“I’m starving!” declares Marcus Rashford on arriving ravenous — and a half-hour late — for our lunch at The Gilbert Scott restaurant in the St Pancras Renaissance Hotel. 

Rather than sitting in the grand neo-Gothic dining hall, we’re shuffled into a drab private room. Rashford is trying to keep a low profile. At 22 he is accustomed to being recognised as a multi-millionaire star striker for Manchester United, one of the glitziest football clubs on the planet. Yet even the fervour of crowds in the world’s favourite sport, he says, has been no match for “a different kind of spotlight, a different kind of attention” in recent weeks.

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