Not applying myself enough at school.

Nothing. Everything happens for a reason.

Nothing, really, because it was all interesting.

Since hostile people still call me a former Playboy Bunny, even at 82, I probably shouldn’t have done that in my youth, even to write an exposé. And since a couple of times they’ve also referred to me as a former CIA agent, because I went to two Soviet-era communist youth festivals, I probably shouldn’t have done that, either. Yet if I hadn’t done both, I might have judged other people by such empty symbols, too.

I used to be an ear-piercing specialist when I was 16, and had to pierce babies’ ears. It was horrendous. I had to practise on my friends – several have misplaced piercings.

For Good, from the bit in Wicked the Musical where the two witches go their separate ways. The lyrics are about people coming to your life for a reason, who might not stay very long, but there’s a reason they’ve played a part in your life. I well up thinking about it.

Scary, because when you really love, it means that you are really scared of losing it as well.

Falling off what we in Middlesbrough call a “tarzy”, a bungee rope. I was swinging on it, fell and broke my arm.

A poster for The Godfather, my favourite film, signed by Marlon Brando, Al Pacino and everyone. I got drunk at a children’s charity auction and started buying everything!

Some famous people. I am not giving you names.