I resisted the urge to agree with Adam because, despite having almost lost the will to live while listening to his self-directed and produced This Is Your Life episode, just for a microsecond this flash of self-deprecation reminded me of Norman. A nanosecond, maybe. Because occasionally, if he noticed some mouthy kid sizing up the condition of his skin and getting ready to pounce, before they had a chance to come up with a cutting gibe or sneering question, Norman would jump in first.

If he was quick enough to get there, it might be something like, “I know, I know, I better stay away from the dips at parties. A...am...amiright?” Or on a good day, “Come and have a closer look if you like, the doctor said it might not be quite so contagious anymore.”

KO’ing their poxy piggin’ punch line is what Jax called it. Some nights I’d hear Norman practicing potential comebacks, and it damn near broke me, if I’m honest. Because if I ever heard of anyone making fun of him I just wanted to go in guns blazing, but Jax would always say, “Nah, Normie’s got it covered, Sadie. He can look after himself. He just pounds ’em in the poxy piggin’ punch line and they’ve had it!”

The pride I saw on Norman’s face as he basked in Jax’s praise was the only thing that saved me sometimes.

Even the start of the open mic and the raucous yelling of the crowd, egging on and heckling the various acts, couldn’t distract Adam from his story, but funnily enough, so far he hadn’t even mentioned Norman or the possibility that he might be his father. One thing for certain was that there was definitely no telltale genetic cloud hovering around him, although to be fair it could have been overpowered by the lingering odor of sweat, lager and something that might have smelled a little bit like wee.

I was trying my best to remind myself that it was nice to be nice, but Adam Linley made it a pretty tough ask. Not for the first time I wished that Jax was still here, because he would have known exactly what to say to Adam to shut down his self-pitying rant. You can bet it wouldn’t have been appropriate or even polite, but it would definitely have been right on the money. I blinked slowly and took a deep swig of warm Chardonnay as a smiling, dirty-faced boy filled the spaces behind my eyes. I managed to get myself into a zone where I could nod and uh-huh in synch with the rise and fall of Adam’s voice without paying too much attention to what he was saying. But in my head I was trying to work out just how soon I could make my excuses and get back to the Premier Inn, which suddenly seemed like the most desirable place on earth. And right then I’d have handed over a hundred toasted sandwich makers if I could have got rid of Adam as easily as I had the last time I’d seen him, because if this guy was Norman’s father, then we were most definitely better off without him.