1. Miss Shields

IN my final year at Notre Dame Primary, we were one of many schools invited to take part in a huge mass choir event at the St Andrew’s Halls. Our teacher, Miss Shields, was responsible for putting our choir together. I liked her as she put on good shows and I got to strut my stuff, which I loved.

She had to choose about 25 from our class of 43 for the choir and asked us to come into the school hall individually to sing scales, to allow her to make her choice. I had it in my head that I couldn’t sing though. I thought I had a terrible voice so never sang and was terrified at the thought of it, to the point that I was crying “please, please don’t make me do it!”

She took me to the piano and said: “Don’t worry.” She played one note and asked me to sing it. She then took me through the whole scale.

Then she put me in the choir. I have no idea, to this day, whether I made a complete hash of it or whether I was able to hold a note. I now know that I can, but I would say that it was Miss Shields who gave me con-fidence to sing and not to be frightened.

2. Twelfth Night in my first year

ORIGINALLY I wanted to be a ballet dancer, and then I wanted to be a nun – all to do with the costume, of course. Then I wanted to be a vet, another stage in what girls go through. Then I wanted to be a chorus girl because, of course, my father (Johnny Beattie, pictured with his family, below) is in the variety business, and I would see all these glamorous creatures in fishnet tights with blue eyeshadow and plumed headdresses.

But when I got to my first year in high school we studied Twelfth Night. It was an epiphany, my absolute road to Damascus moment – this was just so fantastic. I started to learn the speeches for the sheer joy of it, even though my classmates thought I was strange. We didn’t have that awful experience of Shakespeare being rammed down our throats whether we liked it or not. There is so much poor teaching of Shakespeare, with the teacher reading it aloud to a class. Our teacher was much better than that, she gave us parts to play, which I loved.

The first speech I learned was the opening speech by Orsino, “If music be the food of love…”

That was the moment I knew that I still wanted to be a performer, but I wanted to act.

3. Getting my Equity card

I HADN’T been to drama school before getting my Equity card. At that time it was like Willy Wonka’s Golden Ticket – you couldn’t get a job without the card, and you couldn’t get the card without a job.

I did get a job at Perth rep, where Joan Knight would lease the theatre to a variety producer through the summer.

Larry Marshall was the star that year and looking for a second comedy feed. I’m sure my dad had an in-fluence in me getting it, but why wouldn’t you?

That job came with an Equity card, so throughout college I was able to get some paid work.

Then when I graduated I was an attractive proposition to companies who didn’t have to spend any of the few Equity cards they were given each year.

4. Becoming president of Equity

I’VE spoken for so many years about the importance of Equity and how everyone should be a member. After much prompting from friends and deciding that I would have to find the time, I ran for the council. I was voted on and then became vice-president, but last year I became president.

It was life-changing because, knowing what kind of person I am, I knew it would mean giving up vast amounts of my life for the next two years and then being expected to stand for another two years.

I was elected unopposed, which obviously has its downside because people can say, “Well, I never voted for you”, and they’re correct.

But I care massively about the members of our union and I always have – what this has done is formalised that. When you go into a room and say “I’m president of Equity” it’s amazing how people will sit up and take notice, even in comparison to being vice-president.

It’s a tool to make changes and I’m very pleased about that. The former President, Malcolm Sinclair (pictured above), gave eight years of his life to it, and Equity is unrecognisable now to the organisation that he took over, in the best possible way.

He still gives me fabulous advice and I hope to improve things further.

5. The Very Hungry Caterpillar

SINCE childhood, I had had a problem with compulsive eating. I was never bulimic or anorexic, but I would binge and starve myself. I had a terrible body image, seeing myself as a great big fat plain lump, which doesn’t sit well with being a performer where everyone is looking at you.

My first job out of drama school was acting ASM at Perth in 1974, where I shared digs with a fabulous actress called Mary McCusker. She, in a very subtle way, supported me through the whole thing. She gave me a copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar, which has the lovely message at the end of the caterpillar becoming a butterfly. It really made a difference in how I felt about myself.

6. A home on Bute

ABOUT 15 years ago, I managed to get a second home. I had been doing well, with a lot of TV work, so it was the perfect time to go for it. My dad already had a flat there so he sold up and we bought a house together.

I never really know when I can get there, but dad can get there more regularly. He’s 92 now and I’m hoping I have his genes!

It’s a real comfort to me to know that it’s there.

It’s so restful and so peaceful. Opening the curtains in the morning and not seeing a busy London street is great. I love London but looking out on the water with the eider ducks calling to one another and housemartins nesting in the eaves ... It was a wonderful thing to bring into my life.

7. Being saved by Stephen MacDonald

AFTER working at Perth, I did a school’s educational programme for STV, but then I joined the educational touring company at Dundee Rep, where I worked myself into the ground. I now know that I was suffering from exhaustion, but I thought I’d made a terrible mistake and the job wasn’t for me. I went to work for the agency my mother was running and one day the phone rang for me.

“Hi Maureen, it’s Stephen MacDonald, I’m artistic director of Dundee Rep.” I thought: “Jeez, I know who you are!” He said he knew I had given up the business but wondered if I would perhaps consider playing Rosalind in As You Like It. In that moment I realised that the only thing I really wanted to do was act. I was jumping up and down, screaming with delight.

That was the start of an incredible period. I played great leading parts in Dundee and then moved to the Lyceum. If you looked at my CV from that time it was like a tick box of all the leading parts that a young actress would want to play. I was also able to learn from all these experienced actors and actresses.

Steven (pictured above) is sadly no longer with us, but he gave me all that. A great man and a great theatre maker.

8. Fat Is A Feminist Issue By Susie Orbach

THIS book was the final step in tackling issues around food and body image. I wish I could remember who recommended it to me, but whoever it was I thank them. I’m sure it was a fairly new book at the time. I remember I was in Inverness playing Aladdin for Jimmy Logan, which is a fairly revealing role when you think about the typical principal boy costume. I was in lovely digs with a woman called Mrs Patterson, a comfortable and safe environment for me to go through this book. I followed all the exercises and as a result I wasn’t afraid of food anymore. Now I’m not frightened of being away from food or not having enough to eat.

About five years ago, I was doing readings as part of a workshop on post-traumatic stress disorder at the Donmar Warehouse. The panel was chaired by Susie Orbach and I had to tell her what the book meant to me.

I no longer have my original copy and subsequent copies have been given away, but I did ask her to sign my current copy. I said to her: “You must be sick of people saying that you changed their lives.” But she was so gracious and replied: “Why would I be sick of people saying that to me? It’s thrilling.”

9. The Animals film

I SAW this on Channel 4 a few days after it began broadcasting in 1982, and it was responsible for me becoming a vegetarian from that same day. It’s a shocking film about how we treat animals, and after I had seen it, I really couldn’t go on eating meat.

It was such a big change in my life. Veganism might be the next step for me, I’m not quite sure. With the business I’m in, I’m moving around such a lot and I never really know what the facilities are going to be like. It can also be difficult to keep an eye on how you nourish yourself, but it is something I’m contemplating.

10. The Byres Road legend

THERE’S a legend about Byres Road in Glasgow. If you arrive alone and walk up and down there, you will meet someone you know.

I had a friend in my early teens called Jeannie McArthur. We were both in junior classes at what was the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama, but we lost touch when she moved to London.

Decades later I found myself walking up Byres Road. A woman walked past me and she struck me with her elegance.

When I was heading back down I saw her again. She stopped, looked at me and said “Maureen Beattie”. I realised it was Jeannie. She is now Jeannie McArthur Koga and deals in fabrics for scarves, house furnishings and more. We met up in London and have kept in touch. This really proves that the legend is true.