Mathew Varghese, an orthopaedic surgeon who runs India’s only polio ward in Delhi. He provides reconstructive surgery to help survivors walk.

My friend Josie Naughton, the co‑founder and CEO of the charity Choose Love, which supports refugees and displaced people. She left her job working for Coldplay to dedicate her life to this cause.

My grandson, for taking such wonderful care of me in my old age.

A midwife named Jennie Joseph. She is a tireless activist for women, family health and equal access to quality maternity care.

Now, because of my marriage and because since September 2019 I’ve been free of clinical depression.

I was a waitress at a holiday camp. On a Wednesday afternoon all the guys used to pee into the rice pudding and we had to serve it to the customers.

The people I hurt when I was suffering with addiction to alcohol and cocaine.

Funny, annoying and kind.

Stopping being such a helicopter parent and worrying about these grownup children’s lives. It drives me mad. And I am having therapy. If I could stop thinking that I should be their first port of call for everything, it would free my head up a bit.

Shitting myself in New York last November. I was wearing cream trousers. We were going to see my son Matty and his band, the 1975, at Madison Square Garden, and I was walking through the streets, enjoying the sunshine, pretending I was in some kind of video – throwing my hat into the New York sky like Mary Tyler Moore. I saw a couple of people turn and look at me. Now, although I’m not famous in New York, whenever Matty’s there I do get recognised as his mum, so I’m smiling and waving at them. I went back to the hotel room and bent over to get something out of the suitcase, and my husband said: “Do you realise you’ve shat yourself?”