That time I congratulated a waitress on being pregnant.

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.

A gazillion years ago I was in Gucci with Melanie Blatt, and I attempted to sit down on a chair that wasn’t there. I did a full-on stuntwoman backward roll, landed in a ball of the floor and laughed so hard I wet myself. Everybody in the shop moved to a different section.

At school, I got my head stuck in a balustrade on the stairs at lunchtime. I had pupils laughing at me, parents laughing at me, teachers laughing at me and eventually, at the end of the day, the fire brigade laughing at me.

Superiority. I shrink when I’m around people who act superior, whether it’s due to authority or intellect. I almost become mute.

An air steward, because I loved airports. I wrote a letter to British Airways when I was seven and I’ve got the reply in the loft, which says, “You’re a bit young at seven but do stay in touch.” I was that kind of kid who was eager to start the ball rolling.

I assumed that once I reached some level of achievement, I would feel fixed.

Eager to learn.

People have said, “I wish you would die.” That’s the stark truth of being in the public eye – people dehumanise you and say ghastly things.

Picking myself back up after very tricky times and trying again.