My great love, Jimmy, only lasted three years. And it would take me two more years to fall in love again, but this time for real. He was called Charles and he was very handsome! I was 15 years old and he was six years my senior. That was almost adult love! My life at that time was rather complicated. I had to get up early and catch a train to London for my classes. During the day I studied and I also danced. I returned home 'Just in time for super. I wasn't tired but my mother had her own views about this. "I want you to go to bed early. You have weekends to see Charles, but while you're at school, it's bedtime at nine-thirty. And she was inflexible about this.

The weekends ... horror! Only two days. It wasn't too much time for someone as much in love as I was. So we arranged meetings our own way. After I finished supper, I'd say goodnight to everybody and go to my bedroom. And there, instead of doing what everybody thought I was doing, I'd hang out of the window and talk to Charles on my walkie-talkie. Charles would stand on the other side of the street. It was very romantic. Sometimes with street noises and so on, I hardly heard him.

One day, in the throes of his love for me, Charles grabbed some flowers from my mother's garden and threw them against my window. I suppose that because of the darkness and the passion, he didn't realize that the flowers were plants, with roots and all, that landed like a rock in my room.

I thought it marvelous. Very romantic. But my mother didn't think so when she took a good look at her garden the next morning.

So we loved each other during weekends, strolling hand in hand under the moonlight, so peacefully. Perhaps too peacefully for Charles.

I was a good girl, and had every intention of remaining so for a long time. Charles had discovered certain needs which I chose to ignore at the time. And, one day, he left me for another girl who was seemingly more versed in these matters. And he broke my heart.

It took me a long time to recover.

I really don't think I recovered until I met Michael Attenborough. And that's another story.

Returning to Charles, we went our separate ways and he went off to study abroad. Every now and then our parents met and exchanged news. He studied at a top university and Prince Charles was his friend. Things were going very well for him.

Time went by and he came to see me in the premiere of Live And Let Die. I was married but he wasn't. I was very happy to see him, he was delighted about my success. We talked about all our ambitions and the plans we had for the future. He had great hopes. We promised to see each other soon.

But fate had something else in store. He was killed in a car crash the next day on his way to the university. He was 26 years old. It was a great blow to all of us.

Heartbroken by the tragedy, his family decided to leave London and move to the country. I had no news from them in years. When we bought our house in Bath, I discovered that they lived in the same county and that Charles was buried in our church. I was moved. Somehow I had recovered him.