I would have spent more time with my parents. I did see them often, but you don’t realise how much you’ll miss someone or something until it’s gone.

My penchant for having just one too many.

I'd have not sung along with Yellow Submarine in that infant school hall.

So many times I’ve wondered what might have happened to me if I had lost my legs, or even just my right one, where my first melanoma appeared two or three years later. If I’d just been a second slower stepping away from the car, I might not be dying now. I’d be legless, of course, but still in good health. Of these fateful forks in the road are our lives made up. We are all just a millimetre away from death, all of the time, if only we knew it.

Magical, warm, but also butterflies.

When I was seven or eight, I got run over and was actually under the car, which was scary. I just ran out; it was totally my fault. I was fine – all I got was a tiny scar on my knee.

When I was younger, I appeared in the Halifax adverts that featured a cake or a bridge made of hundreds of people. You stood there for three days and were not even really seen.

My mother: she’s an inspiration. She went back to college in her 40s, started karate and became a black belt.

To Jade, my other half, because I can be hard work sometimes, and he is the most calm and understanding person I’ve ever met.

An English teacher, and then a dance teacher.