Claire slips her glasses off in shock and helps to quieten our group down.

‘Thanks,’ I say. Now that I’ve got their attention, I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to do with it. ‘Um, I wanted to say a few words just to, um …’ I start to stutter, unsure how I could be so calm on stage minutes ago and yet so nervous in front of familiar faces. ‘I want to say thank you to Aaron, Yas, Dave and Hayley’ – I point to her sitting down on a chair – ‘for taking me … um … into the group. I’m sure none of you would be surprised to say that it was something that took me completely out of my comfort zone. Those that work with me will know that speaking publicly is Dad’s forte, not mine.

‘But I have really enjoyed being part of this wonderful team and I couldn’t think of better teachers to have had. So thank you for letting me join, and thank you to all of you who came to support us. I hope you’ll join me in raising a glass to the Impensonators.’

We all toast the team. I might need to steady my glass with both hands but I’m proud of myself for giving a speech.

‘Where’s the Edie Porter I know gone?’ says Claire. She smiles at me, a look filled with pride.

‘She’s still there; she’s just found her old confidence,’ I say, smiling back.

I am so grateful for the emails because, without them pushing me, I probably would never have found improv or thought I was capable of overcoming my fear of public speaking.

It makes me feel a little sad at the thought I won’t be receiving any more challenges. Without them, I wouldn’t have become so comfortable in my own skin. And even if it did come with some emotional baggage, I wouldn’t change a thing, because I like who I’ve become. I’ve finally found that feeling of contentment I’ve been missing for so long. I just hope I remember going forward that sometimes in life you need a kick up the bum to remind you that you only have one life, so why not live it?

Chapter 35

Ever since I received my first note-to-future-self email, I’ve been dreading today more than ever. I can’t believe seventeen years have passed since my mum’s death and that I haven’t seen or spoken to her in that long.

It feels harder this year, what with everything that I’ve gone through with Dad, and Joel, and the fact that the emails have bought that period of my life back in almost vivid technicolour. It’s bought a tidal wave of emotions.