Stephanie
Beacham is no longer The Colbys' glamorous,
shoulder-padded vixen, Sable. Nor is she the beleaguered nun in
her short-lived American comedy, Sister Kate. She is very
much herself, looking fresh and sunny but definitely low-key, as
she explains that with 15-year-old Phoebe and 12-year-old Chloe
enrolled in a Somerset boarding school, moving to the US in 1986
hasn't all been easy. But, she admits, it has undeniably been
rewarding financially. Witness her prize possession - the
beautiful, airy beach house which for the past year she and her
cameraman boyfriend, Steven Silver (10 years her junior), have
occupied.
"The
house is on the front in Malibu and the cast list down our
street is OUTRAGEOUS," she says cheerfully. "Stallone,
Dustin Hoffman, Goldie Hawn, Jack Lemmon." Yet this hasn't
thrown her into the star-studded social whirl you might expect.
"It's very isolated, that's the truth of it," she says
with a shrug. "Everyone respects everyone else's privacy.
But I miss having cosy neighbours. I miss having friends'
children around. And I look back sometimes with nostalgia to the
days of long teas and sewing sessions."
Her
very tangible rewards carry another price-tag. Although holidays
are spent together, Stephanie Beacham hasn't entirely adjusted
to being 6,000 miles from her daughters. She doubts she will.
And there are old friends she feels guilty about too. "I've
turned into a lousy letter writer from being a magnificent one,"
she sighs. "The speed of this town, the whirlwind, the 65
phone calls for every event, has meant that some of the niceties
to my real friends have slipped a bit. But I do miss them."
Recently,
she's been busy with the British six-story series Cluedo
(ITV from July 25), and a glitzy role in Jackie Collins'
American mini-series, Lucky. This blockbuster aside,
Stephanie is the first to admit that since Dynasty and
The Colbys ended, the extravagant soap-opera genre has
faded from fashion. She is currently relieved to have a break
from the weekly TV series grind and to be off the absolute
dollar trail. "I'm entirely grateful I now have my
children's school fees and for every farthing that comes into my
house. I'm thrilled about the money. I'm not turning it away.
But I must be proud inside of what I do."
She
loathes the thought of her children being spoiled. "I want
them to have an objective view of their fortune and their
fortunate circumstances," she says seriously. "I want
them to avoid the middle-class, self-inflicted woes of greed,
bulimia, and anorexia. I hope they can enjoy their good looks
and their good health without being vain! I wish them to
understand how wonderful life is - but that it isn't a holiday."
While
she is blissfully happy with Steve Silver, clearly he is not in
her dollar league. This financial discrepancy is "a
complete pain" she's honest enough to admit. "I do
say: 'It's your turn to buy the shampoo'. But it's not because
of the money, it's because somebody's got to be bothered to go
and get it - and it's always the woman, isn't it? Why do men
never replace loo rolls? So what have I just said? Nothing about
money. Perhaps it's not a pain, then. Perhaps it really doesn't
matter!"
