MET up with Evans last night. The accident-prone one is now a leading light on the esteemed Ham and High Gazette weekly paper, which covers the lives of the rich and famous in haughty Hamstead.
Surrounded by stars, she has received phone calls from the classic actress Glenda Jackson, now a local MP, and watched the Christmas lights switched on by wildman Ronnie Wood. It is a far cry from Cardiff, where the nearest you come to rubbing shoulders with a famous person is to shake the hand of world-renowned tramp Shaky Hands Man, and there are health issues to be considered in doing that.
Rumour has it, by the way, that everyone's favourite street beggar has actually gone to Food Kitchen heaven, though this has not been substantiated in any way and a street-lined funeral procession has yet to be organised.
Anyway, back to Evans. We got together in a little wine bar called City Pride near Farringdon Station then travelled back to her new home in the leafy, picturesque town of Harpenden near St Albans. Very nice it seems, too.
We met up with her bloke Matt in a boozer called The George then, for some unknown reason, carried on the drinking in a less auspicious drinking den known as the Harpenden Arms. From there it was back to her gaff via the kebab house where the extended drinking sesh had bought on an attack of the Munchies.
Eyes being bigger than my belly I ordered an enormous doner kebab and chips but by the time I had stumbled up the hill to her flat my appetite had shrunk somewhat and I only managed about three bites before consigning the coronary-inducing meal to the bin.
Matt, by the way, has a secret Doctor Who room. The Time Lord's biggest fan has stocked it full of dalek figures, Cybermen models and all sorts of other sci-fi paraphenalia. Sad really. He was apparently too ashamed to give me a tour - possibly because he is a bit nervous that his newly acquired status as an editor might be brought into question by his childlike obsession - but I talked Evans into giving me the guided tour.
After that it was off to get the train into work again, feeling slightly hungover. But it was only a 20 minute journey to Farringdon, the sun was shining and I was at my desk by 10. An enjoyable night.