When I was five, I wrote a letter. "Dear Jim'll," it began. "Please could you fix it for me to dance with Shakin' Stevens on Top of the Pops". And I will always have a place in my heart for Sir Jimmy Saville, for not fixing it for me, else I might not be here to tell the tale. I'd be under a rock. Crying. And repeating "green door, green door, green door...."