It has come to light that I actually got married in 1986. I was just 16 at the time, so it’s all perfectly above board and legal. It did, however, come as something of a surprise to my wife, who I married in 2002.

It was even more of a surprise to me, especially given that according to the internet I am married to a lady called Pru Goward, who is some 18 years my senior and who is the Minister for Community Services and Women in the Australian government.

I tell you, these long-distance relationships take their toll.

It is, of course, all a terrible mistake, as I tried to tell my wife – my real wife, Claire – when she confronted me with this startling revelation. I mean, if I was married to an Australian MP would I be sitting here under the glowering black skies of a Bradford winter when I could be standing on a sun-drenched beach with a tinnie in my hand, throwing another prawn on the barbie and stamping on Huntsman spiders with my Ugg boots?

It’s all perfectly easy to explain. There is, apparently, another David Barnett out there in Australia, who is also a journalist. And it is indeed he who is married to Pru Goward. Even more co-incidental, they also have a daughter called Alice.

The same internet search also claims that I have written a book about the 90s Britpop band Suede. I haven’t, though I do like Suede. I sometimes get messages on Twitter from people telling me they enjoyed the book. Sometimes I gently inform them of their mistake. Other times I take the adulation. Depends what mood I’m in.

I have written a book, as I’m sure I’ve bored you with before, just not that one. My wife was Googling me to see if I’d been talking a load of cow-muck about myself anywhere when all this nonsense came to light. Such is the curse of having just enough profile to get occasional mentions on the internet, but not so big a profile that people don’t get it all wrong.

Fortunately, my wife knows I didn’t really marry an Australian MP when I was 16. However, now our children have reached an age where they are starting to use the internet more, the opportunities for them to be mortified or embarrassed by me have increased exponentially.

Heaven help me if they one day soon try to follow me on Twitter or friend me on Facebook. They’ve already started using Instagram, something which has thus far eluded me in terms of its usefulness. They post pictures of pickles and ugly babies and lol at each other and their schoolfriends.

Knowing that the internet is 90 per cent full of freaks – for example the sort of people who think I am married to an Australian MP – I have quietly joined Instagram for the express purpose of spying on my kids and making sure no freaks try to contact them.

I just hope that no awkward questions arise about my other wife in Australia...