After our lunch, which thankfully became less of a stag fight once the time and place for the world’s most inappropriate duel had been set, we head across town and I usher my parents into the Old Town Inn to give Shep some much needed space ahead of his performance.
‘Shep, I’m so sorry about my dad.’ We’re standing on the pavement outside the pub, away from my parents’ line of sight. ‘He’s always been super protective, but this is the worst I’ve ever seen him.’
‘Lea, it’s grand.’ Shep draws me into a reassuring embrace. ‘I’ll forget he’s even there.’
‘Are you just saying that to make me feel better?’
‘I’m not. Your da is right. If I want to play with the big boys and girls of the comedy world, I have to be able to deal with whatever is thrown at me.’
‘I guess.’ I furrow my brow and look up at him with apologetic eyes. ‘But he should still know better.’
Shep chuckles and touches my cheek affectionately. ‘Remember, he isn’t actually my girlfriend’s dad or a potential future in-law of mine, so really he’s just another member of the audience.’
‘Of course,’ I murmur, while doing my best to hide the hurt I shouldn’t be feeling from this statement. ‘I guess that does make things easier, though it’s never pleasant to have someone butting heads with you, regardless of who they are.’
‘That is true. But I can also see the funny side of this, can’t you?’
‘It is pretty ridiculous,’ I admit with a scoff.
‘See, there you go. Now, go and entertain your folks, and I’ll see you after the show.’
‘OK. I’ll buy him a large whisky in the hope that chills him out a bit.’
‘Great thinking.’ Shep plants a kiss on the top of my head then disappears into The Canongate Tavern, while I embark on my challenge to tame the beast that is my dad.
Pushing open the door to the Old Town Inn, I notice the place is busier than usual. All the tables are occupied by tourists eating generous platefuls of pub grub. Perhaps it’s better known for a good lunch, and a welcome rest from roaming the narrow closes of Edinburgh’s Old Town, than an evening drinking den.
My parents are sitting at the back, by the toilets, so I head in that direction, and as I do, my hand is grabbed by someone at one of the tables I pass.
‘Lea, there you are! We were trying to get hold of you.’
‘Oh, hi.’ I’m surprised and delighted to see Becca, Tess and Sal sitting together, smiling at me (well, Becca and Tess are smiling; Sal is looking at her phone, as usual). ‘Is it not a bit early for you to be here?’
‘That’s why we were trying to reach you,’ says Tess, who was the one who grabbed my hand. ‘We decided to go to Shep’s show this afternoon. Becca messaged you to see if you wanted to join us.’
‘Sorry, I’ve been… managing a bit of a situation. Those people over there…’ I signal towards my mum and dad, who are looking in our direction, obviously wondering who I’m talking to, ‘…are my parents.’
‘Gosh, of course.’ Becca’s face lights up with recognition. ‘Today was the lunch with your mum and dad. Was it that bad?’ She winces in anticipation of my answer.
‘I’ll fill you in properly when they’re gone, but right now, all I’ll say is that my dad’s in sniper mode and we’re having a pre-show drink.’
‘You mean your parents are going to Shep’s show?’ Becca looks horrified. ‘If your dad hasn’t taken to Shep, that’s hardly going to improve his opinion of him.’
‘Wait a minute,’ barks Sal, who seems pissed that she’s not in the know. ‘Why was he meeting your parents? I thought you got that this thing between you and him is just a month-long shagathon. What have I missed here?’
‘Nothing,’ I reassure her, while feeling intimidated by her abrasiveness. ‘What they all think of each other is not what I’m most worried about. I’m concerned my dad’s going to put Shep off his game and that it will create an issue between us.’
‘For God’s sake,’ she scoffs, giving me a withering look. ‘Shep’s a big boy. He can look after himself.’
‘I know that. I’m just… Never mind.’ I look across at my parents again, and see that my dad’s out of his seat and heading in our direction. ‘Shit, here he comes. Please do not say anything about Shep living with me. They don’t know about that, and they’ll kill me if they find out.’
‘Pinky promise.’ Tess locks her little finger on mine.
Quickly glancing at the others, I see Becca giving an affirmative nod, while Sal simply rolls her eyes, which I have no time to interpret as anything other than agreement.
‘Thank you,’ I mouth at them and turn to my dad. ‘Dad, sorry, I got waylaid. These are my friends, Becca, Tess and Sal. I didn’t know they were going to be here this afternoon.’
‘What are the chances?’ My dad goes into full charm offensive – the total opposite to how he’s been with Shep. ‘Good to meet you, ladies. We’re about to go and see Lea’s new boyfriend’s show. We’re hoping he’s got some talent, so this one doesn’t spend the rest of her life skint if it works out between them.’
‘Dad.’ I scold him.
‘Apologies. Can’t blame a dad for wanting to look out for his daughter, though, eh?’ He winks at my friends, and I shake my head in irritation. ‘Anyway, can I get you ladies another drink?’
‘I’ll get them, Dad,’ I jump in quickly. ‘You paid for lunch, so please let me.’
‘Would you look at that,’ he continues to charm the knickers off my new friends. ‘That’s when you know you’ve done a good job – when your daughter insists on getting a round in. Nice to see you all. I’ll leave you in peace.’
They smile and say goodbye, then their attention returns to me.
‘He seems lovely,’ says Becca as soon as he’s out of earshot. ‘It’s a shame Shep isn’t seeing that side of him.’
‘Isn’t it just.’ I grimace.
‘I assume your plan is to get him a bit pissed so he enjoys the show and leaves Shep alone?’ says Tess.
‘That’s exactly the idea.’ I pluck my purse out of my handbag and back away from them with a pained expression. ‘Wish me luck.’
Forty-five minutes later, we take our seats in the venue at the back of The Canongate Tavern. Unfortunately, despite me pleading with my dad not to make this an unbearable experience for everyone involved, he insists on sitting in the front row and invites Becca, Tess and Sal to do the same. So, the six of us end up within spitting distance of where Shep will be doing his thing. I’m basically mortified by this, but all I can do is sit there and pray that this won’t go the way I’m fearing it will.
Having arrived early to make sure we got seats – which I’m obviously now wishing we hadn’t – we chat among ourselves for the best part of twenty minutes, before the lights go down and Shep’s disguised voice booms through the speakers.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, can I please ask you to give a warm Edinburgh welcome to… Shep!’
Everyone in the room claps, while my dad mutters, ‘Was that Ciaran doing his own intro?’ in my ear, and I shush him to discourage him from any further commentary. Shep bounds out from behind the curtain – in the exact same way as every other time – plucks the microphone out of its cradle and does his pacing thing to check out who’s in the room.
‘Good afternoon, how’re you all doing? It’s great to see you.’ He clocks the line-up in the front row. ‘Some of you more than others.’
He grins at the six of us, then his gaze lands solidly on my dad, and I start babbling, ‘Oh, God, oh God, oh God,’ under my breath. The two of them appear to stare each other out for several moments, then Shep gives a sly chuckle and scans the audience again.
‘Tell me, how many of you are here today with your other half?’
We all look around as some hands go up.
‘All right, I’m counting fifteen hands, which means one of you has brought both your other halves – that’s awkward – we have a throuple in the room, or… someone’s not fessin’ up.’
The smiling audience continue to look around curiously, until another hand is slowly raised through what seems to be a bit of a tussle.
‘Ah, there we are.’ Shep zones in on the bloke whose hand has just been dragged up by his girlfriend, and who looks like he wants to crawl into a hole and die. ‘How long have the two of you been together?’
‘Three months,’ the man mumbles.
‘What was that?’
‘Three months.’
‘Ah, that explains it.’ Shep clicks his fingers in recognition. ‘You’re still to learn that free will is a luxury enjoyed only by the single people.’
There’s a ripple of amusement as the poor guy tries very hard to disappear into his seat, though I note that he is at least laughing. Shep gives him a comical nod, then returns his attention to the wider room.
‘OK, now keep your hand up if you’ve met the folks.’
Only eight hands stay up.
‘Where did you meet each other’s?’ Shep asks one of the four remaining couples.
‘At my husband’s art exhibition,’ says the woman. ‘We met each other’s parents on the same night.’
‘Ah, you’re an artist. Well done, my man.’ Shep nods at the woman’s husband approvingly. ‘Always good to meet a fellow creative. So, you say you met each other’s parents on the same night, and they also met each other? Oof… risky. What was that like?’
‘It was great,’ says the woman at the same time as the man says, ‘Like facing a firing squad,’ and the whole room erupts with laughter.
‘Are you two sure you were at the same event?’ Shep gives them a cheeky grin. ‘No, the reason I ask is that I just met the folks…’
There’s a collective ‘ooh’.
‘I mean I literally just met them four hours ago… and now they’re sitting right here in the front row, willing me to fuck up.’
Laughter breaks out again as I glance around in embarrassment, now in the spotlight alongside my parents.
‘No, I’m being unfair. The meet-the-folks lunch was great – the food was great, I mean. The experience itself was like being watched by a very hungry bear, and it left me wondering if I’d misunderstood the invite. Like maybe rather than asking me to lunch, my girlfriend’s da meant he was gonna have me for lunch.’
To my surprise, my dad guffaws, while I clap my hands together with delight on realising this joke came from our earlier conversation. I’m also super relieved to see that my dad seems to be taking Shep’s ‘revenge’ on him in good faith.
Leaning forward slightly, I look in the direction of Becca, Tess and Sal. Sal isn’t paying attention to me – or to Shep, for that matter – so I’m unable to catch her eye, but Becca and Tess both look across and wave. Subtly pointing to my dad, I give them a covert thumbs up before play-wiping my forehead with the back of my hand. Becca beams at me while Tess responds with a super-enthusiastic double thumbs up.
Having clearly decided he’s inflicted enough of a counterblow on my dad, Shep moves seamlessly onto the main content of his show, with which I’m now very familiar. What I’m also very familiar with is the amused groans from the audience when Shep unveils his massive bingo card. The pride that I’ve felt each time I’ve watched him perform balloons as I revel in seeing my parents, as well as Becca and Tess – though unfortunately not Sal, who doesn’t seem to be paying Shep the slightest bit of attention – falling about with laughter at his jokes.
About halfway through, he reaches a particularly funny story about generational differences, and I smile in anticipation of the reaction he’ll get when he shares the punchline.
‘…So there I am,’ he says, ‘on the back seat of the bus, sandwiched between these two wee grannies, basically getting told off on behalf of my whole generation for being too lazy and entitled… for being rude… not respecting my elders…’ Shep plays this out as if they’re right there on either side of him and he’s nodding down at them, which creates a ripple of giggles. ‘For inventing the evil that is social media – I think that one in particular was quite unfair. Then, I kid you not, when they’ve finished giving me the lecture of the century, the one on my left lets out a ripper of a fart—’
The place explodes with laughter, causing Shep to have to pause, as he always does at this point. He nods vigorously as he looks around the audience with disbelieving eyes.
‘It was something you’d expect a cow to produce… not a human… never mind a frail old lady. Then, as the bus slowed down for the next stop, the two of them get up and the farter says to me, “We’ll leave you to stew on that, young man.”’
The hilarity in the room rises even further, as the audience members look at each other with incredulity.
‘I’ll never know whether she was referring to the telling-off or the fart.’ Shep snickers. ‘But there’s a small part of me that likes to think the two of them sit at home together, eating beans and onions and Brussel sprouts, and then one of them says to the other: “Right, Nora, shall we go get some craic on the bus with those fresh-faced wee buggers?”’
The room breaks into applause, while Shep throws his hands up dramatically, and as it’s petering out, a guy in the second row behind Becca, Tess and Sal shouts, ‘On her phone. She’s on her phone!’
I realise he’s pointing to Sal, who’s lost in her device to the point she has zero awareness she’s just been singled out.
‘I’ll handle this.’ Shep puts a finger to his lips and makes a show of creeping across towards Sal while she remains none the wiser.
‘Boo!’ He shouts at her good-naturedly, giving her the fright of her life, while everyone else whoops with satisfied delight.
Shep then goes to the huge bingo card and puts a cross through ‘On their phone, the rude bastard’.
‘There you are. Proof that Nora and her pal were right about us “youngsters” – and about social media being the root of all evil. Ah well, better to be lazy and rude and miss one of the best comedy shows of the Fringe…’ he pauses for a reaction and gets a couple of cheers, ‘…than be guilty of unashamedly gassing Generation Z on public transport.’
Everyone laughs, while Sal simply looks around in confusion, having evidently missed the story about the bus farter.
At the end of the show, Shep gets his usual rip-roaring applause, and afterwards my mum, dad, Tess, Sal, Becca and I file out of the room behind the rest of the audience.
‘Well done. Again!’ I beam at Shep as we reach him, while dropping a tenner in his bucket.
He gives me a look. ‘Lea, I’ve told you before, you don’t need to—’
‘I know, but I want to.’ I refuse the note he’s trying to return to me. ‘So, what did you all think?’ I ask my parents and Becca, Tess and Sal, who are also putting their monetary contributions in Shep’s bucket.
‘It was brill!’ Tess flings herself at Shep like a bouncy ball, giving him a congratulatory hug. ‘You’re so funny. Isn’t he funny?’ She turns to the rest of us.
‘It really was great.’ Becca smiles warmly at Shep. ‘You’re a natural.’
Sal is still glued to her phone, so I turn to my parents.
‘Well?’
My mum looks to my dad, obviously keen to hear his view on things first, and we all follow suit. My dad clears his throat.
‘Ciaran, I’ll be honest, I really wasn’t sure about you to start with—’
‘No, really?’ I pull a sarcastic face and everyone chuckles.
‘All right, daughter. Rein it back in.’ He tweaks my nose while giving me a jokey warning look. ‘What I’m trying to say is that you’re clearly a very talented comedian and I now think I understand you a bit more.’
‘Are those words of acceptance, David?’ Shep asks with a cheeky half-smile.
‘You know they are. Don’t push it.’
‘Right you are.’
‘Also, take note. If you hurt my daughter, even once, that acceptance will be withdrawn – permanently.’
‘Got it.’ Shep nods, then looks to my mum. ‘How about you, Karen? I need to know I’ve got your seal of approval as well.’
‘Oh, you had it from the moment you gave that speech about Lea in the restaurant.’ My mum waves her hand casually. ‘I’m also protective of my daughter, but not in the same caveman way as this one. Just look after her, please. And like David says, don’t hurt her.’
‘So that’s another successful show, and parental approval – all in one afternoon.’ Shep shakes his bucket, which doesn’t make much noise, as it’s filled mainly with notes again. ‘This deserves a drink on me.’