The satnav takes me and my wife a weird way home. My phone pings: a selfie just taken by our drummer with Bryan Adams
The band I’m in is to play the main stage at the last ever Cornbury festival, and my wife is being difficult about it, but refusing to accept she is being difficult. In my frustration I have begun to address my side of the conversation to the youngest one, who is ignoring me and staring at his laptop.
“The thing is,” I say to him, “she doesn’t really want to come.”
