I choked on a hard-boiled lemon sweet when I was 13. My brother Sam saved me.

I inadvertently rubbed the milky residue of a toxic cactus plant into my eye while filming Women In Love in the desert in Namibia, and my body went into anaphylactic shock as the producer sped me to a clinic 50 miles away.

As a young man I had a car accident on a foggy night that left the vehicle looking like a squashed box, even though, by some miracle, I walked away unscathed.

Modelling in South Korea, aged 19. After a party, I flopped into bed, lit a big candle and balanced it on top of a massive box of matches. I created my own firework display when the candle burnt down and set fire to it. It made the biggest noise ever which, luckily, woke me from my slightly boozy slumber.

I get a lot of abuse online because of my opposition to the assault on Gaza. The abuse is horrific, but I’ve learned to ignore it. The integrity of how you live your life is more important than what strangers think.

Impulsive, enthusiastic, determined.

I worked in a supermarket on the Kings Road when I was 17, standing by the beers, wines and spirits to make sure people didn’t shoplift. They were such horrible employers that I didn’t care whether people shoplifted or not.

I talk too much.

I vowed never to marry, but we got married as soon as we could after lockdown. I used to think it was patriarchal but when same-sex marriage became legal, I thought: OK, great, this institution has finally changed.

I really wanted a role in Harry Potter and I never got one.