Jenny had just arrived home from her heart to heart with Brook. She felt decidedly more positive about her situation with Bobby and was pleased that Brook had something to smile about. She did feel sorry for her, after all she had had to struggle to keep Harry and Tanya in order since their parents death at a freak fairground accident on the waltzers.

Now at home and feeling relaxed Jenny poured herself a lemonade, made herself comfy on the sofa and flicked on the TV. Her favourite comedy series was about to start and tonight they were doing a sketch about Marie Lloyd. Jenny had been waiting for this one for weeks. As the credits started to roll what was intended to be a chilled out evenings relaxation was all of a sudden imposed on.

The front door banged loudly against the coat pegs with such a force that Jenny was almost certain the door had been parted from its hinges. A series of curses echoed in the hall and then a clearly riled figure stormed into the front room. All at once the calm atmosphere turned to electric. Jenny soberly took in the sight of the flame haired woman now eyeballing her.

With fists scrunched in frustration, a surly look clouding her features and her hair dishevelled Jenny’s sister did certainly not look pleased! If this had been a cartoon sketch smoke would have been coming from her ears. Samantha was 4 years older than Jenny and their temperaments were like chalk and cheese. Jenny had the placid nature of her father whereas Samatha had all her mothers traits. Apart from being a carbon copy to look, at except of course 20 or so years younger, Samantha George had most definately inherited her mothers fiery temper.

After a few seconds of intense silence Jenny, for want of something to say, inquired:

‘Alright chick?’

Samantha replied with a torrent of obscenities from which Jenny gathered her sister had had yet another disagreement with her boyfriend Allan. Sighing at the thought of missing Marie Lloyd J enny responded with a firm:

‘Sit down, calm down and I’ll grab you a cuppa coco’

Hastily shoving the kettle on to boil Jenny then picked up her mobile from the worktop and dialled her Ma at the Café.

‘Hello, The Wishing Well Cafe Mrs George speaking, how can I…..’

‘Mum it’s me!’

‘oh hello dear, everything alright?’

‘Well as a matter of a fact no. Sam is here’

‘oh…right what state is she in?’

‘Um’

‘Tears or storm?’

Mrs George knew that if her daughter had turned up at the family home then she had had a tiff with that unsatisfactory Alan Short again. The only reason she ever came home was if she were seeking sanctuary, as it were.

‘Storm at the moment’

‘Oh dear. I’ll get your father to cover here then. I won’t be a tick….tell her I’m on my way’

‘Ok Ma see you in a minute’

‘yes love, bye’

Jenny finished making the coco and hoped that Sam had soothed slightly in the last few minutes. On re-entering the lounge she immediately saw that this was not the case. Sam was pacing to and fro like a caged lion, and by the looks of things she could start roaring again anytime soon.

‘Coco here Sammie’ said Jenny as she set the mug down on a brightly coloured coaster.

‘Mum will be home soon’

Samantha gave Jenny a thanks-for-grassing-me-up-little-sister glare. So Jenny resumed her seat and turned up the volume on the TV in an attempt to catch some of her programme. Samantha’s loud musical ring tone then went off and she answered the phone in an even louder voice.

‘I can’t believe that you’re ringing me!’ she yelled as though the phone was 10 miles away from her rather than 10 millimetres.

‘How dare you’ she screeched in a spine tinglingly high pitched voice.

PAUSE = Alan was obviously trying to give an explanation.

‘I don’t believe you - you idiot!!’

PAUSE= He’d obviously said the wrong thing Jenny thought.

‘Well you should have told me earlier’

PAUSE = Or said it in the wrong way maybe? You could never tell with her sister.

‘That’s no excuse’

PAUSE

‘No, its not alright…’

Sam then embarked on another round of obscenities just as her flustered mother was coming in the door, which was still flung open. After ranting and raving down the phone some more and then flinging her phone across the room, where it smashed into a vase of flowers, Sam then burst into a tidal wave of hot tears. Mrs George desperately tried comforting her eldest child all the way through the rest of the Marie Lloyd sketch. Gradually extracting from Sam that Allan had arranged an evening out with his Dad and only told her at the last minute. Like that was a crime Jenny thought sarcastically. Mrs George then tried several times to reason with Sam about the absurdity of getting in such a state over something so menial, which caused Sam to protest hysterically that no one understood, and it was more to do with Alan’s attitude ect………… by which time Jenny, slinking upstairs to her bedroom, had heard enough. Or should I say heard it all before. She knew exactly what would happen next: Sam would spend at least one night back at home in a continual state of agitation whether it be miserable, inconsolable or spitting fire. Finally she would over the course of a day or two, depending on how well Alan grovelled and how well Sam manipulated, end up reigniting her relationship and everything would be perfect for a couple of weeks before they started arguing again.

As Jenny lay back on her bed and contemplated the swirly clouds her Da had painted on the ceiling, she knew that it wouldn’t be that way with her and Bobby because they were compatible. Even their star signs matched………….