Anyhow, in among the trifle of my thoughts, I decided that if nobody else mentioned calling James Knox, then I wasn’t going to, either. It felt like a good decision and, unaccustomed to the effort required of making those, I managed to nod off into the sleep of the righteous.

In between dozing I caught snatches of Leonard and Norman’s chatter as they ran through the jokes. Cutting out a word here, adding a couple more in there and generally working on the delivery.

“The beat and rhythm, old boy. Beat and rhythm.”

Leonard accompanied his words with a volley of helpful slaps on the steering wheel every now and then, but sleepy as I was, I couldn’t help hearing that, no matter how many times he fed Norman a line to repeat, the practice seemed to be having little to no effect on my son’s off-kilter delivery. It still sounded like something, or someone, was missing.

Somewhere along the road I woke up and realized their voices had stopped and the only sound I could hear was the whir of the Austin’s motor. I looked over at Leonard, hands now firm on the wheel, a look of intense concentration on his face.

“All right, Leonard?”

He half turned his head to me and smiled, and I felt a sudden rush of affection.

“All right, love.” Come on, Sadie, love, let’s go home.

I raised my arms in a stretch and twisted around in my seat. Norman was scrunched up on the far side of the back seat, scraps of paper and Post-it notes spilling off his lap. His head was leaning against the window and his eyes were wide and unblinking, staring at the blurry passing scenery. I wondered what could possibly be going through his head.

I mean, what would a twelve-year-old kid who was about to get up on a proper stage at one of the world’s most famous comedy festivals be thinking? That two days out from the biggest moment in his life his skin was basically peeling off in front of his eyes? That there was a very real chance this one show could destroy every bit of confidence he’d ever had? That in a couple of days they might be sweeping him off the floor of the Duke in bits? I had a sudden memory of a late-night trip home in the car with my dad after yet another bad show, blinking to stay awake and hoping I was laughing in the right places as he dissected the jokes that had fallen flat on their faces all over again. So I realized there was a strong possibility the churn in the pit of my stomach could just have been me projecting. But what if it wasn’t?

“Leonard! Can you pull over? Please, now. I mean, as soon as...” Startled, Leonard slammed his foot on the brake, causing the Austin to shudder then slow right down.

“What is it, Sadie? Do you need a comfort stop?” He scanned the open paddocks on both sides of the road dubiously.