On stage in Tasmania, I tripped over a floor monitor and landed on my back like a turtle, kicking my legs in the air trying to get back on my feet in front of about 5,000 people. But when I got on my feet, the whole crowd roared in triumph.

I once asked a young woman if she had ever heard of the musician Laura Marling, insinuating I knew Laura Marling, to which she replied: “I am Laura Marling.”

When I was 17, my friends and I threw a fashion show for a breast cancer charity. Breast cancer is something my mum went through when I was 14, so prevention is very close to my heart. Our singer, who was performing during the fashion show, dropped out at the last minute so I had to step in. It’s on video, and my sister always brings it up.

Having somebody pull my judo trousers down at a competition when I was seven. And finding I wasn’t wearing any pants.

I was born in 1964, in the most working-class area of Liverpool, so the N-word was bandied around a lot.

Love makes me feel sick. I get sick with worry about my kids. It keeps me up at night.

Cowardice. There are so many issues that I would like to express opinions about but I’m too scared to stick my head above the parapet because of the social media pile-on.

Selfishness and cruelty.

To my parents for all the mess-ups. There have been times when I’ve been going through something and I’ve thought, God, I’m so glad my mum and dad are dead, because they don’t have to go through it with me.

A Rolls-Royce. I met my wife, Jackie, when I was filming a Lynda La Plante drama called The Governor. I fell in love with her instantly and I was bullshitting that I had a Rolls-Royce. When I finished filming, she decided to leave her country and come and live with me in London. On the way to the airport, I phoned my PA and said, “Go and buy a Rolls-Royce.”