Since I last wrote, I’ve had a really trying time of it, with challenges hurtling at every side of my life – personal and professional. It hasn’t been easy, but lordy I’m proud of where I am now.

In the Autumn of 2009 my life was turned upside down and wrung through a mangle. My brilliant mum was diagnosed with cancer at much the same time as I had to face life as a single parent and make the massive decision to move from town to country with my two incredible children.

As many of you will know, I do not have a good track record with my loved ones and cancer – having lost my beautiful friend Liz to the disease in 2005 at the age of 37 as well as my wonderful father-in-law just 6 months before that. Mum’s cancer came out of the blue and rocked my family to its core. She endured vigorous chemo throughout the autumn and winter and then, on New Years Eve 2009, she had life-saving surgery at the Royal Marsden Hospital. I am beyond happy to be able to tell you that, a year on, she is doing fantastically – she looks wonderful, feels great and all her test results are excellent. I am utterly in awe of her – her grace, deportment and good humour were never compromised by her incredible fighting spirit throughout her treatment and recovery.

Though born and bred a Londoner, to live rurally has been my ultimate dream since childhood. The same time as Mum was so poorly, I both lived that dream – and yet, ironically, also endured something of a personal nightmare. Being a single parent is an anathema to all I have ever held dear, but tragically I felt I had absolutely no option but to go it alone. So, the children and I prepared to move from London to a tiny winding lane in Hertfordshire. Mum was midway through her chemo. And then my house sale fell through. In a bit of a modern fairytale, the wonderful couple from whom I was buying told me I’d be in by that Christmas regardless – and that I could pay them once I sold my house. How wonderful was that? There are some truly good folk out there – and it’s so heartening. Pay it forward, I say. Believe in Karma.

Mum and Dad also moved house – two weeks before Mum’s op, they moved from our family home to an apartment two days before I moved from town to country. Christmas 2009 my family gathered at my new house – with half a roof still missing and no interior doors. Then came the snow and the lane was impassable. And then I ran out of fuel (I’m not on mains fuel, sewage or broadband!). The children and I had no heat or hot water for a week and the wood-burner wasn’t yet installed. Nothing huddling up in bed together, fully dressed, all three of you, and waking up with the tips of your noses numb! It was a good way to meet the neighbours, though, and offers of portable heaters, mugs of hot chocolate and general concern and sympathy were generously given and gratefully received. The snow was so bad that the children’s new school started over a week late. It was Felix and Georgia’s first experience of uniform and Georgia was so keen to go that she sat in the house, in full brown/gold regalia including felt hat, tie and blazer, every day.

A year on, Felix and Georgia are thriving at school – they were quite behind when they started but are now happy, stimulated and achieving great things. The school is wonderful – quite quirky and old fashioned and with a playground surrounded by woods and fields of cattle. At home, the children are absolutely in their element – with woods, streams and fields in which to romp and roam. They always come home ruddy-cheeked, proudly showing off some bump, bruise or scratch from some terrific adventure or other…and invariably they are soaking wet and mud-encrusted too. They now have a four-legged pal who joins them – Twig the dog. She’s an English Pointer and has just turned one. When I was little, I was terrified of dogs but a family friends’ English Pointer (RIP Cleo) changed all that for me. Felix, too, was very very wary of dogs – so I knew exactly which breed we’d be having. He and Twig are true pals and I love the way that the children treat her like a fellow sibling, even telling tales on her!

Our horse, Nathan, is here too – but thus far my children have expressed no interest whatsoever in riding and as I’ve sworn never to become pony-club-Mum I have had to take a back seat on that front. They love the horses to talk to – and remain fascinated by the fact that they eat the WHOLE APPLE INCLUDING THE PIPS AND STALK.

There’s so much that’s new to a child brought up in the city – for example, the first time Felix caught sight of a jet black night-sky bejewelled with a dazzle of stars, he gasped and was really quite overwhelmed. We three often go for ‘midnight walks’ in the woods (well, as soon as it’s dark) which freaked us out at first but is an incredible thing to do – especially if you switch off the torches and just trust your senses. The children can tell the difference between a bullfinch and a chaffinch and can recognize hornbeam, oak, ash, black pine and larch at fifty paces. No doubt they’ll have a right old moan and whinge at me when they’re teenagers stuck out in the sticks – but for now they are happy little souls and I am proud of the life they lead.

During this difficult period, somehow I managed to write another novel. I often proclaim how much I love writing but I have to tell you, I hated every second of writing Chances. To write 140,000 words of contemporary romantic fiction requires a substantial reserve of emotional energy – a commodity in short supply for me at that time. I was physically and emotionally exhausted before I’d written a word – and it took me 6 months to drag out the first 10,000 words. Then, over the summer, sitting with my back to the incredible view and ignoring the idyllic weather, I rattled off the next 130,000 words in three months – which has left me with tendonitis in both wrists. I am so proud of this book – and when I’ve been proof-reading it, I’ve given myself a hearty pat on the back. It’s bloody good – even if I say so myself. I really hope you’ll enjoy reading it.

more dates soon…will keep you posted!

The Spring and Summer I devoted to Secrets.  Do you like the title?  I know it doesn’t have my usual quirkiness, but I think it’ll be a hard-working title.  And it does what it says on the packet…because both hero (Joe the bridge-builder) and heroine (Tess the runaway) have more than a few secrets between them and the book charts their journey on whether to conceal…or reveal…!  I hasten to add, it all ends happily ever after.  Would you ever speak to me again if it didn’t?

Research trips back to North Yorkshire (for this book Saltburn-by-the-Sea…and deepest darkest Middlesbrough!) were a treat in March and June and it was a joy to follow in Tess, my heroine’s footsteps.  I remember getting the same buzz back in 1999 when I returned to the Tour de France having already written the bulk of Cat.  It becomes wonderfully confusing how life suddenly imitates art, instead of vice versa.  In Saltburn, seeing the Italian Gardens develop from precocious buds to a burst of petals a few months later was lovely.  The tide was in.  The tide was out.  Every inch of the beach was strolled along.  And of course I made my customary, ice-cream lickin’ walk, to the end of the pier.  We spent Christmas up there too – and we took some stunning pictures.  I’m very excited about the extra material I’ve supplied for the back of Secrets – I think you’re going to love it – value for money, I say!  I’ve written you a long essay about my love of the North East and my research up there for Secrets.  Added bonus: it is illustrated with lots of my own personal photos.  There’s also a larky Q&A too!  Well, Secrets will be in the shops early May – but if you’re going abroad before then, it’ll be available at the airports from March.  I hope you’ll love it – you will write to me with your response, won’t you?

Outside of work, all is well in the world of Freya.  My children are terrific.  Felix will be 8 this coming April.  He is now in Year 3 and really enjoying school – especially his guitar lessons which he takes very seriously.  I never have to tell him to practise – he’s strummin’ and tappin’ his toe first thing in the morning.  Lego continues to enthrall him at all other times.  I think I’ve just about managed to kill off Ben10 in my household, though I’m still tripping over those wretched GoGos.  Dreadful, dreadful.  Felix was very funny at breakfast time recently.  He asked if I’d pour him a glass of water.  Then he looked at me and said “Or shall I get it Mummy – to save your muscles?”.  Charming!

Georgia turns 6 in a couple of weeks.  She never fails to amaze me with the things she says.  The other night, tucking her in, she turned to me and proclaimed sorrowfully: “But Mummy!  There is someone my heart breathes into who is not here!”.  I hadn’t a clue what she was on about….until she rather huffily tutted and explained in plain English that “My Teddy is downstairs!” !

Nathan the horse is rising 8 and he and I continue to be thrilled, moved and utterly stimulated by Parelli Natural Horsemanship.  The marvellous Jackie Chant came over from New Zealand over the summer and it was profound to study under her again.  The Parelli conference at the NEC in August was a true celebration of natural horsemanship and it was great meeting so many like-minded people and hearing their tales.  Nathan is such a character.  I know people say “if only they could talk” – but I’m telling you, that horse doesn’t need to say a word – I know JUST what he’s saying…and sometimes he’s a cheeky bugger, I can tell you!

We have two new members of the household too – having lost Martha the cat last January at the ripe old age of 16.  Just after Christmas, Buddy and Flower came to live with us.  They are from our lovely local rescue home (North London Cat Rescue).  Buddy is a handsome ginger&white 18 month old tom, and Flower is 12 weeks, black&white.  They were so shy at first – now they spend most the days sleeping and most the nights engaged in an almighty hoolie going absolutely doo-lally up and down and round and round.  They adore the children – when term started last week, the cats did not budge from Georgia’s room until she was home again at tea time.  One morning, I heard Georgia say “Ooh Buddy, look, you’ve become a tabby!”.  It was true.  He was as grey as you like – not a glint of ginger anywhere… It transpired he’d spent the night in the fire place and was COVERED in soot (as was most the house….thankfully, I’m not one for cream sofas or pale carpets!).

We had beautiful and happy times in Spain again, in April, May-June, July-August and August-September.  We don’t have TV there – and none of us notice.  The kids are always out and about with their cronies (hi Jack!  hi Leila!), in and out of the pool, eating al fresco on the patio and being first in line for ‘The Croissant Lady’ when she brings her mobile shop in the morning!  I so love it there – not least because I really allow myself to unwind and an essential part of that is being able to read, read, read.  Catherine O’Flynn’s “What Was Lost” and Patricia Wood’s “Lottery” were my favourite books last year. Evenings are lovely – Andy and I just sit out on the terrace, listening to the iPod or the cicadas, and we chat and chat or have backgammon tournaments (which usually end in violence…) over a bottle or two of ice cold San Miguel (ok, or three or four).  Such a welcome change from the tendency to slump down in front of the TV, with supper on our laps, after work!

On a more rock and roll note, I danced away and sang myself hoarse at great gigs by the Charlatans (in Kentish Town in May) and the mighty Mr Springsteen (in Cardiff in June).

The autumn was spent industriously, putting Secrets to bed.  Editing.  Copy editing (you really can’t use the word ‘discombobulated’ more than twice in a 140,000 word novel, you know).  Proof reading (which makes me dizzy) and then meeting after meeting perfecting the cover design, the lettering, plans for the marketing campaign.  Very shortly, I’ll be posting up the brand new cover look – totally different to what I had before.  And very lovely!

So here I am in mid January and before I knuckle down to my 11th novel (title: “Between Two Women“) I’m going to have a breather for a month or two…and maybe a little foray into something completely different.  But that’s all I’ll say about that for now!

On February 4 th, we all turned up mid morning at the Royal Garden Hotel in London’s Kensington for non-stop interviews and photos. Then we had to somehow force lunch on top of the butterflies in our stomachs, and sit still during the speeches before the envelope was opened. I couldn’t believe it – even though my publishers and agent were jumping for joy around me. I just sat at the table and thought “she said WHAT?!” before my editor said, “go on – up you go”. Helen Lederer was wonderful, she put her arm around my shoulders and lead me this way and that, whispering ‘smile for that camera’ or ‘grin at them’ before saying ‘right, go over there and say something’. It was nerve-wracking, but I took a moment or two to compose myself (and compose what to say!) I thanked all the right people and grinned like an idiot. Most lovely of all was being able to dedicate the award to my late friend Liz and to donate the prize money to Cancer Research UK in her memory.

I’ll work backwards in this journal entry…

Christmas was fun, in London and Yorkshire as usual. Felix and Georgia were opening their stockings at 4.30 in the morning – but their Dad and I had purposefully used rolls and rolls of selotape so it took the kids a good long while to unwrap everything! It was great that the weather was chilly enough for a roaring fire (in front of which we all fell asleep). In Yorkshire a couple of days later, we were almost swept away by the rain – we wanted to go to the waterfall, High Force but the road was flooding before our very eyes and we managed to turn around just in time (we could see in the rear-view-mirror the car behind was stuck!).
New Years Eve was quite a low-key affair at our local – the rather fabulous Maid of Muswell pub.
One very sad piece of news was saying good bye to Martha our lovely, soppy old tortiseshell cat who had been a constant friend to me for over 16 years (as well as a very comfy pillow for Georgia)
November saw me turning 40, which still makes me giggle as I remember my Mum turning 30 and she was far more ‘grown-up’ at that age than I am at this!

Autumn was spent settling Georgia into Big School (which she now loves – and what an earnest little student she is) as well as trying to settle down to my new novel, trying to keep Nathan the horse fit and happy, trying to find after-school childcare, starting Tai Chi classes…the usual!
We fitted in a trip to Spain just before my birthday, which was lovely, having spent the summer on and off out there. The kids’ swimming is amazing – they’re pretty much self-taught and their confidence in the water is a joy to behold. Georgia still prioritizes showing off her collection of swimwear before she leaps in…

August saw the launch of Pillow Talk – on the roof terrace at Soho House. The Tanzanite Foundation had leant me the most beautiful jewellery to wear – and I splashed out on the most gorgeous Repetto shoes, which were half price in the Liberty sale (however, I doubt I could have resisted them full price anyway!) They are silver Mary-Janes and, even better, give me an extra 3 inches in height!

In July I did a week long Parelli Level 3 course (natural horsemanship) with the wonderful Jackie Chant who’d come over from New Zealand. It was incredibly challenging – there were tears from me and tantrums from Nathan – but all in all it was an incredible experience. Pat and Linda Parelli came over from the USA with their horses and I had an amazing time (along with everyone else) at the conference in August at the NEC Birmingham. Natural horsemanship hasn’t just enhanced my life – I feel (and I’ve been with horses since the age of 7) that only now am I inching closer to being the owner/rider my horse wants me to be. Bareback and bridleless – nothing compares!
I also took a research trip up to the North East as part of the new book is set in the seaside town of Saltburn. As many of you know, the new hero is a bridge builder – so I went to see the Transporter Bridge in Middlesbrough. It was early one Sunday morning and who should happen to be there watering the hanging baskets? The Bridge Master. He invited me up his bridge…and invitation I really couldn’t turn down, despite being scared of heights. It was incredibly nerve-wracking walking over what was basically a grill 180 meters over the River Tees. A big thank you to Bridge Master Alan Murray! There’ll be a cameo in the new book, I can assure you!

At the mo’, I’m beavering away on this book which I hope (need) to have finished by early summer – keep your title suggestions coming in. The themes are ‘building bridges’, running away, facing your demons, a sense of place, and home not being where the heart is but how a house can provide a home for that heart.

I hope you enjoy the new pictures – and feel free to enter the competition – a signed copy of Pillow Talk is up for grabs. I’ll write again later in the Spring – but for the time being, all my focus will be channelled into the new novel. Keep in touch – your emails are wonderful to receive.

Around this time, I am involved doing publicity for my forthcoming publication. Even though we are still some 3 months off the launch date, the glossy monthly mags close their issues around now. I find it SOOOO difficult to write articles – and find short stories particularly arduous. Give me 120,000 words any day…! So far, I have written a short story for Woman & Home magazine and an article for Red Magazine. That was a funny one – they wanted me to write about my ‘inappropriate’ (i.e.: cringingly embarrassing) crush. Well, I’m not remotely embarrassed to admit to a long-standing crush on Laurence Llewellyn Bowen – and the object of my affection swiftly became the subject of my article. Hope you’ll enjoy reading it – and having a laugh at my expense! The only trouble with these ‘extra-curricular’ pieces is that it takes me away from my novel writing. I find I can write four chapters in the time it takes me to write an 800-word opinion piece…
Readers often ask me what I’m reading, what I enjoy watching and listening to. So I thought I’d take the opportunity to tell you what’s beside my bed, what’s on my Sky+ and what’s in the CD changer in the car. I’ve now read everything Laurie Graham has written and all I can say is, hurry up, Ms Graham – I want more! At the mo’ I’m reading a fantastic novel called The Year The Gypsies Came by Linzi Glass – set in South Africa, about a volatile family and some mysterious visitors. I recently finished Midnight Cactus by Bella Pollen, which was a very atmospheric novel. I am looking forward to taking the new Maggie O’Farrell book on holiday, The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox – I think Ms O’Farrell is a genius. And for a little light sun-lounger reading, I’ll have Paige Toon’s Lucy in the Sky next to my bottle of factor 8 and my glass of sangria…
Aural pleasure at the mo’ is provided in spades by Mark Ronson. My lovely friend Jo and I went to see him last week at the fabulously wacky Bloomsbury Ballroom. The vibe was fantastic – everyone was dancing. And I don’t mind telling you that Mark Ronson himself is particularly yummy. I’m not so sure about him having Robbie Williams cover the Charlatans “The Only One I Know ’ though. It’s one of my all time favourite songs and transports me back to a brilliant few years living in Manchester. Arlo Savidge, the hero in my new novel Pillow Talk, is a musician-turned-music-teacher so I had great fun trying to imagine some of his music appreciation classes. He covered all genres from Mozart to Camper Van Beethoven, from the Mamas & Papas to the Dandy Warhols, from Schubert to the Who – even Jethro Tull are in there! It’s cost me a fortune to quote all the lyrics (authors are responsible for paying the copyright in these cases) but I hope you’ll agree the choices are appropriate.
With the astronomical price of babysitters here in the city….and my parents having rather inconveniently buggered off to Rome for a month, I find I’m staying in watching loads of DVDs. Entourage (oh Vinnie Chase, I love you) and Curb Your Enthusiasm are big hits with me and I readily admit to being utterly obsessed with The Sopranos and House. Hugh Laurie never particularly registered on my radar – until some genius gave him an American drawl, a stroppy personality and a limp….and now I’m smitten. Being a horse lover, I once steered clear of any dramas about the mafia because I assumed (from The Godfather) that there’ll be a decapitated pony at some point. However, then I bought the box-sets of The Sopranos and now I feel like those New Jersey wise guys are my family….In fact, if there’s a scene with the FBI lurking somewhere, I start yelling at the telly “Tony! Tony! They’re behind you!”
When it comes to TV, Wednesday nights are top…Property Ladder, Grand Designs, Desperate Housewives and then The Apprentice recorded earlier. Four hours of square-eyed joy with a glass of wine, a bowl of tortilla chips and a good pal for company (hullo Jo).
So, now you have a little glimpse of your author off duty… From Kevin McCloud to James Gandolfini…my evening’s entertainment is guaranteed!
Thanks so much for sending me all your lovely emails – and I’m chuffed so many of you have picked up on the new look of the website. Glad you love it too! I’ll try and update the journal by the time Pillow Talk is published – but my genius website designer Luci may just be a little preoccupied as her first baby is due this summer. Congrats Luci!

Well, it’s nine months since I last updated the website (sincerest apologies – though I reckon you’re used to my tardiness by now, aren’t you!). I think back to how horribly full of sadness 2005 was for me and those I love most. In comparison 2006 was comfortingly mundane. I wrote a book, published another and planned a new one too – so actually, it’s been a pretty busy and fulfilling 12 months. As you can read in the ‘Latest News’ section, Home Truths has been a wonderful success and it still gives me a good old grin seeing it everywhere from Tescos to my local independent bookshop here in Muswell Hill. You know, it may be my 8 th book but it still tickles me that people with whom I have no connection whatsoever buy my books. I used to assume that only family and friends, and family friends, and friends of friends of friends would buy them! Well, I’ve long looked upon you lovely loyal readers as firm friends of my characters, so in some ways, I suppose it is true!

I spent most of 2006 researching and writing Pillow Talk. Don’t you love the title – considering that the story revolves around a sleepwalker and an insomniac who, through falling in love, put their pasts to bed and finally get a good nights sleep in each others arms. I loved researching jewellery – specifically tanzanite (the heroine, Petra Flint, is a jeweller). And as part of the book is set in the North York Moors (the hero teaches music at a fictitious boys school), it was wonderful to take research trips up there. It is due to be published early August.

I find titles the hardest thing in a books production – I’d rather write 120,000 words than think of a title. For a while, the book was called Rock Solid, then it was called Sweet Dreams. But now it’s Pillow Talk – which is spot on. When I was first to be published, the two books I’d already written were untitled. When my agent suggested Sally and Chloe I was bowled over by how astute and imaginative he was (good job my characters were called Sally and Chloe…!) Love Rules as a title was the brainwave of Maxine at Harper Collins. I love the ambiguity of whether one hears it as ‘love rules ok…’ or ‘the rules of love…’. Interestingly, most women go for the former and most men the latter. What does that tell you?! Poor old Home Truths was going to be lumbered with the title Sisters which I hated to the point of actually weeping down the phone to my agent! The working title for that novel was Family Matters. Again, Home Truths is, I think, just right. Now we just have to think up a title for my tenth novel…

My tenth novel is going to feature a house and the lives and loves which have gone on, over the years, within its walls. Do email me any thoughts on a title…a two-worder, please! A whopping great prize if I use your suggestion.

When I’m not writing I’m busy being Mummy. Felix is now in Year 1 and enjoying being such a grown-up school boy. He loves writing and spells words in his own phonetic way. He can’t pronounce ‘th’ so often writes an ‘f’ instead. I made him a puppet theatre over half term and he spent ages writing a lovely sign:

Felix and Georgia’s Pupit Feutr. Tikits for Sayl.

(a very good show they put on too).

Georgia, who is a whirlwind of energy and contrary feistiness at home, is the model pupil at her nursery school – quiet and attentive and always looking after “the younger children”. She’d rather we’d called her Aurora at birth, she reliably informs us.

Now, I know how you expect me to witter on about haircuts – so here’s the news. Georgia had all hers chopped off into a page-boy bob and looks like a child of the 1920s – gorgeous. And I’ve ditched the ‘conker’ hues and am now mousy and proud. And I’ve ditched the length in favour of a very short crop. In fact, as you’ll see from the photos, I look like the love child of a pixie and a school-boy. Oh well, I’m going to be 40 this year so I may as well throw caution to the wind and have some fun before I go for the blue-rinse bouffant… I distinctly remember my Mum changing her haircut when she turned 30. She went from long, straight hippy locks to an enormous afro. Actually, she looked more Leo Sayer than Marsha Hunt and I do remember wondering if it really was my Mum or just some wacko woman with wild hair claiming to be her (I was 9 at the time).

While we’re still on the subject, I’ll let you into a little obsession of mine – horses’ tails. Even in this dire, inclement, mudfest weather, my horse’s tail is joy to behold. And here’s the secret: nimble fingers and Cowboy Magic. It’s the most divine smelling gel. And it also costs an arm and a leg. So while Nathan’s four-legged mates careen around the fields with tails sodden with earth and God knows what, my boy ponces around with his knot-free tail floating like wafts of silk. Nathan and I have had a great year – I just love doing my Parelli natural horsemanship and I train with the magnificent Alison Jones. Felix and Georgia have also started riding. I have sworn never to become a ghastly pony-club-mum so up until now I’ve been more than happy for the kids just to come up to the yard with me every now and then. They are fascinated by the fact that horses eat apples WITH THE PIPS and carrots with the ukky tops. They are also enthralled by the fact that this is the one place in the whole wide world where they are allowed to tread in poo. Anyway, recently they started riding little Shetlands called Dancer and Ruby and I’ve attached a couple of pix for you to ooh and ahh at.

We had some great times in Spain in 2006 – most special of all taking Gary, Eve and Nell (my late friend Liz’s husband and daughters) with us on one trip. Andy tried to teach Gary and Yours Truly to dive but we were beyond useless! We’d teeter at the edge of the pool, our faces wracked with concentration, asking Andy “yeah but do we go for a 45 ° or 37 ° angle?” and he’d laugh and say “just fall in on your heads”. We thought Andy quite mad – and we’d go for the belly flop in preference to falling in head first. Felix, though, would stand alongside Gary and I and do these perfect dives straight down into the pool, cutting straight into the water like a flying fish. Fancy being shown up by a 5 year old! I’ll try and master diving this summer. Or there again, may be I’ll just buy a fancy lilo with a drink holder and a little outboard motor… Summer seems so far off, writing this as I am in blustery January. But once I knuckle down to my tenth novel, I know time will fly.

Liz was perhaps the most sociable – and widely loved – person I’ve ever met. She made friends with such ease and people gravitated to her because she was such fun, so energetic and daffy and sensitive and kind. She was a member of a reading group – though she was usually far too busy and scatty to ever actually read the book in discussion! One time, she picked my 5th book, Fen, as her choice for the group. Sure enough, an hour or so before the group was due to gather, Liz phoned me for the low-down on the plot, the characters…and the ending!I am a member of a reading group too, though the books usually take a backseat to the M&S comfort-food and free-flowing wine. However, I did choose Love Rules for my group – because I’ve never been in a situation where I’ve been grilled about my work, or been able to hear differing opinions about it. Luckily, the girls were gentle with me – and all had enjoyed it (or so they said). In the autumn, I was a guest speaker at the South Tyneside Readers Day. This was similar to book group in that the audience had been given the book in advance. It was really stimulating for me – the readers knew the work inside out and made some really cogent points. In my group there were around 30 readers and the average age was probably pensionable…but Lordy what a feisty bunch! On occasion the air turned quite blue in our seminar room!
Also in the autumn, we launched Ladies Night – the last of the ‘Girls Night In’ anthologies that I’ve been involved with. I must say, I DETEST writing short stories – I find them sooooo difficult. How on earth can I cram a beginning, a middle and an end into just 3,500 words? I’d much rather have 125,000 words and 12 months to play with….
Home Truths was an a difficult book to write. For the first time in 8 books, I found the actual process really arduous. I won’t give anything away, but suffice it to say, Django is poorly. I suppose, the fact that life was imitating art, whilst I was writing, made it psychologically rather draining. In addition,
Love Rules was such a cinch to write – honestly, I would sit at my keyboard and feel little more than my characters’ typist – as if the entire book was being dictated to me. In contrast, Home Truths was actually more of a slog. Three heroines to juggle, sad things befalling them, characters I know so well but could not assume that all readers would know them too. I am proud of the end result and hope you’ll like it.
Now I’m raring to go with the ninth novel, about a jeweller called Petra Flint who sleepwalks, about a beautiful tanzanite passed down to her, about a musician called Arlo Savidge whom she once knew when she was a school girl….I can’t wait to see where this book takes me! I’ll keep you posted.
On the home front, my children fill my days (and usually hourly intervals during the nights) with their madcap chatter and beautiful view of the world. Felix started school locally and loves it. He has some wonderful little pals and the teachers are magnificent. There isn’t a uniform but Awful Mummy thinks there should be so I bought Felix a set of dark blue trousers and sweatshirts and light blue aertex shirts etc. Luckily Felix has little interest in sartorial matters and is happy to wear what ever I leave out for him. He doesn’t seem to notice that all his pals are in Spiderman tops and Timberland boots while he’s in John Lewis navy and sensible clumpy Start-Rite.
Georgia is a different matter. We have big battles where colour-coordination is concerned…and apparently sandals in midwinter and dressing-gowns worn over mermaid-costumes are open to discussion! She’s very very funny and very feisty too. She and Felix are chalk and cheese but they are no.1 in each other’s fan club. Sometimes I come across them simply sitting in the bedroom holding hands listening to an audio book, or lolling over each other in front of the TV.
A relatively new four-legged addition to the family is the very gorgeous Nathan. I went back to my riding a couple of years ago after a three year break. At that time, I tried to be all nonchalant with my old trainer, Souki – about how I wasn’t going to get emotionally involved and how I just wanted to ride when I felt like it and was no longer bothered with grooming and bonding etc. Souki humoured me. New to her yard was a very young Irish Sports horse who’d only just been backed. I rode him and of course fell in love with him though I was still playing the aloof card…until the day she told me someone else was coming to try him out. I couldn’t text her fast enough to say “I’ll have him”! So, the little-horse-with-no-name became Nathan (don’t ask – I don’t know…he just looks like a Nathan) and he’s a superstar. I’m not doing any competing this time – just enjoying him with no agenda. We’ve been doing lots of Natural Horsemanship which is so incredibly eye-opening and rewarding and I’ve really enjoyed doing Parelli courses as well as seeing Mark Rashid when he came over to the UK last winter.
Felix and Georgia love coming up to the yard as it is the one place in the whole wide world where they’re allowed to tread in poo. They put on their wellies and run to the muck heap saying “can we jump on this poo, Mummy?” They also think Nathan is madder than Mad Jack McMad because he eats his apples with the skin on AND the pips in one big gobble.
So, 2006 looks like it’ll be as manic as 2005. My daily routine is to take Felix to school, drop Georgia at nursery, peg it up to the yard to school Nathan, bomb back home to collect Georgia, change out of my minging jodhpurs, zoom off to the library, do 3 hours work before collecting Felix, do another three hours work until it’s bath-time, story-time and then, good lord, it’s already nine-o-clock news time!
I want to take this opportunity to say that I hope 2006 will be a year of health and happiness for my loved ones. And for you lot. And I want to say, to the women who are reading this page, please please please look after your health. Don’t take it for granted. We all think we do the right thing because we buy organic food and keep fit and don’t overindulge. But if your GP writes to you and says your smear is due, please go. Please. Do it for my lovely friend Liz.

Blimey, a year’s worth of news to update you with… how on earth can I do this in less than the length of a novel? Well, I suppose I’m lucky that, because I’m now just a boring old frumpy mum, I have relatively little scandal and skulduggery to recount. Rather than give you a month by month breakdown, perhaps I’ll tell you about the key people in my life.
Felix was 3 in April. He is a trainspotter. I don’t mean he simply likes trains. I mean he is a true obsessive. With a nice navy anorak with a train badge on it for proof. He knows his coupling pins from his connector rods, his tenders from his flanges, his branch lines from his overhead cables. In fact, you’ll often find us at Alexandra Park station on a Sunday morning standing on the platform with Felix waving to the trains as they make their way to and from King’s Cross. A big hullo to any of you who travel the Route of the Flying Scotsman who wave back. Also a big hullo to any of you who frequent Cassiobury Park in Watford. Yes, Felix is the kid who simply never gets off the Miniature Railway – in fact, I’m hoping they’ll bring in season tickets… He’s also cost me a small fortune in Brio wooden track and the Thomas the Tank Engine characters. I’m sure we now have the definitive collection – all bar Fergus and also the Smelting Yard – though Felix informs me these will be available early next year. At least I know what to buy him for his birthday… Such is Felix’s passion – and off-by-heart knowledge of Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends – that he changes his name on a daily basis according to which engine he feels he is that day. Today he is Murdoch. Yesterday he was Rheneas. Tomorrow he says he’ll be Peter Sam. He calls me Emily (because she’s the posh green engine). He calls his father Skarloey (because he’s ancient). However, when it comes to his little sister Georgia, he likes to call her Nicole. “Why Nicole, Felix?” I asked, “I don’t think the Rev. Awdry wrote about an engine called Nicole?” Felix looked at me as if I was dim. “No – she’s not an engine, Mummy,” he explained, as if to a dim wit, “I call her Nicole because she has short legs.”
Georgia does not, I hasten to add, have short legs for her age. She is now 21 months old and sweet as pie. She’s incredibly feisty and chatters nineteen to the dozen. She toddles around with her hands on her hips, occasionally breaking into a spontaneous song-and-dance routine. She’s endearingly strong-willed. Sometimes, she’ll only eat breakfast if she’s wearing wellies. She insisted on red Start-Rite shoes this season, though I tried to suggest blue. She loves her handbags – actually, they’re mine and bloody nice, pricey ones too – but Georgia has appropriated them as her own and I’m powerless to protest. She’s very girly – but that’s probably because I rarely have her in trousers. While I’m still able to exert some control over what she wears, then frocks, skirts and cardies it is!
Where Felix is blonde and blue eyed, Georgia is much darker and hazel-eyed… and guess what,
I’m now brunette. I was feeling particularly melodramatic early in the autumn and I flounced in to a local salon proclaiming “Conkers! I’m thinking conkers!” with a toss of my head. Luckily, the colourist is used to us histrionic Muswell Hill types and after a blissful two hours in which I read every issue of Hello, Ok, Closer, Now and Heat – recent and out of date – my hair was indeed the colours of conkers.
Andy just about noticed I’d gone from blonde to conker. But, as he admits, he’s a northern bloke and they don’t notice things like that. (To say nothing of not noticing things like there’s washing to hang out or nappies to change or nowt int’ fridge…!!) We had a bit of a drama during our summer hols to Spain. Andy herniated a disc and ended up in Spanish hospital for a week (on quite staggering amounts of valium and morphine – to say he was away with the fairies is an understatement.) He was then stretchered back to the UK. The disc, unusually, squirted upwards, rather than out to the side, and it’s impinged a nerve associated with the right leg. Andy currently has NO knee-jerk reflexes and poor bloke walks with what I’ll kindly call ‘a bit of a stilted gait’. It’ll take a few more months before the spring to his step returns. I have to admit I’m not a very good nurse – I started off nice and caring with a gentle line in ‘there there’ and much tender mopping of fevered brow. However, before long I was muttering “pick it up yourself, Hopalong”.
When I first started writing – giving up my PhD in the process – my alarmed mother would oft proclaim ‘darling – but when are you going to get a proper job?’. My father has never read beyond the first 21 words of Sally – because the 22nd is a bit rude. Anyway, you may have noticed that I dedicated PIP to my parents. Well, this autumn has been wonderful because my ma and pa celebrated their 40th Wedding Anniversary. They really are the most romantic couple – still handy-holdy after all these years. They organised day long celebrations for family and closest friends. We took a boat along the Thames to a gorgeous restaurant and then back again. Andy made a great compilation of music from 1964 and my folks and their pals jived their hearts out on deck – much to the amusement of my brother and I… and the throngs of tourists lining Tower Bridge and the Embankment. The day ended in a screening room in Soho where we all had a picnic supper and watched a private showing of Casablanca. Here’s to you, Mum and Dad – can’t wait for your 50th!
Finn. Well, who would have thought my lovely pony (I don’t know why I think of him as a pony when he’s actually a strapping 16.2hh Belgian Warmblood) would come back into my life? You may remember that I came to the tough decision to sell him in 2002 because I’d bought him as a young competition prospect before I was pregnant with Felix but soon found I simply couldn’t coordinate my commitments as a pregnant Mummy, writer, rider. However, I’d asked his new owner to give me first refusal if Finn was ever to be sold… and that call came in March! Well, I’m a softy and though it was daft and impractical, of course I had him back. Though I hadn’t seen him for a couple of years we had a very sweet reunion. I put him back with the lovely Lyn Jones at Coldicote Sports Horses (where he’d been before) which is just far enough away for me not to be able to pop up the whole time. He went into training (he’d had quite a lax couple of years) and it was as if suddenly everything started to click – his body caught up with his brain and vice versa, judges fell in love with him and he quickly qualified for the Winter Championships. Recently, I let him go again (with first refusal of course…) and I’m chuffed that his fabulous new owner Jackie also happens to be an avid reader of my books! She has given Finn a gorgeous home in Yorkshire – so best of all, I can give Finn a hug en route to visiting Andy’s family. There is a new boy in my life, a young Irish horse called Nathan – but I’ll tell you about him next time.