When I think of the risks I used to take when I was younger it makes me shudder. Living in London, which was unfamiliar to me, aged 16, accepting lifts off complete strangers, not knowing for sure exactly where they were driving me to. I would never, ever do these things now, but back then it just never occurred to me that I might be in any kind of danger. I suppose naiively I thought everyone thought and had the same sort of mentality as myself. There was one incident which was a wake up call for me though. I was actually 24 at the time, so not exactly a kid either. In the Manchester Evening News a professional artist was looking for female models to draw. We spoke on the phone and he sounded dead on. We arranged to meet in the centre of Manchester a couple of days later in a cafe in the afternoon, and we swapped details. He showed me his portfolio of drawings and I showed him my portfolio of photographs. We discussed terms and what he was looking for etc. The following week, he had given me the address of where to go. I thought it was going to be a studio, so I was surprised it was a flat in West Didsbury. No worries. Inside the flat he completely changed. He told me he had never met anyone like me before, had never met a professional dancer and that he was in love with me. Major, major alarm bells , right there. He locked the flat door and put the key in his pocket. He said if I just stayed with him in his flat for long enough he was convinced I would eventually start to feel the same way about him. I knew by this stage he wasn't right in the head. I kept calm throughout and kept trying to reason with him. Just because I was an ex Paris Showgirl didn't mean anything and it wasn't real, that my job was in reality an illusion. I was trying to make him understand I was just an ordinary woman from a council estate, who picked her nose and farted like everyone else, etc. He was having none of it. He kept trying to move nearer to me to kiss me. I did try and lift the phone to call the police at one point while he went into the kitchen, but he came back in too quickly. Then I heard someone come into the flat downstairs and slam their door so knew I had to take the chance. I screamed at the top of my lungs. Bless his heart, the man downstairs flew up the stairs and banged on his door until he had to open it. I told then man this man was pretending to be a professional artist and he had effectively kept me prisoner in his flat with him for hours. He asked me if I wanted him to phone the police and I said no, I just wanted to go home. It was about 9.30 at night and I had been out for hours. The weirdo man was all upset and apologetic and insisted on walking me to the bus stop. Just as we got to the bus he grabbed me by the arm and said he wasn't going to let me go as he thought he was in love with me. I screamed again and the bus driver let me on, locked the bus doors and notified the bus security people back at headquarters. They messaged the driver asking if I wanted them to call the police. I said no. I just wanted to get home. Besides, apart from keeping me prisoner for hours, he never harmed me, and I would imagine the police telling me how stupid I had been to go to a virtual strangers flat in the first place. The whole incident freaked me out though and I never, ever did anything similar again. But on first meeting him he seemed great and perfectly normal, and I thought I had done all the right things in being cautious. You just never know.