I've not really had a bad Christmas. Apart from serious things, like when my father died. He rather spoiled the party and I've never forgiven him for falling off the twig on Christmas Day.

I suppose I'm not quite the oldest detective on the block - David Jason is. When's he going to retire and give rest of us a chance?! No, his Touch Of Frost is terrific and a wonderful antidote to the po-faced detective shows around at the moment. Anyway, I can't retire. I have a wife and five chickens to feed.

Guitar is the most expressive instrument in the world. I don't play much any more. Maybe a bit in private.

I don't think anyone takes the deaths in Midsomer as seriously as in say Wire In The Blood or Silent Witness. We're part of the old British 'whodunnit'. We're much more gentle and the deaths are sanitised, in a sense.

On my days off I pick up our chicken's eggs. My wife and I have five chickens called The Spice Girls. Five lovely chicks. And no, we won't be eating any of them for Christmas dinner.