"Nothing matters at this point," he says quietly. "That's how I feel. I had to really drag myself here to do these interviews. I'm filled with a lot of grief. It was sudden and unexpected and so I haven't had a lot of time to wrap my head around it. The incredible highs of the year are now irrelevant. I'd give all that up to have her back.

"But I have to keep going. That's what she'd want too. I have all the right rationalisations as to why I should be doing this. But I'd be lying if I said this was easy."

Despite this, he's on good form. Funny, surprisingly well informed ("I've come to have a certain appreciation and love of all things Scottish since you tossed every Tory out of Parliament"), and even more provocative than you might expect. And perhaps because these are emotional times for him, he is more angry and aggressive than on screen, where he affects a kind of avuncular mystification like some anti-corporate Columbo.

It's hard to tell whether he is genuinely seething or using me as a sounding board for material. Probably a bit of both.