that’s the whole point. I absolutely loved writing that book because it was new and different.” She seems unphased by the constant demand to churn out new material. The manuscript for the next instalment, a three-part series set at a time of real political conflict during the troubles in Ireland, sits neatly on her desk in a crisp A4 pile. I don’t know how she does it, I say, slightly in awe, to which she replies “Neither do I… it’s so funny!” What’s her secret? “I’ll tell you exactly how to do it,” she whispers conspiratorially. I’m all ears. “Get some music that inspires you… I downloaded the music from Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit when I started writing and it just took me to Connemara. Music touches you on a very profound, subconscious level and I think that’s where inspiration comes from – that part deep within you. You’re not thinking ‘how can I write a story that’s successful?’ or ‘what are the themes that people like?’ If you are being stirred by the right piece of music, the creativity will flow and you will write something from your heart. “Once I’ve found the music – something sad – I light a few candles and close the door. Make sure the room is warm, and that you have a cup of tea and some biscuits to hand. Put some tulips on your desk – make it really lovely so that you want to go back there because that’s your space. And then just let yourself drift; see what comes into your head. I never know how the story is going to finish when I first begin. I just know where I’m going.” She makes it sound so easy and we lose track of time imagining various plots. There’s no doubt that Lighthouse’s protagonist Ellen is based loosely on Santa’s own experience. “But most of [the book] came from my imagination because, touch wood, I’ve had such a charmed life. I haven’t had great
unhappiness yet – I say yet because I don’t want to tempt fate.” She left the blue-blooded cocoon of her childhood to teach English in Argentina at the age of 19, although she certainly wasn’t running away from her family (her mother is of mixed Anglo-Argentinian origin while her father is a British Olympian skier). She’d held jobs at Ralph Lauren and Theo Fennell before becoming one of the country’s bestselling authors (with more than three million books sold worldwide, and counting). She converted to Judaism to marry Sebag – as she calls him – at the Liberal Jewish Synagogue in 1998 and the ketubah boasts the signature of none other than The Prince of Wales, it being the first Jewish wedding he’d ever attended, as well as the first time he and Camilla had appeared in public as a couple. Her dinner party regulars include Samantha and David Cameron as well as the rest of the Notting Hill set, but she doesn’t take any of it for granted, or too seriously. “I’m not going to sit next to Michael Gove and talk about education. I talk to him about, you know, my latest fad diet or something – normal human stuff!” Santa’s office is on the top floor of their home while her husband gets the bigger space with the plush view of the garden: “It’s like being in the engine room while he is at the front of the boat!” They write all day and often meet for lunch downstairs – “I’ll just nibble on a lettuce or something” – but, amazingly, he hasn’t read any of her books. “He never reads my work,” she says. “In fact, he’s only ever read one book of mine – that was the first draft of the first book when I was 25. And I’m 44 now,” she smiles. “He’s so busy with his own writing that he doesn’t have time [for mine]. Also, my books aren’t the sort of thing that he would naturally read, so he thinks that by
“I never know how the story is going to finish... I just know where I’m going” talking through plots with me, which he often does, that that’s enough. I would love him to read one of my books because I would like him to see what I do now. I’ve come a long way since then, so I would actually like him to read one and say ‘wow, Santa, that’s really good’. “I‘ve read all of his work. The only ones I didn’t read are his Stalin books because I’m not interested in Stalin at all – in fact I find him really creepy – so I don’t want to read about that world, it doesn’t appeal.” We discuss the sense of worth we both felt upon finishing Jerusalem, one of Sebag’s most famous historical tomes, which was made into a three-part BBC documentary. “It’s huge isn’t it,” she laughs, comparing the its weight to that of the table in front of us. “The thing with Jerusalem is that you