Would you say that your new book about George Best, Babysitting George, is also about the nature of celebrity?
Yes. I think what was interesting about George was how different he was. He was superbright, well read, intelligent and curious, but now everything's changed with footballers because drugs are such a big part of the equation. There was something almost pure about George. I've always thought that alcohol and women are the two most natural vices. You can understand them. Whereas now, if you look at Lindsay Lohan or Charlie Sheen, say, celebrity has developed a new sort of weird perversity that I don't think existed back in George's day.

Best seems to have understood how things have changed.
I don't think we tore people down then as much as we do now. Since he died in 2005, that has ratcheted up. People were very
let down by him because he was a big hero, but they also enjoyed his downfall and thought it was poetic, in a way - at least until it got really grubby towards the end.

You were asked by the newspaper you were working for to "babysit" Best. You spend much of the book trying not to like him.
I suppose I went back and forth. When I first met him I had no opinion about him. Then I was instantly surprised by how clever he was and how interesting he was to talk to. If you're a young girl, as I was, and you're sent off to be with someone, the horror is that you'll have nothing to say, yet talking to him was no problem at all. But once I saw him really drinking, he started turning against me. Some of the things he said to me, towards the end, I kept out of the book. He was so full of bile.

Do you think Best's alcoholism had anything to do with his untapped, untested intelligence?
I do believe that if you are highly intelligent you are more prone to alcoholism. People never wanted to talk to George about books or anything like that; they just wanted to relive his greatest goals. You can see the same thing happening with Charlie Sheen today. He's obviously not stupid; he's quite a clever guy. Being forced to play along with the celebrity game when you are quite intelligent would drive you a bit mad - or madder than someone who is just a bit thick and is genuinely enjoying all the silliness that goes along with fame.

Did you ever talk about books with him?
Yes. He was always quoting Oscar Wilde. He'd read Hemingway and was an avid reader of detective books. I think the reason people like detective books is that they test your mind. And he was always doing crosswords.

Do you think Best had any real friends?
His agent Phil Hughes was incredibly loyal and he was one of the big inspirations for the book. He was the one who would come and pick George up when he'd collapsed on the floor. George would pick up strays a lot. He would go to pubs and suddenly appear with a couple of women, or with a bloke who was just completely in awe that he was with George Best. You know there's always one of those people in the pub who is a sort of ringleader, whom everyone wants to buy a pint for because they are just naturally funnier and more charismatic than everyone else there? George was that person, and would have been regardless of whether he was famous or not.

Hughes said once that you didn't have to understand football to appreciate the full glory of Best. Do you think he was right?
Yes, I do. But, having seen him play - my husband is obsessed with football and he'll say, "You've got to watch this replay" - it's like ballet, isn't it?
Those old football games are amazing to watch because everything was less structured. It felt a bit more wild then.

What was the worst moment of your relationship?
When I lost him. I had convinced myself that he really did like me. To betray your trust like that when you're not a girlfriend or a wife, or anyone you have a reason to flee from, is somehow worse. l

Interview by Jonathan Derbyshire
Celia Walden's "Babysitting George" is published by Bloomsbury (£16.99)