George Clooney was back in Edinburgh, and now that we were firm friends he opted to stay at my house rather than a hotel.

It was a pity that I had to go to work while he visited, but that made no difference to George. He was quite happy to follow me wherever I needed to be, and didn’t mind accompanying me to the office.

The only problem was that whenever we set off to catch the number 29 bus across town to campus excited fans would approach George and ask for his autograph and photos. He was incredibly patient with them, and I admired him all the more for his kindness.

However, I loved George best of all in the knowledge that no matter how long he spent answering the questions of awe-struck strangers, he was mine, all mine – at least for the time being.