Dismayed at the news that I wouldn't be able to dance again, I returned to school and went straight to Beryl Grey, our dancing teacher and the prima ballerina of the school. She didn't seem to think it was a great tragedy. She only said, "But you're a better actress than a ballerina. Don't worry. just change classes." And that's what I did. It was that easy.

We also had acting lessons in our school. I took both dancing and singing lessons because, in order to be a really good ballerina you also have to be an actress. Of course, I hadn't taken acting' that seriously before, but I liked it well enough. I'd received awards for my acting and perhaps Beryl wasn't wrong. So I changed classes. Now it doesn't seem that tragic to me, but in those days I wanted to be Margot Fonteyn.

Franco Zeffirellr was preparing a film. I think it was Romeo And,Juliet. He wanted a young girl like me, with my age and physique. Beryl Grey, my teacher, recommended me. So I went to see him.

Zeffirelli himself took the photos, which I still have in my possession. And it was really strange because everyone started to tell me how good I looked, and how photogenic I was. But now when I look at those photos, I realize that I was a good-looking girl but nothing else.

I believe I'm photogenic and that's a gift from heaven if you're in my profession. But I've never thought of myself as beautiful. I think I'm normal. I 'have certain defects, which I try to hide, and certain qualities, which I try to stress. I'm just like any' other woman who tries to make the best of herself. But those were the first photographs that launched the into my film career.

I didn't get the role. Olivia Hussey did. And it's strange, because when the moment to make a decision arrived, someone showed Franco two of my photographs. He chose one of them thinking, I suppose, that it was Olivia.

I wasn't too disappointed. It wasn't my role, my movie or my moment. I knew that my moment would come sooner or later and I continued my normal life. My first real opportunity was only just round the corner.

I was taking part in a pantomime staged in Windsor when the choreographer, a really extraordinary woman called Eleanor Fazan, told me, ''Richard Attenborough is doing some tests for his film. Would you like to try it?" I obviously said yes. What I didn't know was that hundreds of girls and boys my age had been asked the same question.

I remember that day clearly. It was just like Chorus Line. Six hundred turned up for the role!

They made us go in one by one. Someone called out your name and 'you suddenly found yourself in front of some strangers who judged your work. You could hardly see their faces. You only heard them say, "Very well, thank you. Next one please."

The hours went by slowly. There were less people in the room. Many of the girls had been already eliminated and were collecting their things with a disgruntled air. I was still there crossing my fingers.

Finally, at 6.30 in the evening, after eight hours in that place, Richard Attenborough arrived in person. There were only sixteen of us left for the last test. Richard made us go in and this was the toughest moment for all of us. We knew that he only needed eight of us. But who? Richard was very kind to us. "I want to thank you all for having turned up for this trial," he said. ''You're all wonderful, but unfortunately you all know that I must choose only eight of you. So I don't want to make you wait any longer." He raised his hand and started pointing out. "You, you..." until he picked out eight of us. I was the first one he signalled. And I still don't know why he chose me. I wasn't the best ballerina nor the best singer. I suppose my moment had arrived. And my film career started on that day from that very instant.