Back to Parliament – Autumn 2026

It’s just before 9am on Tuesday morning, the first day of September. After the regular pre-school rush, I park my car at Nuneaton station to catch the train to Euston. And, just like that, the old routine starts again.

The first few weeks back in the House of Commons is a busy time. So far, new PM Andy Burnham has given his first address to the House, setting out his plans for a better Britain. I know I’m biased but I thought what he said was genuine and sets the tone for the new term and the new premiership.

A quick re-cap: there have been debates on justice reforms, policing in Cleveland, rural county councils, the first Private Members’ Bill on the Child Life debate. Today – Friday, September 11th – is the reintroduced second reading of the assisted dying bill, and I greatly appreciate each and every one of you who has written in to share your views on this.

Behind the scenes, it’s a different kind of hectic. Because it’s not just my life that changed hugely when I became an MP in July 2024. My family’s did, too.

My home is busy – a husband, two teenage kids, two cats and a dog. We are very much a team, and like many families we prepare for the week ahead together. So, the weekend before I travel to London is often spent batch cooking. I’ll double cook a Sunday dinner and, if they’re lucky, I’ll leave a casserole in the fridge for them too.

Some of my more vocal critics like to say I’m a ‘career politician’ and to that I say if I was, I certainly would’ve tried to enter politics earlier than my mid-30s. Actually, I worked for a housing association for 20 years and was a Leicestershire County Councillor for eight years.

It’s taken some time to become accustomed to this new way of life, and I still don’t think I fully am. I was 48 when I became your MP, and I don’t mind admitting I found this lifestyle change quite difficult, living out of a hotel room, by myself. I’d never worked in London before. And I’d never worked away from home for long periods.

I soon found a little flat not far from Westminster which helped me settle a bit. Unfortunately, it flooded and I was back to staying in a hotel. At the same time I moved out, one of my MP colleagues was also turfed out of her house. We chatted and decided we’d flat share. It’s cheaper – and it’s better for the both of us. She’s a good friend of mine and a brilliant MP. We walk into Parliament together and have settled into a bit of a routine (she does the dishwasher and mends the temperamental boiler, I do the garden).

So it’s taken some getting used to, but now, two-and a-bit years in, I think it’s working. I still have spells of loneliness – it can be a solitary job – but I try, whenever I can, to surround myself with people.

The part that always catches me out? Having the right clothes in the right place, at the right time. I have shoes in my parliamentary locker, shoes under my desk, shoes in my car, at my flat – yes, I do have a lot of shoes but I could still end up in a November parliamentary session in summer sandals.

I wore the same jacket for two consecutive days last year and someone actually said: “Didn’t you wear that yesterday?” I hope I’m always more concerned about the substance of this job – a job I love and take extremely seriously – than I am about rotating my jackets.

* A top tip, London commuters – it’s cheaper and more reliable to head to the capital from Tamworth/Rugby/Nuneaton on the West Coast Mainline than it is from Leicester station.
I’d prefer to go from Leicester but every single train I caught in July from Leicester to London, and vice-versa, was late. It’s appalling. I know from my correspondence many of you share my frustration. I’ve written to East Midlands Railway about this. They’re aware of the problems. They’re looking into it. Meanwhile, I’ve moved to the West Coast Mainline. I’m sure I’m not the only one to do that.