‘Are you ready for your paid Fringe debut, Mr Shepperd?’ I pluck a chip from the cardboard container he’s holding and pop it in my mouth, savouring the delicious crunchiness.
‘Am I ever.’ Shep looks like the comedian that got the cream as he lounges casually on the bench we’ve commandeered in the Pleasance Courtyard. ‘I was made for this, Lea.’
‘Damn right, you were. I’m so excited that you’re performing here – at one of the most well-known Fringe venues.’
‘It’s certainly a step up on last year, isn’t it?’
‘I’ll say. It’s got a real stage and everything. Between this and your other shows and having an agent now, that invite for Live at the Apollo must be just around the corner.’
‘Slow down, would you? It’s a big leap going from gigs of a few hundred people to that.’ Despite giving me this reality check, Shep seems unable to hide his grin at the possibility.
‘Nah, I’d rather dream big for you.’ I angle my face at the evening sun, enjoying its warmth. ‘You’re the funniest person I’ve seen doing stand-up. Why wouldn’t they want you on their stage?’
‘Remember you’re biased. You laughed this morning when I said I was gonna take a shower.’
‘It was the way you said it. And also, what you did before that when we were—’
‘You gonna tell the whole courtyard about our sex life?’ He raises an eyebrow at me.
Looking around, I notice a few people glancing in our direction, possibly having recognised Shep from his picture on his show posters. ‘Oops, fair point.’
He sits forward and stretches his upper body.
‘Right, sexy lady, it’s forty minutes until curtain-up. Time for me to get in the zone.’ He plants a kiss on my lips and hands me the remainder of the tray of chips. ‘Enjoy the sunshine.’
I wave him off with a bright smile, then as soon as he’s out of sight, I ditch the chips in a bin and make my way across to the front entrance of the venue. To my delight, I see that I’m the first in the queue, so hopefully my plan will work.
Thirty-five minutes later, I’m parked on one of the fold-down seats in the smallish theatre space. It’s a very different set-up to the venue where Shep performed last year, in that it’s purpose-built and the seats are accessed from the right-hand side of the room via a set of steps that run down to the stage. I’ve picked the seat which is slap bang in the middle of the front row.
‘How long do you think it will take him to notice us?’ Tess, who’s sitting to my left, taps her fingers together excitedly.
My face spreads into a mischievous smile. ‘I expect not long.’
‘I hope we don’t put him off,’ says Becca, who’s on the other side of Tess.
‘No chance of that,’ I reply with complete confidence, my eyes fixed on the stage.
Moments later, the lights go down and the audience behind us whisper and giggle in anticipation.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, can I please ask you to give a warm Edinburgh welcome to… Shep!’
We applaud enthusiastically as the most important person in my life bounds out onto the stage, grabs the mic and paces back and forth, scanning his audience in his characteristic way. He has a broad grin plastered on his face, which becomes wider still as he takes in the sight in front of him. Then his eyes land on me, and I mouth, ‘I love you.’
‘Good evening, how’re you all doing? It’s great to see you,’ he booms. ‘Thanks for coming to my very first show of this year’s Fringe.’
There’s another smattering of applause and a cheer from the back of the room.
‘Thank you, that’s very kind.’ He puts his hands together in an appreciative gesture while still clutching the mic. ‘So, this is my second year here at the Fringe, and my first not having to shake a bucket and beg for money after my shows.’
‘Go on, son!’ catcalls another audience member.
‘Thanks, mate. You seem more pleased about that than I am,’ Shep acknowledges the overenthusiastic punter with a chuckle. ‘No… I am pleased, I’m chuffed to bits to be back. I just got distracted for a second there… because… you know how people who have near-death experiences describe their lives flashing in front of their eyes? Well, something similar has just happened. Walking out on stage there, I was checking out the bait in the first two rows – you know, as us comedians do… and literally every person I know is sat in those seats.’
Looking behind me, I can see Shep’s audience sharing baffled expressions.
‘I’m not kidding you,’ he continues. ‘I thought for a second I was experiencing some bizarre psychological phenomenon, but they’re all here in the flesh, like some weird-ass trip down memory lane. Look, these are my folks… my brother and sister… my girlfriend’s folks…’ He points to each of them in turn. ‘My mates from back home near Belfast… All right, lads? Beers later, yeah? My mates from Edinburgh… the pub owner from last year’s Fringe venue… my postman… my urologist…’
There’s a ripple of laughter and Shep zones in on one poor unsuspecting audience member.
‘Lady in the red T-shirt there, you look confused. Do you not know what a urologist is?’
I crane my neck to spot who he’s talking to and see the woman shake her head.
Shep gestures to the man sitting next to her. ‘It’s the doctor that looks up his pee-pee when he can’t do a wee-wee.’
The woman assumes a mortified expression and embarrassed laughter peals through the room.
‘Obviously, I’m kidding. My urologist isn’t here…’ Shep shakes his head with a smile. ‘He’s coming tomorrow night.’
The audience snickers and a few people clap at this.
‘So, there you all are…’ He does a visual sweep across the front two rows. ‘Looking very pleased with yourselves, aren’t you? I’m guessing this mind fuck is the work of my girlfriend, Lea. Here she is, everyone.’
To my embarrassment, he steps down off the stage and gets me to stand up, face blazing, while the rows and rows of people cheer and whistle.
‘Thank you, I’m sure Lea will appreciate that, especially as she’s now barred from this show. Security?’ Shep gives me a quick kiss – which receives a collective ‘aww’ from the audience – before returning to the stage.
‘Who am I kidding, talking like I have security?’ he continues. ‘I had to get a loan to even be here. Anyway, as you’ve hopefully gathered by now, I’m Shep, the bloke who robbed you of your hard-earned cash so I can repay that loan and entertain myself by manipulating you like puppets for an hour…’
He settles into his new routine, which I’ve heard parts of when he’s practised his delivery on me. I think it’s safe to say that this show, which again has audience participation as a key feature, is going to be an even bigger hit than last year’s. He takes us through a rollercoaster ride that includes everything from good-natured personal humiliations to collective gasps and side-splitting laughter. The hour goes by so quickly, I’m disappointed when he wraps things up and it comes to an end.
After we’ve filed out of the venue into the courtyard outside, I chat away to our family and friends, with one eye on the backstage exit, until I see him appear through the door. Spotting me immediately, he beckons for me to join him, and I lollop across, wincing in case I’m in trouble.
‘Am I really barred from future performances?’ I ask with a sweet smile.
‘Of course you’re not.’ He slips one arm around me, tucks a lock of hair behind my ear and looks at me meaningfully. ‘That was the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. I honestly can’t thank you enough. Later, when it’s just you and me, I want to hear exactly how you pulled that off, but for now, just one question: how the hell did you get my family over here? I know you’ve been working on them these last months, but that’s like taming a crash of rhinos. Look at them, they’re actually smiling.’
I glance across at his mum, dad and siblings, and adopt a shifty expression. ‘I might have been bombarding them a bit.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Covertly filming your shows and sending them the footage… sending them links to positive local media coverage… that kind of thing.’
‘Wow.’ Shep looks stupefied by this. ‘You genuinely are the best person in the world.’
‘I know.’ I shrug angelically. ‘Anyway, I think you need to put me down and go see your adoring fans.’
‘Do I have to?’ he complains, while kissing me and nuzzling my neck.
‘Yes. Go see yours and I’ll go see mine.’
I look over at Becca, Tess and Tanya. They’re standing with Tanya’s husband, John, and Byron, the infamous band member with whom Becca reunited a few weeks after Sal was banished from our friendship group. He’s actually a lovely bloke, who’s nothing like Sal made him out to be.
It’s as if they can feel my eyes on them, because they suddenly look back at us with a range of smiles and waves. Tess even makes a little heart with her fingers and holds it to her chest.
‘They really do adore you,’ says Shep. ‘As do I – for being generally amazing and for helping me get to this.’ He gazes around him contentedly while giving me an affectionate squeeze.
‘And I’m forever grateful to you for helping me find such wonderful friends.’
‘We make a good team, don’t we?’
‘The best.’ I smile up at him with loving eyes. ‘I can’t wait to see what life has in store for us, because with you by my side, I feel I can conquer anything.’
‘Right back at you.’
Holding hands, we wander across to our people, and as they encircle us, laughing and joking and congratulating Shep on his performance, I can’t help thinking back to this time a year ago, when I felt so isolated and alone. It still seems almost inconceivable that just twelve months on, I’m surrounded by so much love and friendship, and I know I’m the luckiest woman in the world.