So far, my health is good and, while I was sick over two weeks ago, I self-isolated, just in case. I’m less stressed than I’ve been in years and I’m sleeping better, too. My bedtime treat is a glass of hot oat milk with a shot of brandy. If, one day, I don’t wake up, you’ll know I went contentedly. Stay safe, everyone. Stay sane. This is New York, New York. We’ll make it here.

Mum enjoyed being a mother. She told me many times that when I was born, she just wanted to be alone with me and she was distraught when the nurses took me away when they needed to show the other mothers how to bath a baby; apparently, it was because I was so well behaved. I suspect herein lies the root of my obsessive-compulsive disorder about cleanliness.

“OMG!” she cried, opening my Instagram page. “You’re in Influencer!” Who knew it? I still have no idea what she was talking about, but they left happily. Joe Allen are quite keen that during these quiet times, I sit in my favorite corner, dishing out relationship advice. They suggested calling it Jaci Unhinged. Nothing new there.

Originally cast as a grieving widow in the warm church, I was demoted to one of a hundred starving peasants in the freezing January cold outside when they saw how short I was. Hating the stain the make-up department had put on my teeth intended to make them look rotten, I’d been to the toilet and wiped it off.

I quickly realised I was not a fan of oysters, but found that if I covered them with the onion red vinegar, black pepper, Tabasco sauce and lemon, I could just about get them down. In fact, I might as well have just cut out the middle man and had the drink in the shell. In my first month in Paris, I lost three quarters of a stone consuming mainly champagne and oysters; it’s still my favourite diet of all time.

I was always Gaggie Nennens to Dad, just as I would always be the little girl who was never old enough to cross the road by herself. Well into my twenties, when I went home and would venture out for, heaven forbid, a pint of milk, he would warn: “Be careful crossing the road.” When we went for a drink, after two minutes he would be wiping his eyes, as if he had never even recovered from the fact that I learned to speak.