Chesney Hawkes, the one and only, is sitting on my sofa with a mug of lemon and ginger tea and recalling some encounters with fans. “I was told that, this one guy, The One and Only was his favourite song, and whenever it would come on in the pub, his friends would pick him up and he’d be like …” He makes disco fingers at the ceiling. “Then he sadly passed away, but they played it at the funeral, and when it came on, that’s when they raised the coffin.”
We are silent for a moment, picturing the scene.
