Well, I’m happiest on Martha’s Vineyard, between July 1 and Labor Day, riding my tricycle with Larry Bobo every afternoon and fishing with Buddy Vanderhoop. But I was happiest from my childhood through high school in Piedmont, West Virginia; it was magical. I was sorry when it was time to go off to college.

After the birth of both my children, although Manchester United winning the treble in 1999 came pretty close.

The most unabashed joy I’ve ever felt was that first 24 hours of magic after our son was born in California last June.

I’m pretty happy right now, although the plague is a problem. I got the virus early, and was unwell for two and a half weeks. I was spared the worst symptoms; I realise more strongly every day that I’m one of the very lucky ones.

When I was a teenager, I laughed at a joke I didn’t understand. Whoever told the joke turned to me and said, “What are you laughing at?” Of course I didn’t know and he obviously knew I didn’t know. It was excruciating.

The amazing women standing up against the Taliban.

I’ve always been frightened of the dark. I sometimes wonder whether it stems from being away filming from the age of five. I can remember being devastatingly homesick and having a little nightlight I used to look at to reassure myself things were all right.

Mental cruelty.

Doing an episode of Doctors was a bit of a nadir.

Minding not being liked.