Harpers and Queen, April 2000

Justine Waddell, widely admired for her role as the put-upon Molly in Wives and Daughters, teslls Derren Gilhooley about tight-lacing, blusher, and why she so desperately wants to be a girlfriend. Photograph by Donna Francesca.

Justine Waddell is sitting in a Notting Hill cafe, methodically eating a huge buttery croissant. There is an apprehensive look on her face. On the surface, there seems little for her to worry about. Justine is playing Nina in the RSC's production of Chekhov's The Seagull, and enjoying sensational reviews; earlier this year, she charmed an audience of nine million as the demure Molly in the BBC's Wives and Daughters. And, at 23, she could hardly be expected to have anything like a skeleton in her lavishly costumed closet.

Yet at first Justine answers questions in the evasive style of a scandal-hit MP. Perhaps she has good reason to watch her words. Since being talent-spotted three years ago as a student at the Edinburgh Festival, she has worked with some of the biggest names -- and egos -- in the British acting mafia: Charlotte Rampling in Great Expectations, Francesca Annis in Wives and Daughters, and Harriet Walter and Ralph Fiennes in Chekhov's Ivanov at the Almeida. 'Do be careful what you write about Ralph,' she pleads. It is clear that she feels one careless word could stall her inexorable rise.

This is not going to happen. Justine epitomises the romantic qualities that will always appeal to the makers of costume dramas: thick dark hair, porcelain complexion, hand-span waist, and a pneumatic bosom (which she flaunts in a tight black sweater, stretching her slender arms above her head at regular intervals).

But her sallies into the frigid diplomacy of her older colleagues do her no favours. She risks sounding pompous and boring -- which, it is clear, she is far from being. Once she relaxes, she is quite prepared to laugh about the vicissitudes of making historically correct costume dramas. For one thing, mascara and eye-liner are forbidden ('You have to fight for the right to blusher. And, believe me, I fight.') Justine likes her make-up. Only yesterday, she took a trip to Mac, 'and now... I don't have a credit card.' Experience has taught her it is wise to carry three packets of spearmint chewing gum on set in readiness for her many clinches with her leading men. So what's it like kissing Ioan Gruffudd? 'Well, after the seventh take, the thrill wears off,' she says, witheringly.

'The corsets are the most dangerous thing,' she adds. 'They are sheer pain when they first go on because they are laced so tightly, and, when you take them off at the end of the day, they leave deep marks on your body. I actually fainted on the set of Anna Karenina because mine was so tight. But they are a perfect excuse for getting out of things. You simply flap your fan and say, "I'm sorry but I feel faint and must lie down."'

Isn't she worried about the long-term effects of so much lacing? 'Well, I don't have to diet,' she considers, 'but my hips are shrinking, and I think, "Oh no, how will I have the seven babies I dream of?"'

Luckily, she doesn't have to don a corset for The Seagull: 'I wear bright pink Agent Provocateur under my costume.'

The Seagull also gives Justine her first break from bonnet-wearing in her entire career. 'I just have one huge picture hat that I put on, then take off almost immediately. But it comes with a fabulous hat pin.' She estimates that she has worn at least 40 bonnets in her time. 'I wish I had kept them now. I'd line them up on my mantelpiece as trophies.' Her favourite was one she wore in Great Expectations. 'I really dug it. It was a funeral bonnet covered in black ribbons.' She even admits to bonnet envy. 'I got hugely jealous of Francesca and Keeley in Wives and Daughters. There were scenes in which I had one lonely blue ribbon in my hair, and they would enter the room wearing concoctions of flowers, fruits, birds -- everything. I began to feel underdressed... But I do think I have to cast off the bonnets in my next job.' A major British film would be her ideal option -- 'Preferably something set in the twentieth century. I have been moving that way, if rather slowly. I'd love to do the Twenties, the Thirties, the Forties, or even the Fifties. I'm sure I could do the Seventies at a push. And I'd be happy to swear.

'I loved Wives and Daughters, but there was no novelty in sitting in the back if a carriage,' she adds. 'I'd just like to play a girlfriend next. Wear lots of make-up, hang on someone's arm and ride on the back of a motorbike. Now that would be a novel.'

Surprisingly, for one who has emoted her way convincingly through a succession of passionate roles, Justine remains single. 'I've been too busy for a private life,' she confesses. 'But I'd quite like to have some real-life experiences now. I'd like to fall in love, instead of merely playing someone who falls in love. It would make a nice change.'

The RSC's 'The Seagull' is currently on tour, and previews at the Barbican Theatre. London EC2, on 18 April. Box office: 020 7638 8891.