When I worked out I was gay and decided to leave the church at 29.

I almost pulled out of my first solo tour because of impostor syndrome.

I can’t remember when I read, or was told, that he considered it a good thing to spend a short time every day thinking about death, thus getting used to its inevitability and coming to understand that something inevitable is natural and can’t be too bad, but it was in my early teens, and it struck me as a sensible idea. Of course I didn’t set out to think about death in a regular way every day, but I did think about it quite often, and sure enough, it worked. Why coming to see death’s naturalness should have caused belief in an afterlife to melt away, I am unsure, but it did.

July 2018, when I married my third husband, Roger, after two years of proclaiming that marriage at 76 was stupid.

I am too ashamed to answer.

Tall, arrogant and loving.

“You pinko!” by a Tory minister signing off at the end of an interview with me during the EU referendum campaign.

Fainting as a chorister in Winchester Cathedral in the middle of a service.

Self-centredness.

An all-embracing welfare state.