I’d been ‘working at home’ from the National Library of Scotland when I received an offer to meet Katy Perry. I felt that I could spare the time to do so, so followed the instruction to travel to the meeting venue: Edinburgh airport. There I by-passed all the usual checks to cross the tarmac and climb the steps to the star’s private jet. Once on board, I received a very warm welcome from the star. Our first conversation was about her sound system, and the costs of hauling it all around the world.

I understood that Perry was performing in Edinburgh that night, so was surprised when the aircraft engines started up. When an air steward appeared to offer us drinks as part of the standard flight service, I knew that we would soon be waving goodbye to Edinburgh.

‘What’s the flight destination?’ I asked the steward.

‘I don’t know’, she replied, ‘But I can check’.

Katy Perry herself told me that we were on our way to the venue of her next performance: not Edinburgh, but Des Moines, Iowa.

The steward returned and – sure enough – confirmed that our next stop was Des Moines. I confessed that I didn’t have my passport on me. ‘No problem’, she responded. ‘All we need to do is pass the contents of your handbag to the British Embassy on arrival, and hand over your laptop at the airport. Then you will buy a ticket for the first flight back to the UK.’

I was hoping that the millionaire star would offer to pay for my return flight. She did not.