I was flying out to Tuscany, Italy with half a dozen friends in June - one of those cheapo flights that cost five and thruppence ha'penny (for those who remember old money). So who's occupying the aisle seat next to my friend - not by chance you understand, she spotted him in the departure lounge and being a bit of a tart for famous actors she'd negotiated herself next to him. Well, yes, England's very own dark and brooding one, Clive Owen.

Well, she was a bit of a fan of his, having been particularly keen on a recent stage production he'd starred in. We discussed this production - Joe Egg - loudly while Clive buried his head in a magazine trying not to be noticed and get drawn into our conversation.

However, Clive was en famille - had wife, small daughter and some other friends with kids in tow, and looked the picture of domestication, not at all 'rough and tumble' especially when, due to lack of space, he proceeded to change his daughter's nappie in the aisle next to my friend. (OK so it wasn't full of anything nasty, but his daughter, who was walking and talking, complained that it was falling off her!!) My friend is not at all the mothering, child-loving type - more your go-getting London top lawyer lady type and the sight of 'rough and tumble' Clive attending to his child put her right off him LOL!! To such an extent that later in the week when I spotted the wife and child in our local supermarket - Marcello's the best vino in Monterchi, only 8 euros for 5 litres!! - my friend didn't seem at all excited that pretty Clive must being staying in the vicinity! She said quite definitely that she'd 'gone off him after the nappie incident' and completely ignored him when he appeared on the same return flight.