On a gloweringly grey January afternoon, Peter Tatchell arrives on time, bearing gifts. “Happy New Year!” he says, and hands me the latest issue of the New Humanist magazine (“a rational approach to the modern world”) and a copy of the 2022 Attitude calendar (on the cover: a swarthy hunk/gardener in a pair of Speedos, two sizes too small, pushing a wheelbarrow); perhaps it’ll remind me to go to the gym or do some gardening. I make us cups of tea and cut a couple of slices of cake. He wolfs his down. He doesn’t have to worry. He still looks like a whippet. But he’s in good health (mostly – more of that later); the hair’s thinning a little, and it’s grey – but why wouldn’t it be? He’s going to be 70 next week. 70! I was shocked when he told me. He seems younger than that. Perhaps it’s the restless energy he radiates.