They stood in the middle of a lawn and held onto each other for a long time while thirty people pretended to look at something else, and Leo, aged nine, watched the whole thing from beside the cake table with an expression of profound confusion, because everybody was crying and smiling at once and nobody would explain it to him.

Two years on, this is where things stand.

Leo Vance is eleven and talks so much that his father has been heard, on at least one occasion, to say the words “buddy, I’m begging you.” He plays the trumpet badly.

He still won’t go in the garage, and Dr.

Yeboah says that’s fine, and that there is no rule anywhere requiring a person to be finished.

Theo lives forty minutes away and has a wife and a daughter, and the daughter is seven and is entirely unimpressed by the fact that her aunt is famous in three counties for something that happened before she was born.