We sat down for a moment, and I calmly told him the reason why I was there. He was moved by my story, that was obvious. He told me that he’d accept me on one of his four-day half-term courses, and annoyed me a little by saying he’d rather put me with the eight-to-twelve-year-olds. The thirteen-to-sixteens were fairly rough, and I might get hurt, which wasn’t the aim. What’s more, he had fully grasped the urgency of my situation, and the course for the younger ones started first. Sunday, actually. He added that, given the circumstances, I could do just one or two days, but I insisted on doing all four. It’s what Louis would have done, so that’s what I had to do. I would just have to get a move on with the following challenges – hoping that they didn’t include any more long courses. Edgar smiled when I let slip the word ‘challenges’. Then he gave me his phone number and asked for mine, so he could let me know if the course was cancelled at the last minute – officially.

The next morning, I told Louis what I was going to do. Charlotte mentioned that her brother was a tough coach and that I’d better get myself into shape beforehand, otherwise I’d find it hard going. Naturally, I ignored her advice. I spent the Saturday afternoon preparing myself physically in my own way: I had to find an outfit that wouldn’t make me look like a shapeless sack in football boots. I also attempted to learn about football by watching two matches . . . which confirmed my lack of interest in the game – both times, I fell asleep at half-time.

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