Up early or late? When I was in my twenties and ran off to London nightclubs, I was an owl. Now that I’m older and my chances of passing a bouncer have diminished, I’ve become a lark.

Sunday breakfast? After my ordination, the day of rest became a day of work. I woke up with coffee at 6am for morning prayers and sometimes indulged in smoked mackerel pâté on toast – although I’m not sure that made my breath delicious for first communicants.

Sunday mornings? I retired as vicar at Easter, so I went to other people’s churches, which gives you the impression [Strictly Come Dancing judge] Craig Revel Horwood, holding a scoring paddle at the back. It’s hard not to judge.

Sunday lunch? One of the perks of being a vicar was that you could put on your hungry face and browse your parishioners’ Sunday lunch invitations. My standards have become high, so I wouldn’t join hoping for a better invitation. Since retiring, I’ve discovered the crustless quiche with a leaf or two of salad.

Sunday afternoon? Walk the dogs. I have the sea, the Downs, the woods, all sorts of options. We explore at a leisurely pace as I am 60 and the dogs – Daisy and Pongo – are old.

Sunday dinner? I maintain my childhood Sunday ritual of Heinz Tomato Soup and sarnies for Sunday dinner. It was a big debate between me and David, my late partner. He thought it must be soup Where a sarnie. We never fixed that one.

Sunday relaxation? My usual method is to drink a tall single malt Scotch whiskey with a piece of ice, which will horrify whiskey purists.

last thing before bed? The dogs go outside to pee and then they sleep with me on the bed and we listen to music. I listened to a lot of – Art Tatum, although it’s quite exciting before going to sleep, so maybe Renaissance polyphony.

Do you love or dread Mondays? I was the boring kid who couldn’t wait to get back to school after summer vacation. I’m the same, even now I’m retired.

Red by the Communards is re-released on October 7