Quentin Quick was looking forward to the meeting of the Puddleminster Pens. Working their way through the alphabet they had reached the letter Q, his nickname. At his suggestion they did not pick a single word for this week, but searched for as many words beginning with Q as possible. Quentin had an ulterior motive, he was addicted to playing Words With Friends on his phone and Q was worth ten points, but hard to place. The group had discussed whether any English word could feature Q without a U. Words With Friends accepted QI, but Puddleminster Pens did not.

Quentin actually had a love hate relationship with Q as he could not escape it. As the fifth to be born and the only boy in a set of quins, life was always going to be challenging. His mother quipped that only sextuplets got serious publicity and quillions of quids. His querulous father Mr Quincy Quick queried if the quins were even his; after all, no quins had ever been born on his side of the family.

As they all grew, his hopes of having an amazing family, like that lot on television, were quashed. His favourite quote was ‘We landed quantity over quality.’ The junior Quicks were unlikely to turn into a musical quintet or quest for fame of any sort. Rather than musical harmony or team sport the quins would constantly quibble.

As Quentin scribbled, wondering if his piece would be an autobiography, he was in a quandary. Should it be entertaining or an honest account of their lives… Five Alive, what was that film called with the robot called Number Five? His parents had splashed out on a rare trip to the cinema and bought them popcorn, well one large tub to share… His mind was wandering, but he could not resist looking it up. Short Circuit, that led to his sisters and friends calling him Number Five for a good while and asking him if he had been struck by lightning.

The family had attracted quite a bit of attention in the cinema foyer. Looking back, he realised his mother’s obsession with the Sound of Music had not only led to her praying for a large family, but had influenced her dressmaking. She was an excellent seamstress and without her skills it would have been a hardship buying all their clothes, but it was an understatement to say the children all looked rather quaint. She did try to make their only son look different from his sisters, but young Quentin begged to also have a frilly dress. Mrs Quick had to warn her husband to be politically correct and let Quentin be himself.

‘I have one son and he turns out to be q…’

‘Quincy… try to be more sensitive, what if he grows up artistic and writes a tv series about us?’

But Quincy found it hard dealing with five adolescents. Queenie did her brother’s make up for him, while Quintessa announced she was trying out for the junior women’s football team and Quilla was the only one who took school work seriously as she wanted to do quantum physics.

Quentin sighed. Quilla was now well known in scientific fields, but the rest of the family had remained unknown and poor. Quentin still liked dressing up, but did not have the personality or bone structure to become a class drag act. So the only thing left to do was try and write a book. Hence his joining the Puddleminster Pens.

Thursday arrived and the group seemed to enjoy his ramblings and tentative scribbles, encouraging him to keep writing, get it all down on paper, then polish it. Only Captain Pedantic, as they called him, had a quibble.

‘There is no such word, no such number as Quillions.’