I was brought up in a world where I witnessed rejection so I knew that people weren’t always going to clap. We moved to India from Birmingham when I was seven as my father ran a repertory company and my parents, who were both actors, told me in no uncertain terms I would struggle if I wanted to be an actress. It was a permanently stormy, nomadic existence with no security, but that gave me the armour to survive when I returned to Britain aged 17.
I was like a blinkered horse for the first few years of my career, so I missed all the hedonism of the late 60s and early 70s. The pill had just come out, so everyone was going off with everyone and the hippy movement was happening, and I certainly saw everybody having a wonderful time with various substances – but I just wasn’t interested.
What you see and how you perceive yourself is not really how anybody else sees you. There are people whose natural state is to worry about things. My natural state is to try not to let things worry me, because I don’t like the feeling of being worried. I don’t like confrontation, because I find that I don’t actually want to upset somebody by being as firm as I want to be. So I do sometimes hold back, but I’m much more stubborn than people think.
I had a few stalkers, but I think everybody did in those days. It was just a couple of people who came to every show and then they followed me home and they were always outside my house. It wasn’t serious, though. One of them was quite a sweet guy. Perhaps he was just lonely. Some people might be traumatised by that, but I think: “Well, don’t be an actress then.” It goes with the territory to an extent. Obviously there are limits beyond which it’s frightening and terrible. You don’t want to be shot and you don’t want to be dragged into the bushes, but I think you instinctively know as a human being what the threshold is.
The honeymoon period with Michael [Rudman] never really stopped. Our relationship is very special, but what I’ve learned since our divorce is that if something intrinsically works you should work at it. We’re back together now, but when we were married for the first time, I struggled with my temper. What I loved most was to throw things round the house – jugs, mugs, anything. I once threw a cup and saucer through the window of the ground-floor flat we were living in and the following morning there was a ring on the doorbell and the porter, looking at the hole in our window, came back with all the little bits and said: ‘I think these must be yours.’ Luckily, Michael has very quick reactions so I never hit him.
I was not the obvious sex symbol – tall, statuesque, beautiful, curvy and good looking. It wasn’t overtly sensual. I only got the sort of appreciation that was comfortable. I never had any problems.
I need at least another 30 years to fit in everything I want to do. I go to the gym four times a week. I do yoga and weights to stay strong and that helps me avoid getting angry and depressed. Family becomes more important the older I get and things like work become less important.
If you’re any good at flirting you don’t realise you’re doing it. I don’t think it’s something you consciously think, “Today is a flirt day.”
