My French teacher was a big influence on me at Frankston High School when I was in year 9. He taught the class proper pronunciation and I owe him for teaching me the sounds of the language so early on in my life. People still compliment me on my pronunciation.

Dad was very supportive of his kids having experiences in their lives – the more, the better. I moved to London (in the 1960s) to work for the BBC Library. I remember calling my parents to tell them I was marrying a West Indian man I’d met in London [Rupert Montague, known as Monty]. They took that in their stride.

We opened a restaurant, Jamaica House, in Melbourne in 1966. Our child, Lisa, was only three weeks old and we weren’t good to each other at that point because we were both exhausted. We kept it going as long as we could but divorced in 1970.

I got married again in 1973, this time to Maurice. I don’t know why I felt the need to do it [they divorced in 1992], but we do have a beautiful daughter, Holly, now 50.

My mother died quite suddenly of deep vein thrombosis in 1983. In those days, nobody knew about the dangers of air travel and it was a terrible shock. I’d just opened Stephanie’s restaurant and she knew I was writing my first cookbook but didn’t live to see it published. Dad died in 2002.

I am not in a relationship now. I am 83 and these days, while I enjoy the company of lovely male friends, most of them are either the husbands of close friends or they’re gay. I get plenty of hugs from them and I am happy with that. I feel fulfilled in my life.

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