Which moment embarrassed you most?

Playing a pregnant woman, and not being able to find the padding - I shoved a cardie under my dress, and spent the whole play walking around with a sleeve dragging along the floor.

Walking with Eric Clapton’s tour manager Mick to meet Eric backstage, and when I met Eric I said, “Hi Mick.” I wanted to die.

I was in Kensington Gardens and this couple stopped me and said: “Hey, could we get a picture? I said: “Sure.” I put my arms around their shoulders, and they looked at me and said: “No, can you take a picture of us?”

On stage in Tasmania, I tripped over a floor monitor and landed on my back like a turtle, kicking my legs in the air trying to get back on my feet in front of about 5,000 people. But when I got on my feet, the whole crowd roared in triumph.

I was doing a photoshoot right after an awards show and I was talking about someone whose makeup I really didn’t like. I said: “She’s gorgeous, I don’t understand how a makeup artist could encourage that?” And the makeup artist on the photoshoot said: “I did her makeup.”

Do you have 10 pages? Once, I was dancing in a costume that was like a corset. During a move, the corset ripped and exploded, and I had to carry on doing the number practically in my jockstrap.

During the technical rehearsal of Aspects of Love in 1989. They told me it would be discreetly lit because I was paranoid about being in just my pants. I walked on and every spotlight in the building followed me round the stage.

My paso doble on Strictly Come Dancing would be hard to beat.

Eight or nine years ago, I disgraced myself in the Japanese ambassador’s home in Dublin, at a celebration for my late mother-in-law’s book about living in Japan. Afterwards, when I had to apologise, she told me it was the worst night of her life and, because I was drunk enough not to remember the details, it will never not be the most embarrassing night of my life. People are filling in details even now – “Remember when you fell under the table during the first course?”

I once found myself chatting to a big handsome bloke at a party in Oslo. I said, “And what do you do?” “Well,” he said, “I am the king.” Being a great wordsmith, I zinged back, “Oh. Errm. Cool.”

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.

The idiocy of going to Skye from New Zealand in April 2020. All of a sudden, I’m turning on the news and hearing myself as an item. I have never been more mortified.

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?”

Being called upon by President Bush to ask him a question at a press conference when I wasn’t there. He called my name … and there was no response!

Bumping into my male boss at a nudist beach.

The Fake Sheikh did a sting on me once and the News of the World headline was “Craig Charles is an evil drug-pushing monster”. That wasn’t good on the school run, I’ll tell you that.

I once threw up on the shoes of one of my vocal heroes, the Deep Purple singer Ian Gillan. He sent me home in a taxi with a towel.

I was followed by a mob of fans when I was doing a photoshoot in Paris. When I signed autographs for them during a break, one remarked: “Who the fuck is Harlan Coben? I told you it wasn’t Bruce Willis.”

Years ago in a safari park in South Africa, and getting all dressed up for dinner. Walking across the lawn, I didn’t realise there was a swimming pool that hadn’t been lit and walked straight into the shallow end fully clothed. It still haunts me. I remember trying to get out as if no one would notice.

When I was 16, my dad got drunk at the Oval cricket ground and harangued Sir Garry Sobers, possibly the greatest cricketer of all time, because he didn’t agree with who he’d given as man of the match.