Once every seat was occupied, Mum and Dad opened the show, as always, with an upbeat sixties medley peppered with jokes and dodgy dance moves. The next hour and a half was a combination of polished brilliance (one boy performed hilariously accurate impressions of the teachers), raw talent, and good old-fashioned enthusiasm. Jed and Mia sang, and their children performed a magic trick that everyone thought had gone disastrously wrong until Daisy popped out from behind the Christmas tree. However, when it came to the Charis House pupils, the skill level was irrelevant. Most of these children carried scars from the kind of battles the rest of us couldn’t even fathom. They’d been knocked down, beaten up, and kicked out more times than they could count. Yet here they were, giving it their all. It was impossible not to be moved by that level of courage and determination, and watching the amazement on the performers’ faces as they received their applause, how they literally grew at the audience response, never failed to make me cry.

I, on the other hand, was a local semi-celebrity facing the very real danger of ending up as a viral meme. Not only that, this night meant a lot to my family, and I wanted them to feel proud of me for once. I did my best to quell my jangling nerves by reminding myself that it couldn’t be worse than the year Jed bullied me into an operatic duet, and besides, this year Adam was sure to get all the attention.

‘And now, we have a special treat for you!’ My dad beamed, after it felt as if I’d been waiting in the wings forever. ‘Those of you who’ve been friends of Charis House for a while will remember one of our favourite bands of all time, The Spex. Now, this evening, we have the pleasure to welcome back their lead singer, Adam Wilson, who is going to perform with none other than our daughter and your weather presenter, Bea Armstrong!’

Before I could change my mind and flee for the hills, Adam grabbed my hand and dragged me onstage, waving and grinning at the cheering crowd.

Okay, this was happening, then. I might as well enjoy it.

With only a couple of hours to rehearse, we’d decided to keep it simple and stick to the theme. Nana Joy’s most well-known hit was a cover of the old song ‘If I Had You’. She’d declared herself so sick of singing it that she was happy for someone else to perform it this evening. While her version featured a big band and a choir of finger-clicking backing singers, Adam had stripped it back to our voices and his guitar and added a harmony that made my warble sound almost as if I shared a bit of DNA with a West End star.