https://youtu.be/l7qiH9U7_CI - if the video doesn't work...

a(recording of me and my daughter singing in the bath)

Many years ago now, almost a lifetime ago, I lived in a popular holiday resort in Spain - mentioning no names, for reasons that will become apparent.

I was a dancer in various clubs and made the mistake of befriending a guy, who turned out to be quite a high level gangster. Nothing physical happened between us... I found out he had a girlfriend and said I wasn't interested. All of my friends thought I was insane; he was good looking, had money, power and could make my hand to mouth existence (that all the seasonal workers lived) much easier. But I've never been interested in that kind of quid pro quo type arrangement.

Unfortunately he didn't fully accept me turning him down. There were a variety of benefits to his ardour; I got into anywhere I went free, would often get free drinks and food and no one ever messed with me. If a holiday maker got too familiar and was harassing me, they would be dealt with but the flip side of this was that when I was interested in someone, they would be warned off by my gangster admirers heavies.

I had countless conversations with him about this, reminding him that he had a girlfriend and that I was a free agent. Told him to stay out of my affairs but he wouldn't listen, said he was protecting me and that I should be grateful.

I ended up having a fling with a guy, under the radar, it went on for a good 6 weeks before I was found out. When he did find out, the guy in question had already gone back to Italy (a very handsome Morrocan guy - my gangster friend was half Morrocan and half Spanish) so he could do nothing about him... He had seemingly been told by one of his friends and because he was the last person to find out, it made him very angry, humiliated, in the way only a man who views women as his property would.

One night...I got told that he, let's just call him Barry for the sake of ease, had found out about the dalliance I had been having in secret. I got told to watch my back... I ignored it... Walking home after my shift at work, at about 5am, a van pulled up, the side door opened, two guys in black with masks jumped out, bundled me into the van, blindfolded me, tied my arms begin my back. I knew it was Barry. I tried to plead but then a voice just spoke in Spanish and told me that he wasn't here yet, we were going to meet him. I remember one of them said something else that I didn't understand and they both laughed... I felt... Utterly terrified on one hand but on another just thought, haha, if this is IT, if this is how I'm going to die, in the middle of no where, in the back of beyond, killed by a jealous gangsta, so be it. And felt oddly emboldened and bolshy. I began to sing 'these are a few of my favourite things'. One of them hit me really hard across the face but the other one shouted at him that Barry had said no one was to harm me. So I continued to sing. Oddly, a year later when I saw Dancer in the Dark (great film) that's what Björk sings as she is going to get hung...

When the van finally stopped, I got dragged out, I could tell we were in the mountains because of the air quality. I then got marched a few hundred yards and forced onto my knees. I felt the barrel of a gun against my head... I just laughed and said "really Barry? Is this what you do when you don't get your own way? Its like a baby chucking his toys out of the pram"

He then shouted at his mates to drive off and removed the blindfold. He put the gun under my chin and told me that I had humiliatiated him and he couldn't allow that. I really thought that was going to be it I didn't shut my eyes though, I just stared at him. We held that gaze for what seemed to be an age... I almost felt sorry for him, he was like a child, a petulant child that had always gotten his own way and was having to finally come face to face with what it felt like to not... He then told me I had 24 hours to leave Spain, for good and never return (I have since but would make a point of staying away from that area just in case). That he had made it hard for me to leave but if I tried hard enough I would get out. Told me the police would be looking for me now, that they had found drugs in my room (that I assume he must have had planted, if it was even true) and that the rumour was that I had been working as a prostitute too, that none of my friends would speak to me again. Told me that I could have had everything but I threw it in his face so instead he had taken everything. Gave me my passport and told me to find a way of getting out. Said that I'd proved how resourceful I could be.

I walked (half ran) to a little village I knew up in the mountains, where a friend of my mother's lived. I'd visited them initially when I'd got there. They sorted me a flight and took me to the airport. They were great, didn't ask any questions despite obviously getting that I was in a bad state.

And yes, I lived to tell the tale, although no, have never been back to that part of Spain and to be honest, have no desire to.

The song, my favourite things, will always hold a special place in my heart for me and is one I sing with my kids from time to time...yea, they are 2 of my favourite things in this whole world but beyond that, they could quite easily not be here if things had gone slightly differently... it's a bizarre thought and idea...and yes, quite a thing to have had a gun held to my head. Looking back it seems unfeasible that I didn't just have a total melt down and freak out but perhaps there just is that part of me, through all that I've been through in my life, that is able to cope under high pressured situations, because I've had to all my life. Who knows, maybe my reaction is what saved me...