She swung her head around to include me and I thought for a second it might be possible to fall in love with Kathy, just like Tony had. I had the feeling she’d be able to take anything in stride. Just lift up her Birkenstocks, step right over the hard stuff life threw at her and keep on walking. I nodded mutely and wondered when would be the best time to deliver the news of why we were really here.

I looked over at Norman, his raspberry-ripple rash melting down his forehead and cheek, into his collar and who knows where else underneath his clothes. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get anything out there was a soft rustle and a strong waft of Imperial Leather as Leonard, who’d been silent since Kathy’s revelation, shifted in his seat and leaned forward into the table.

“I... I know it’s not what you expected, Norman, and I’m so terribly sorry about my error. I... I don’t know how I could have got things so mixed up like that...really, I don’t. But, you know, nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say. Why not just say you’ll do it and damn the torpedoes!”

Now that he had our attention, Leonard sat up straight in his chair, put his shoulders back, cleared his throat and delivered his finale.

“I say, get in there, my boy! This is no time to be a pussy!”

It couldn’t have been more unexpected if Charlotte Church herself had popped down to the seafront in her leisurewear to have tea with us.

Everyone was looking at Norman, but his eyes were fixed on a point beyond Leonard, out through the door of the café and way, way past the shoreline of Swansea Beach. When he spoke, his voice sounded infinitely distant and I knew he was out there, swinging his legs over the edge of the horizon, eating cheesy toast with his best mate. Softly, so softly, his voice came back like a used-up echo.

“That’s exactly what Jax would have said.”

I glanced over at Leonard, who was sat there looking pretty pleased with himself, and he gave me a slow wink. For someone who was partial to a sneaky afternoon nap during the important parts he was pretty good at keeping up with the movie.

26

KATHY WASN’T WRONG. When we pulled up in the car park of the Taliesin Arts Centre it felt like we’d stumbled upon a refugee camp for looky-likies. Among the sequined flotsam and jetsam I spotted a teenage Sia, a pair of pint-size twin Mariahs, a middle-aged Britney and a guy who may or may not have been the real Rick Astley coming around for another shot. I definitely couldn’t see any other nervy-looking twelve-year-old boys in purple velvet jackets masquerading as comedians, so at least Norman had the element of surprise on his side.

Leonard, Norman and I sat silently in the car for a good few minutes, taking in the scene. My mental powers were useless yet again and my telepathic motherly advice just kept bouncing off the windows and reverberating back into my head. Norman heard nothing. He was pressed up against the back door of the car holding a fistful of Post-it notes, eyes closed, mouth moving silently and furiously.