Autumn
There is a small group of my friends who celebrate our significant birthdays within 18 months of each other. Celebrations started last night for the first of the Sixtieths, and will draw to a close in 18 months time with my own special birthday. I like the number 60. In fact I have decided that rather than use the epithets of the late 50s, for the next 18 months I shall respond "approaching 60" when questioned about my age. My agent of course has beaten me to it. Not in terms of her own age, but given the fact that she's been putting me up for roles of 60 and over for at least the past four years. But then I've always played older, and I don't have a problem about ageing up. I'm not worried about losing touch with my inner child. In fact he emerges every day-just ask my partner! But I don't have any fear approaching what my friend Janet referred to in her birthday speech last night as "the autumn of our years". It is not the first time on