I didn’t think really Jax could talk back to me or anything, but once I got started it was just like we were back in my bedroom practicing jokes or lying around downstairs watching Dave Allen DVDs with Mum bringing us cheesy toast and hot chocolates. So because of how nice that felt I wanted to keep it going, because who wouldn’t, and so I decided to tell him everything that had happened since he went.

I talked and talked and talked for ages, and even though it made me a bit sad that Jax couldn’t really talk back it also made me smile because actually, if he was there, there’s no way I would have been able to get all that out without him interrupting me about a million times. But I wouldn’t have minded.

After a while when I ran out of things to say, because I’d told Jax absolutely everything, I thought I’d better get on with practicing for the show. Which was what I was actually supposed to be doing. I put on Grandad’s jacket, because that’s called getting into character, and I know you might think I’m making this up, but as soon as I put on that jacket Jax started talking back to me. Honest.

I could actually hear him going, count it out in your head, Normie. One wait, two wait, three wait. Just like always, when we were trying out a new routine for Mum and I’d start to come in early or miss a mark and come in too late. Jaxy would give me the elbow, but gentle, not so it hurt. Just to remind me. And he’d always be right near my ear when it was my turn, whispering without moving his lips and saying, wait for it, wait for it...one, two, three, ready, aim, fire!

By the way, I know I’m not the funny one. Jax is. Was. I’m the straight guy, and that’s kind of like Dean Martin or Bud Abbott. The straight guy sets the funny guy up with the joke and then the funny guy comes in and finishes it off and gets the laughs, which is a pretty genius system, I reckon, as long as nothing happens to the other guy standing beside you.

But something did happen to the guy that always stands beside me and it was really hard to keep having to remember that I wasn’t part of a comedy duo anymore. I was supposed to be Little Big Man, one guy with a one-man show for one night only. Even though no way no how am I anywhere near being a man. But Leonard told me I shouldn’t think about the whole Little Big Man thing too much, because it was just something he nicked from an old movie to make me look good for the Facebook page. He said all I had to do was just get up there and be Norman Foreman, because that’s who I am and I’m the only one who can do it.