When I was little I always thought I was marked out, special, on the verge of something momentous. I used to tingle with anticipation.

The gym is where I get my chill-out time. I try to go six days a week, but when I'm working, that goes down to about three.

When I was much younger, I sometimes felt rejected by feminists because of an image that I sold because it paid the bills. Any fool could tell my hair is dyed.

So many roles for women demand that you make the audience fall in love with you or sympathise with you.

I do still get the odd fan letter about The Good Life, clearly written by somebody aged 18, who says: Will you send a photograph? And I think: Maybe it's kinder not to. I'm deeply into my 50s now.

I hope to start enjoying flirting again when I'm 70, like my mother did.

I don't think, until you've actually lost somebody you really love, that you can go through that door that allows you to be grown-up.