‘I’M READING THE NEWS FROM MY FRONT ROOM’ BY SKY NEWS ANCHOR SARAH-JANE MEE

I thought I had plenty of time to make the most of my last few child-free weeks before my due date at the end of June. There was a baby shower to plan, engagement celebrations, a house move, long Sunday afternoons browsing nursery departments and new mum friends to make at pre-natal classes. My fiancé Ben and I were even going to squeeze in that ‘babymoon’ we’d heard so much about – a last couple’s holiday before we became a three-piece.

Turns out the universe had other plans for us. Boris Johnson’s first daily coronavirus update that Monday night in March would change my world beyond recognition. After advising against unnecessary travel, he then declared pregnant women among the most at risk from COVID-19. I was suddenly in the vulnerable category.

And here I am today in the same front room with a whole new reality. As a news presenter for Sky, I’ve swapped a fancy state-of-the-art TV studio for a home broadcast kit and camera that I’ve managed to set up so that it crops out my messy kitchen. Now I am not just a journalist but a camera operator, sound engineer, lighting director, hair and make-up artist and – hardest of all – tech support.

The extra challenge is sharing a workspace with Ben. He runs his businesses from the computer next to my homemade studio and we fight each morning over who gets to use the

hours of work and piles and piles of laundry.

But I am a grown-up, I could live with that.

And maybe it was that absolute lowering of expectation that made it so special. Because with nowhere to go, no fancy party to dress for and no special guests to entertain, it was, unquestionably, one of the happiest days of my life.

Isolating at home with my children –

Jimmy, 19, Dolly, 16, Evangeline, seven, Dash, six, and Lester, three – and my husband Pete, there were small surprises. The children made me a birthday breakfast table, covered in handmade cards and bunches of greenery picked from the hedgerows near our house. Pete had surreptitiously bought some of my favourite bath essences and a necklace with the children’s names on it. I took my younger children for a walk; we had lunch in the garden because it happened to be a beautiful day. That evening, Jimmy cooked kebabs which we ate with a big plate of salad and flatbreads, and Pete mixed negronis. We played a card game together and then the children ran around in the garden as the sun went down. And when the younger children were in bed, Jimmy projected The Rocky Horror Picture Show on to a wall.

It was a good day, and a valuable one, too, as it reminded me how little we really need to be happy. Rather like lockdown itself, my birthday was a chance to concentrate on simpler things, and enjoy what I really love, which is nothing more than being around my family on a sunny day in the garden. the menu planning and embarked on a cleaning and organising spree of their house (which didn’t go down very well). I Zoomed with my friends every night, did online dance classes and bathed in any kind of free entertainment or wellness practice I could. In the end, I actually didn’t see my parents that much.

But, a month in, watching TV shows in gym kit – without any personal space and my usual accoutrements – I realised I’d reverted to semi-teenage behaviour: leaving my dishes in the sink and clothes on the floor; midway through a digital date (with a man I’d met pre-COVID-19), my mum burst into my room to demand her phone charger back. ‘Wow – you sound like an angry teenager,’ he said as I roared, ‘Mum, I’m on the phone!’

It’s far easier than you think to fall back into those old patterns. But my parents have struggled with having me in the house as a grown-up, too; I’m quite bossy these days, and that ‘you must do as you’re told’ vibe that’s de rigueur in Indian families just doesn’t work for me any more. They miss their dining room, which has become my messy workspace.

But I now realise that this is time with them I’ll never get again. I’ll never be able to spend a weekend learning to cook with my mum – which has been one of the best things about being home. Or meditating with my dad outside in the sun. I’m behaving more as one of the family, rather than like a lodger, cooking for them and being a part of things more.

Lockdown has given me a deeper sense of appreciation for my tiny apartment, and it feels like a luxury to know I will go back to that space, where I can truly be myself. But, it’s also a luxury knowing there’s another – albeit very different – home I can retreat to if I ever need it.