Chapter 1

Meet the Parents

Even before Lucas reached the front door of his house, he could hear the noise.

Most of his mates already knew what to expect at number 35 Church Road, but today was different. Lucas had palled up with a new lad at school - and this was the first time Tom had been to Lucas’s house.

It was an ordinary suburban street, but these were most definitely not ordinary suburban parents.

“Oh for Goodness sake,” Lucas said as he put his key in the front door. The music inside was loud, very loud.

Tom’s best mate Louis was also with him.

“You’ll get used to ‘em,” Louis told Tom, nodding towards the downstairs lounge window. Tom hesitated on the doorstep, not knowing what to expect.

What was a loud, but muffled sound from outside the house turned into a massive wall of noise as the front door opened.

The lads had been playing footie at the local park.

And while it was usual for most parents to listen to music while the kids were out of the way for a while on a Saturday afternoon, the noise was not something that Tom’s mum would have listened to. She’d be playing some old Abba tunes, singing to them as she baked in the kitchen.

As the lads stepped into the house the vintage rock sounds of AC/DC’s ‘Whole Lotta Rosie’ escaped from the lounge and sliced along the hallway.

Tom looked momentarily alarmed.

“Take no notice,” Louis told him. “They’ll turn it down in a bit.”

The lads went into the kitchen.

Friends of Lucas quickly learned that when they went to his house, it was no good expecting a fat, homely mum to greet them nicely offering juice and cakes. So they all just got on with it - making toast and sitting at the pine kitchen table, just about able to make conversation above the guitar booming out of the speakers from the lounge next door.

Lead guitarist Angus, from AC/DC, ripped through his solo with ear-piercing style.

Suddenly, the wall of sound went up a notch further as Lucas’s dad threw open the kitchen door.

“Alright lads?” he said - and headbanged his way across the kitchen to light up a cigarette at the back door.

“Didn’t hear you come in. Who’s this then?” he asked, nodding towards the newcomer.

“It’s Tom dad,” Lucas said. “He’s new at school.”

“THIS is my dad,” Lucas told Tom - but in a warm way that told Tom although this was one barking mad father, there was a lot of affection there.

Another AC/DC track had started and from out of the lounge came the distinctive sound of ‘singing’, a woman bellowing out the lyrics at what Tom thought must have been the top of her voice.

“And THAT’S my mum,” Lucas added with eyes raised to the heavens and with an expression that showed a mixture of embarrassment and pride.

This admission of affection was relatively uncool for a 14-year-old, but Lucas secretly quite liked having unconventional parents. At least they didn’t commit the worst sin of all: they weren’t boring.

Mum Janine burst into the kitchen - arms aloft in mock rock stance. The chorus had just come round again.

‘Bam!’ went the drums.

“For those about to rock, we salute you!” she hollered - then plonked a kiss on Lucas’s cheek.

She was squeezed into tight light blue jeans and her long, died-blonde hair was flailing behind her as she pranced around the kitchen.

“Welcome to my world,” Lucas told the new boy.

“Who’s this then?” Janine asked.

“It’s Tom. He’s just moved up the road,” Lucas said, but he could barely make himself heard.

“’Ang on a sec’,” Janine said and disappeared into the lounge to turn the music down. It was still louder than Tom had ever experienced in his own house, but they all went into the lounge and were able to have a conversation of sorts - interspersed by Lucas’s parents dancing like 2 teenagers around the room, bellowing out the choruses with arms held high.

When Lucas’s dad Alex started ‘air guitaring’ that was a step too far.

Lucas reckoned the new boy had seen enough for now, so the lads all went upstairs to play computer games.

The distant booming of the bass continued from the floor below for another hour.

Black Sabbath, Metallica, Def Leppard, Bon Jovi and Iron Maiden reverberated up through the floorboards.

“I think they’re great,” Tom said at one point - and actually joined in singing the chorus of Livin’ on a Prayer, striking a rock pose with a can of deodorant for a microphone.

The boys all laughed. This was the first of many rock times they were destined to share.