It is a truth universally acknowledged that only a foreigner (like me) can have such a ridiculously romantic view of England. I am at my happiest when in England, especially now with Wimbledon in full swing, the sun shining and Pimm’s flowing. When I a …

I have decided to try my hand at an internet bestseller. It worked for 50 Shades so why not? This is not going to be badly-written porn though, rather more in the Enid Blyton vein of writing. Let me know what you think…. Chapter One “What is the naug …

I am getting old. The reason I know this is not the wrinkles or the aches and pains, but that I have discovered landscape. Landscape was a word that used to make me switch off as soon as I heard it. I found people droning on about land (yawn) scape was …

“Would you be angry if I covered a lacrosse pitch with loo paper?”This slightly leading beginning to an email was sent to Rupert yesterday, and alerted us to the fact that Bea had been up to mischief at school. The girls have settled in enormously well …

I wrote this article in 2007 for the Sunday Times. Denise died earlier this month and I am posting it with much sadness but happy memories of meeting her. When Irene Némirovsky was sent to Auschwitz she left behind a hidden literary sensation – and a l …

It was impossible to predict how I would feel once back home, having left my three children behind in England. It has only been two days but so far I feel rather flat. Their rooms of course are a constant reminder of them, and I am going to have to tra …

I once met Mrs Thatcher at the British embassy in Paris. The year was 1989 and I was staying with my friend Iona, the daughter of the then ambassador. He is a lovely man called Sir Ewen Fergusson, who was and remains my idea of a perfect ambassador, ta …

One of the things I hate about France is barking dogs. It seems that wherever you go, even somewhere as isolated as Sainte Cecile, you will hear some poor dog yapping in the distance. If you live in a village, you will probably hear a cacophony of dogs …

It all started with an email entitled ‘worried’ from my mother. No one had heard anything from my father for two days. “He’s not answering the door, or the phone,” she wrote. “The lady who lives below him hasn’t heard anything at all. And he’s locked t …

A few days ago I sent my latest novel to my publisher. The last thing I write is the dedication and then off it goes, no longer just something sitting on my laptop, but going out into the world, almost with a life of its own, and you can only hope it s …