She may have been one of the last to play Dave's Leicester Comedy Festival, but hotly-tipped young redhead Diane was by no means least of the comics showcased this year, writes Alex Scoppie.

Hers was a set of two halves; in the first she kept multiple storylines up in the air like spinning plates, and what began with a disastrous, blood-stained journey through London quickly expanded to incorporate sight tests, Sunday morning glory and pole-dancers.

Di's control of these disparate narratives was commendable, giddily darting between them before returning to her main story for its fraught and funny finale, and she did so in such a light-hearted manner you'd think she was telling tales to friends at her local.

After a break, she tried new material and, though understandably sketchier than her already-established first hour, her adventures with alcoholic schizophrenia and "gingerism" were more hit than miss.

Her easy delivery, together with her interaction with the crowd, suggested a comedian with real command of her craft and tantalising future prospects.