Suddenly I was 33, and something told me to give up smoking — I used to smoke 40 a day. Then Jo came back from Paris and announced that he thought our relationship was stable enough to have a child. I got pregnant almost instantly. Jewel in the Crown was enormously successful in America, which meant I was earning more money than I'd ever dreamt of, and I didn't work again until Ellie was 18 months old.

I was the first natural birth at St Thomas's, and it was a very hairy 17-hour experience, with the doctor clacking forceps at me. I was very surprised Ellie wasn't a boy. Jo was away working, so I'd take the baby for long walks and got to know this extraordinary little person.

When Ellie was two I felt there was something missing from my life. It was acting. It wasn't about not wanting to be a mother, but I needed to work again.

I did Merchant of Venice in London with Dustin Hoffman, who insisted I also did it on Broadway. He arranged it so that Ellie, who by then was four, went to the same school as his daughter, and I had a flat in New York. But Jo didn't like New York, and when I got back six months later, we had to sort out our relationship. From then on, I only wanted to have more children. But it just never happened.
I spent years believing I was going to get pregnant any minute. But I didn't. And that was really tough. It was all I thought about. Jobs became unimportant to me. I'd think: "I won't have to do this play for long because soon I'll get pregnant."

At one point Jo and I considered IVF. But then we thought: "We have this wonderful child. If this process doesn't work, what might it do to Ellie?" At 50 I still thought I was going to get pregnant — I ended up having to have professional help; I had to mourn my unborn children.

And Ellie is such a joy in every way. People say to me: "Four's the best age" or "Ten's the best age..." But for me, every age Ellie has been is better than the age she was before. And now she's this young woman, and we go off for adventures that are inspired, I think, by our New York trip. We went to see Munch in Norway, and to Morocco. And I go to Manchester to visit her at university.

Ellie is quite a private person. When she was little and I was famous, we'd go shopping in Asda and someone would ask for my autograph. I think she found that very embarrassing. Some people would say to her: "Are you going to be an actress like your mummy?" But nobody had said to me: "Are you going to be an alcoholic like your mummy?" My mother was an alcoholic, and we grew up not knowing what was going on. We'd find bottles and pour them down the sink, but my father never said: "Your mother is an alcoholic." I felt it was our problem; I felt amazingly guilty, as children do. I think my background and Jo's made us try very hard to make things right with Ellie. We felt our parents didn't listen to us enough. My father definitely thought children should be seen and not heard.

I know the fire I went through forged the person I am. My father really didn't want me to be an actress. It was my headmistress, Pam Wilson, at Downe House school in Berkshire, who really encouraged me to go to drama school. There's something in me that needs to be an actress. But I don't think striving for success in a profession is necessarily a good thing. Success? So what!

My life has all been a battle, and Ellie hasn't had that battle — which might not be good. She hasn't been rebellious. But she can get frustrated with me when I won't let her go. When I offer her her bus fare she'll say: "For God's sake, Mum, I'm fine." At one stage I said: "Shall I buy a flat for you?" And she said: "Mum, I'd rather live in a squat than in a flat you've bought me." She regrets that now! Ellie has a vision. She's a quester.

She has an absolute desire to be her own person, which I admire. But I want to say to her: "Don't go away completely." I think she will travel, though, and work abroad — because I put that in her.

ELEANOR: I love my mum so much: she's fun, she makes me laugh, and she's very generous. Sometimes when we're arguing, we'll just start laughing.

I've always been very proud of her. When I was young she was much more famous than she is now. When she did Band of Gold on the telly, in which she played a prostitute, I wasn't allowed to watch it. Some of my friends saw it and they'd say: "Your mum's a prostitute." I'd want to say: "Just shut up and stop being horrible about my mum." People would come up to her in supermarkets and say, "You're that bird off the telly," and I didn't like that. I felt quite protective of her.