It's a lovely summer Saturday. John had a rugby game this afternoon, and then Mum took him and a few of his mates to dinner. When she drops him off at home, no one else is there – Dad went out with the lads after John's game and Harry is at a party. John showers and flops in front of the telly, exhausted.
He's half asleep when Harry stumbles through the front door. John mumbles a greeting. Harry cocks an eyebrow at him. "Is that any way to speak to your older sister?"
John instinctively regains alertness. Harry's never used this tone, but it's hauntingly familiar. "Sorry?"
Harry strides over to John and stands between him and the telly. She slurs, "I know you're sorry, now apologize!" Despite herself, she giggles a bit, but then regains her composure. "You don't respect me!"
"What are you talking about? Of course I do!"
"You never respected me! Even when I stood up for you!" She leans forward and John can smell the liquor on her breath.
Harry is about to slap John when Dad walks in and breaks the two of them apart. As Dad gives Harry a blistering lecture, John sneaks off to his room. His greatest fear is that Harry will turn into Mum.