Right
now there is a lot on Stephanie Beacham's mind. At this moment,
it's Chloe, her daughter, who needs a new leotard for her
ballet classes as only a seven-year-old can. And with Chloe's
gentle and charming persuasion her mother finally understands the
true gravity of the situation.
Then,
of course, there's Connie, a new Central TV drama
beginning next month, which has been dubbed the "Dynasty
of the Midlands". Stephanie Beacham plays the ruthless and
bitchy fashion boss in the title role. It's a good, strong part
and a spectacular change from her last TV appearance as upper
crust Rose in Tenko.
Connie
is a flawed person, says Stephanie. "Aren't we all, really?
She's a princess of the streets and a rat. She can stoop as low
as anyone possibly can. And I love playing that sort of person.
"I
mean, I think I know who I am and I'm a very nice person... and
an old cow bag," she adds bluntly. "But I think it's
fascinating to pull out the nasties."
Also
on her mind is a recent house move to Hampstead and the
education and upbringing of her two daughters, Chloe, 8, and
10-year-old Phoebe. And another, somewhat more difficult poser
of life and death. For Stephanie Beacham believes she has
experienced both. At 36, stunning, she sits in her kitchen
dressed from her sweatshirt to her sneakers in palest blue. She
is given to long pauses between her words and attaches a steady
thoughtfulness to each one. She tells, with simple honesty, of
an event which has changed her life.
"I
was ridiculously ill last summer," she says. "I'll
tell you, I nearly actually died. And..." she pauses for
some moments before continuing slowly, "I passed over. I
passed through. And if I genuinely believe that that's what I
did, then I have to accept that I have seen there is an
after-life.
"I
saw a huge light... I'm afraid I even saw cloaked figures
leading me," she says. "I was being led by someone
whose face was human but my attention was focused towards the
brightest light I have ever known. It was completely
unfrightening, inviting, and I was going.
"The
only thing that suddenly came in close-up was a picture of my
daughter Chloe's eyes. A really deep close-up. And I welled
backwards. It was like replaying a film and I thought, 'I'm not
going... I'm not going... I'm not going...
"I
regained enough understanding to realise I should be back in the
hospital. I came sinking back into my body and was able to press
the emergency bell. I was operated on within a very short time."
Understandably,
the telling of this story is not easy. But the impact of that
experience has equally understandably, changed her outlook. "It's
fascinating," she says, "because it happened. It
wasn't a dream. There are some things you know and I know,"
she says firmly. "The repeating of the words on my lips may
lessen the story but the truth of what I went through is
undoubted.
"And
it opens up a whole load of things, all of which have to be
answered. Last night I was deep in my Bible because I've got a
huge poser on the whole of my spiritual life."
That
momentous event however, has been the mark of a new beginning.
Her
career really started in 1974 with a starring role and a nude
clinch - opposite Marlon Brando in The Nightcomers. "I
had it on a plate," she says. "People really wanted me
to be a star. I didn't want to do it. I thought it was very
superficial and I wanted to be an actress. "
She
married fellow actor John McEnery and had their two daughters
before their marriage crumbled in the face of McEnery's
reputation as something of a womaniser.
"Thank
God I kept on acting," is her view now - especially as she
has discovered an ambition she never knew she had. "I feel
I want to find out how good I am," she says. "And I'm
greedy to learn as much as I flaming well can before I lose what
I've always considered my best friend - my brain. I'm greedy for
all of it. Why not?"
In
many ways, she is thankful for every experience, good and bad.
She says: "Last summer my house was burgled, every piece of
jewellery was taken and most of my decent ornaments. I had a
total break of heart in a relationship - he wasn't English and
he was pulled off by his family. And then I nearly died. Now I
call that a clean-out myself," she says laughing. "But
I'm grateful for the fresh start.
"Everything
has been revalued. I've got quite lyrical over the sound of
children's voices and sunshine and flowers. You try nearly dying
- it's dead good for you," she adds with a mischievous
smile.
"I
think I'm exactly on target for the moment. I have a very
uncomplicated life now. I have no deep misery in me - my husband
is a dear friend, in and out of the house, and he's just great.
The kids are straight and on course. You couldn't ask for a
better part than I'm playing. And I've got a lovely boyfriend..."
Her
boyfriend is a 27-year-old actor. "He's smashing and I'm
lucky to have someone as kind as he is. I like to have my fella,"
she says. "That does not mean I want to have his shirts and
underpants in my washing machine. Or him lounging around the
house when he doesn't feel like shaving. I'm quite a female
chauvinist pig about that. I'll put my lipstick on, clean my
teeth and say to my man, please wear a collar and tie and have a
shave, too, while you're about it.
I
don't want a live-in; no way. I won't go into details but I
think I've tried most combinations," she said with a gentle
smile. "Priorities now are the children, my career and
calm. The three Cs.
"If
it weren't for my daughters, maybe my boyfriend and I would be
living together now. But you can't screw kids up like that -
it's not on."
The
difference in their ages is of no major concern. She laughs and
says "I'm afraid I've hardly gone out with anybody over 30
for the last six or seven years... I don't know where they're
all hiding."
Certainly
the term "toy-boy", generally associated with an
effort to hang on to youth, is totally inappropriate here. She
is slim, utterly elegant and composed. Her voice, is deep and
calm as she enunciates each word with the precision of an
elocution teacher.
"In
some ways, though, the age-gap worries me," she says. "I've
lived a hell of a lot, and, inevitably, I've learned from it. On
the other hand, another person has another set of values and
another wisdom, so they counterbalance."
Her
views on marriage are straightforward and cynical. "I don't
think we have it right in the West," she says. "I
almost believe in arranged marriages. I think here we are
brought up on some strange combination of Walt Disney and
dumb-thinking that causes us to feel that when we get that
stirring in our loins for someone, it's going to keep us with
them for the rest of our lives. It's dumb. I believe in
fidelity. I see no point in being with someone otherwise.
"If
I get married again, and I can't imagine it would be for several
years," she pauses, remembering, "I'd have to get
divorced first. We just never bothered. But actually, I can't
see it. Between buying this house and selling the other, I've
managed to put my kids' school fees away so I won't have to go
into a marriage for economic reasons."
Is
that how she really sees it? She nods fervently. "Yup -
security," she says, obviously amazed that other people
haven't always known it. "I think it's an economic
contract. I don't want any more babies. My two are quite enough
and I love them very much. There is a sadness in knowing that I
won't have any more," she admits. "On the other
hand... I won't have to stay up all night."
And
anyway, she knows all she needs to know. Running down the stairs
on her way out, she yells: "I'm the best mother in the
world - do you know that?" She had it on the highest
authority - her daughter had left a surprise taped message to
tell her so.