When I was appointed director of public prosecutions, I had a government car and visited the security services. When I came out, I got into the back of what I thought was my car, but it was somebody’s private car and they told me in no uncertain terms to get out. I had to reverse out with as much dignity as I could, with the head of security services watching.

Appearing on US breakfast radio. I heard the DJ say that after the news we would hear from the author Lincoln Child. I had to choose between making a guy with a mixed-up PR release look like an idiot or pretending to be Lincoln. I pretended.

Giving a speech in high school at a pep rally that wasn’t going so well and the dean unplugged the mic. Apparently, I was rambling and the spirit of the cafeteria was being weighed down.

That time I congratulated a waitress on being pregnant.

Speedy, bossy, loving.

Magician’s assistant on a cruise ship for two weeks when I was 19. When I was meant to be being levitated, I was silently crying while pretending to be unconscious as I hung limply off a metal pole. It was bleak.

A glow of wellbeing.

Laziness, lack of empathy, lack of humour.

A missionary in Africa – I think that was Sunday school-based.

If there could be a double of me to look after my child when I’m working.