An evening in the company of the brilliant Peter Blegvad. Quite frankly you can’t buy entertainment like this. I drive Peter to an Indian restaurant in Sudbury near Wembley. We were the token white boys as this packed eatery caters mostly for the local Asian community. No madras’s and tikka masala’s here. Starters include Patra, which you won’t find in your high street tandoori.

We discuss many a subject and reminisce about our previous creative endeavours. Pete tells me his applied for a job as professor of creative writing at a university in Leipzig. He also tells me of an extraordinary tale of fan worship.

He began to receive mail largely in praise of his cartoon strip ‘Leviathan’. It was only when the writer of the letters sent him a photograph of a portrait that he had painted of Pete, framed in an elaborate mandala type construction, That Pete fully realised that this portrait was hung on the wall of a prison cell. What follows is complicated, bizarre, harrowing and extremely funny. In a way that only Peter can tell.