If my mum and dad found out about my collection of porn in the shed, I knew they’d both kick-off and I’d be sleeping under a bench in the Underground, buying papers to keep me warm-instead of buying them like I was now, looking for a job. As it was, they were on at me to find something, and fast. I didn’t get why I had to figure it all out, what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. What was the rush?

My sister, Dawn, got to preen around the health club at her summer job. So why was I supposed to find something “responsible?” Dawn had been living at home since she finished school, aside from a couple of disastrous attempts at living with a roommate that my parents had ended up paying more for in the long run, anyway.

My parents made all sorts of exceptions for her. I had hoped that her laziness, or as my mother put it, her “lack of focus,” might pave the way for me to spend some time loafing off after I finished school, too, but no-apparently, Dawn got the welcome mat, but I got threatened with the boot. I didn’t get it.

I shut the back door and looked up at the sky. We didn’t get days like this in Surrey very often-so bright and blue and clear. We spent most of our time walking around in the usual London grey, looking at a hazy kind of film over the sun. Days like today made me remember being a kid, endless summers with no responsibilities, no cares, no worries. So much for that, I thought, flopping the paper down on the patio table and glaring at it.

I sat in one of the folding chairs and took a highlighter out of my pocket. The first thing I circled was a construction company. Maybe I could find something working outside-get a tan, build some muscle. That might lead to getting a girlfriend, I thought hopefully. That got me to thinking about Julie Entwistle, the girl rumoured to wear nothing under her skirts in sixth form. She sat right next to me in English, but I never did see anything-not that I didn’t try. For a girl who was supposed to be a slag, she sure kept her legs together a lot.