I think it’s so good to abandon projects. I never feel sad about not trying to publish that novel.

As I got up in my 70s, stories began coming to me more and more rarely. I finished the novel Lavinia at 78. I no longer have the stamina to undertake a new novel, even if I wanted to. So, here I am, an old writer who loves writing – what have I got left to do?

No, because I was set for it. My core, my whole life was medicine. I wanted to become a specialist. So for ten years I concentrated solely on medicine. It took ten years to become a consultant in neurology.

You gave a six-year-old boy his Laker dream And I'll always love you for it. But I can't love you obsessively for much longer. This season is all I have left to give. My heart can take the pounding My mind can handle the grind But my body knows it's time to say goodbye.

Pavarotti’s Nessun Dorma. I’m a big sports fan and Italia 90 was such a massive part of my life when I’d just turned 17. That tune just builds and builds. I can imagine a massive coffin disappearing down while he’s singing. What better way to go?

I’m a very happy, fat, bald bloke who sounds like a pirate.

Yeah, I try to make sure Sundays I’m about and present. This weekend he wants to do an apple crumble. We’ll normally do some sort of slow roasting in the morning because we’ll be off to rugby training, and then the afternoon when we get back, it’s all cooked and lovely.

My team.

With friends, it’s good to know where you stand. I’ve surrounded myself with people who are very open. Lots of the blokes I know are very emotional: we have honest conversations.

No, not at all. I grew up on an estate in Gloucester, with no real sense of what I wanted to do, but I was never afraid of hard work or getting stuck in. School didn't always suit me, but when I found myself in a kitchen at 18, washing up, everything clicked. It was the energy of the space, the pace and the teamwork that I fell in love with.