My mum - and my granny and I - would close the curtains, turn on the TV and snuggle up and watch 'Come Dancing.' It was actually my granny who was the biggest fan; she loved the show, and she passed on her passion for it to me. I loved the dancing but also the frocks and the glamour.

I grew up in the Fifties, and the majority of people in my class had fathers living at home. I was very aware that I was in the minority. I had a foreign name, and my daddy didn't come and pick me up from school. I felt like an outsider, which probably helped me as an actress.

I'm pretty good at getting things out of the way, especially paperwork. I hate it sitting about, as it somehow weighs me down.

I just want a quiet life. I think that's what everybody says when they get older.

I've been a single parent for a long time. It reminds me of being a waitress. As you walk back to the kitchen, requests come at you from all sides. You're doing the job of two - you have to be highly organised.

There's something about 'Strictly Come Dancing.' Everywhere I go, people wish me good luck; cabbies toot their horns. It's lovely. I have a theory: in straitened times, there's nothing like a bit of unapologetic escapism.

I really enjoyed staying at an encampment at the top of a hill in the Samburu Reserve in Kenya. You reach it on a small plane; there is no electricity, no city noises and you sleep and shower under the Milky Way, with moths fluttering around a kerosene lamp, knowing that there are elephants and lions roaming free in the valley.