A pair of familiar eyes stared back at me from the computer, brown, kind and unblinking. Only, after a closer look, I decided I was wrong and it couldn’t be Norman, because I was pretty sure that last time I checked he hadn’t grown a twirly handlebar mustache and sideburns. Also, this guy’s skin was very smooth, without any traces of psoriasis, and he was wearing a fringed suede jacket and a top hat, both of which I was fairly confident Norman didn’t own. I shook my head and blinked hard so I could have another run at whatever it was I was looking at.

“Um, Leonard...what’s...? Is this supposed to be Norman’s father? Did you...find one already? Because I... I have to say I really don’t think... I mean, I think I’d remember this guy.”

“No, no, no, Sadie, look again!” Which was a bit hard because, as he said that, he actually zoomed the screen out so the face got smaller. “It’s Norman himself, in digital disguise!”

The computer screen was now totally filled and I realized I was looking at some kind of a promotional poster. Above the image of my twelve-year-old son masquerading as a middle-aged man I could see some words in a fancy scroll font. Norman Foreman, Little Big Man of Comedy. As I leaned forward over Leonard’s shoulder to get a closer look, the longer I stared, the closer my jaw got to the floor.

The scene was an American Wild West–style bar and I could see now that Norman’s big fake-mustachioed head was attached to a tiny cartoon body that was bursting out between two wooden saloon doors. Behind them, I could see a Calamity Jane type featuring my head leaning on the bar, and there was a horse with Leonard’s face tethered out the front of the saloon. Everywhere I looked there was something else taken out of any sane context and dropped into this crazy imaginary scene. There was the Austin Maxi on top of the saloon’s roof, there was Eric Morecambe sitting quietly drinking a whiskey at the bar, there was my father, even, hunched over at a table, laughing into a bowl of peanuts. And just when I thought I’d seen it all, right down in the bottom left-hand corner, waiting patiently outside the saloon, was a small white dog with Jax’s smiling face balancing on its furry shoulders. My heart fell into Leonard’s teacup and did a few seconds of boiling backstroke. It was completely ridiculous and I had no idea what it was supposed to be, but somehow it was also absolutely, totally, out-of-this-world wonderful.

“Leonard. This is so...it’s amazing. Really. Where did you get...and how did you... I mean, did you do this? How do you know how to...?”

Leonard put up his hand to bat away my praise, but I could see a tinge of pink rising up from underneath the collar of his shirt. He sat up a little bit straighter in the chair and I got a faint waft of clean laundry.