Norman was also watching Kathy and Tony closely and had gone a slightly paler shade of pasty, which made the lacework of psoriasis around his hairline stand out like raspberry ripple. He’d clearly seen the look as well, and if there was something to be anxious about he wanted in. I felt a slight sweatiness in our joined hands, but I couldn’t tell whose it was.

“No, no. It’s just that, well...um...” Kathy cleared her throat and started again. “Look, I have a friend whose daughter is, er...performing in that. It’s, ah...actually kind of like a talent show, with dancers and singers and it’s quite...um, you know...well, it actually is a talent show. And the Taliesin isn’t a pub, it’s an arts centre, it’s...well, I don’t mean to...but it isn’t anything like an open mic at all, really.”

I tried to catch Norman’s eye to reassure him, but he wasn’t looking at me because he was too busy swiveling his head from Kathy to Tony to Leonard and back again. The urgent telepathic messages I was sending out were getting lost on the table between the leftover carrot cake and teacups, so I gave up and concentrated on worrying about the vision I suddenly had of Norman sandwiched in to perform between Swansea’s finest up-and-comers. He let go of my hand, but the sweatiness remained.

Poor Leonard looked absolutely mortified as the penny began to drop. But then Tony, Kathy and the waitress, who’d stopped by to offer an opinion along with a top-up of tea, all started talking at the same time, tripping over each other’s words and saying things like, “Well, comedy might not be singing and dancing but it’s definitely a talent. It’ll be fine, of course it will be fine and, anyhow, where’s the harm? Why shouldn’t Norman have a go?” How long have you got?

It was a worrying turn of events and no doubt about it. Even the name of the thing suggested that Swansea already had talent, and this was just a way of giving a few extra kudos to the best of the best. I really wasn’t sure how my beautiful boy and his Post-it note jokes would survive. Norman and Jax’s plan was never supposed to be about competing, it was always about the comedy. About a couple of mates having the bollocks to get out there and make people laugh for a couple of minutes. This just felt like an ambush.

Clearly used to thinking on her feet, probably from all those years of picking up the spirits of Swansea’s disaffected community members, Kathy sprang into action.

“Listen, Norman, I didn’t mean to scare you off or anything. I just didn’t want you to think...well, anyhow, maybe you could just go along and have a look first and see what you think? Tony and I could come, too, if... Tony?” Tony was already nodding enthusiastically so Kathy turned her attention back to Norman.

“You could take a look at the setup of the place and the other contest—er, entrants, and then, if you decide it’s not for you, well, nobody says you have to do it, right? What do you think, Sadie?”