Where Drew Michael’s show was meant to be our last of the Fringe, we have now booked another helping of Julia Masli at midnight, and so I have time to kill to avoid going back and forth to the Airbnb. Hazel and George are going to The Dark Room, but it’s sold out with no returns. I scroll through the app and realise, with a bit of pace, I can make it to the Pleasance Courtyard just in time for Leila’s show, which has been winning rave reviews and excellent word of mouth. It’s not hard to see why. I’ll not do the standard description of her or her show, the one she’s become tired of having to own, you can look that up yourselves. Her comedic voice is distinct and assured, and there is a subtle ambition to this show which is to be admired. The central story of it I saw in a very embryonic state a year or so ago, and to see it expanded and enlivened here is wonderful. She is, unfortunately and understandably, shaken by an incident the previous night, but puts on a brave face and pulls it off, even with a member of the awards panel joining in slightly late in a suboptimal seat. He seemed to enjoy it. I hope he did enough for it to be in contention.