I was determined to get my stories
told while there was someone still awake to listen...
I
was born in Worthing, Sussex, the youngest of three sisters. My
early memories are of seagulls crying, sand between my toes and
the salty tang of the sea. My mother was ill, for as long as I can
remember in and out of hospital all the time. I think this drew
the three of us together. We were all fond of painting and reading.
We used to tell each other bedtime stories. As I was the youngest,
my turn came last, and before I had properly begun, my sisters would
be fast asleep. Even the cat would be asleep. I sometimes think
this is what made me become a writer. I was determined to get my
stories told while there was someone still awake to listen. |

|
| I
attended local schools, first in Worthing, then in Devizes, where
we moved when I was ten. I then studied at the Oxford School of
Art, but left before I finished my course. This was at the time
of the Second World War and things were going badly for us. I can't
pretend my joining the army made the slightest difference to the
progress of the war, but it made an enormous difference to me. I
was an ambulance driver, serving in Belgium, France and Germany.
My husband, Leon Garfield, was in the Medical Corps, and we met
in an army canteen in Belgium. He too wanted to be either an artist
or a writer. As it happened, he became a writer long before I did.
After the war, I became a commercial artist, only stopping when
our daughter Jane was born. Telling her stories re-awakened my interest
in writing, and that is how I began. That was a long time ago. Now
I am a widow, living with my cat Friday in a small house in Islington,
London. My daughter Jane and my granddaughter Jessica live a ten
minute walk away.
|

Extracts
taken from Issue 4 of AuthorZone magazine. |