To kids I bullied in school. I have apologised and I will continue to. To repay those things karmically, I will watch my kids’ hearts like a hawk for signs of hardening or any distortions of empathy that they might develop.

My children. I was away an awful lot when they were little and not very good at being a father when I was around. I could have done better.

To my wife Saadiya, for interrupting too many evenings, weekends and family holidays with work.

I am mortified that we went into Afghanistan, promised to liberate the female population and, 20 years later, dumped them in a situation as bad, robbing girls of their futures.

Funny, annoying and kind.

Now, because of my marriage and because since September 2019 I’ve been free of clinical depression.

Oversensitivity.

My husband, Lincoln, for getting sober with me. He turned his own life around to turn mine around. We didn’t do AA, we anchored each other.

I was a waitress at a holiday camp. On a Wednesday afternoon all the guys used to pee into the rice pudding and we had to serve it to the customers.

Shitting myself in New York last November. I was wearing cream trousers. We were going to see my son Matty and his band, the 1975, at Madison Square Garden, and I was walking through the streets, enjoying the sunshine, pretending I was in some kind of video – throwing my hat into the New York sky like Mary Tyler Moore. I saw a couple of people turn and look at me. Now, although I’m not famous in New York, whenever Matty’s there I do get recognised as his mum, so I’m smiling and waving at them. I went back to the hotel room and bent over to get something out of the suitcase, and my husband said: “Do you realise you’ve shat yourself?”