I've made great friends through acting. When I'm with Victoria Wood and Julie Walters, we have grand fun. We can make each other howl with laughter because we know each other so well.

I left school the day I turned 16, the earliest day I legally could. Determined to follow a life on stage, preferably with some dance connection, I applied for and won a place at the local drama school. I was on my way.

Some people love Sundays; I don't, particularly. I used to rather dread them when I was younger. I was brought up on Sunday roasts, which I've always loathed. If I didn't finish my meat, I had to sit with it for most of the afternoon. No wonder I'm a vegetarian now.

If I look back, my mother was always out. I can remember the perfume and her scarlet chiffon dress and crystal beads, going to a party. She used to play her violin at restaurants later on in life and at old people's homes. She loved the races, which she used to take me to as a child: our carpets were bought with her winnings. Loved her chickens.

Anorexia taught me to love life and to realise that starving yourself to death is a bloody waste of time. It's awful and it hurts so many people around you. It's a terribly selfish thing to do.

I have a horror of boring someone or, worse still, of someone boring me. I said to my mother when I was seven, 'But, Mums, if it was only my husband and me in the house together, what would we talk about?' I've never wanted to answer my own question, and doubt I'll bother now.

I've had to spend an awful lot of my life trying to pretend I'm not posh. Although once I open my mouth, I rather let things out the bag.