It was carnage.

After I’d finally been able to prise her off, Lou had vowed never to speak to me again, and me and my pulsating arm were fine with that. But that night she came in and stood beside my bed, giving me air kisses above two giant sticking plasters until I couldn’t not laugh, and so of course I forgave her. Because she was feisty and brave and knew how to take care of herself, and that bite had 100 per cent served me right. And because eight-year-old me loved my little sister more than my own arm.

But that was a million years ago, and as I climbed out of the car under the steady hand of my best friend (which it turned out I needed), I knew there wasn’t going to be an easy way to say hello when you’ve said goodbye as badly as Lou and me.

11

Danny

It’s a funny thing to be told you’re getting a sister when you’re already a fully formed five-year-old and life’s ticking along just fine, thanks very much. You can’t help wondering how it’s going to affect the good thing you’ve already got going on with your parents, and by the way, you’re expected to love the baby that’s on its way, no questions asked.

A breath of fresh air is what my mother called my sister when she alerted me to her imminent arrival. ‘Your baby sister’s going to be exactly what we all need, you’ll see, Danny. A breath of fresh air.’ Before that moment it hadn’t even crossed my mind that things weren’t already absolutely perfect in our lovely little family of three, so it was a day of surprises.