Being a BBC journalist myself has really helped me to deal with the challenges and issues that arise when you’re married to a foreign correspondent.

There’s not much room for compromise, so that’s why you have to get on with your life. You have to be sure of who you are as a person, so that your status doesn’t diminish because his role is always the higher profile.

Being a correspondent is a very self-indulgent, egotistical world. And the truth is that you are only as good as your last story. Correspondents are, therefore, highly driven people.

He is an incredibly easy-going, relaxed person at home. But, I’ve seen him elbow out anyone who stands in his way, if he needs to get onto that aeroplane, NOW! If you’ve got to get somewhere, then that is all that matters. I suppose you can call this side of him his alter-ego: that slightly split personality that enables him to function under this kind of pressure.

When you are married to someone who is constantly on the road, you have to consciously make the relationship work all the time. You also have to live with the thought that he could be shot at, or bombed, or have to survive in an earthquake zone. And, when you know he’s safe, you always have the thought, ‘We got away with it again’. Until the next time, that is. And, there always is a next time. You’ve got to want the relationship that much. Whatever happens, it’s worth it.

Primarily, I feel fine about it. I’m not someone who dwells, or is even conscious on a daily basis, of what ‘could’ happen. But, interestingly, we did have a conversation the other day about the Gulf war, should anything happen there.

He always says, ‘Well, it’s just not going to happen’. And, I go along with that. But, I recognise that we have three children to consider. So, I believe there are things I think about which he doesn’t want to.

And, maybe he’s right. There’s no point in dwelling on it. There’s nothing you can do about it anyway. It’s the nature of the beast of the job.

I know a lot of journalists have a difficult time in their relationships because of the pressures that this kind of life-style creates. Some people give themselves a really hard time when their partners are away. If you get stuck into a belief that your partner is living a completely different life when he’s on the road, it’s too easy to become consumed with anxiety and jealousy. And, that’s an awful way to live. The only way to survive it is to say, ‘I’m just not going to live like that; I’m not going to feel that is happening to my life and my marriage’.

But, it can be surprisingly difficult when he comes home, especially if it’s been a long stint. The beginning of a trip is relatively easy. You miss him, and for a short time it’s difficult. Then, suddenly, you get into a rhythm. You’re back in charge, and everything has got a pattern to it.

Just as suddenly, in he wafts like some conquering hero – and we all have to adjust to a different kind of pace. So, it’s really important to sit down and talk to each other about what’s going on, and it’s crucial that you go through what your expectations are, otherwise you’re constantly disappointed by each other. It’s no-one’s fault. It just about stating where you both are, and what you both need to feel comfortable with each other again.

Of course his way of life affects the children too. Our middle daughter finds it incredibly difficult, and still breaks down the minute he goes. And yet, she is fine the minute he’s gone, even though every time he phones, it’s the same mantra, ‘When are you coming home’? This is right from the day he’s gone.

And the teachers of our elder daughter have told us that they know when he’s away because she’s slightly distracted, particularly if he’s gone for long periods.

She worries desperately about a war with Iraq, which she knows is imminent. He was recently in Baghdad. Although she knew the war wasn’t happening, she was conscious he was out there watching them prepare for it. She knows on some level, he is part of it, and I know she thinks he’s going to die in this war.

Obviously, when the children were younger, I didn’t have to deal with this kind of thing. But now they are older, they are very aware that he’ll be in the thick of it. They watch programmes like (the BBC’s news programme aimed at younger viewers) Newsround, which is obviously very tame. Thankfully, they miss a lot of his pieces because they are in bed by the time the News comes on. But, they know what’s going on because they are told at school.

I have had experience of hostile environments, so I realise that it’s often not as dangerous as it appears on television. But, there is a danger, when you aren’t there, for your imagination, and perception of what happening, to run riot. That’s a real problem for the children as they get older.

When he is away, he has always phoned us at least once a day, no matter where he is. We find every phone call is essential. You have to have that constant input on a daily basis because it helps him to remain part of your world; the boiler breaking down, the kids going to school, your working day. It’s vital to establish that conversational intimacy. It’s crucial for the two of you to continue as a team together, even though one of you may be thousands of miles away.

And, I know that these phone calls can be really tricky. If they’re great, they’re terrific. But, I know partners who say that a bad phone call is worse than no phone call at all.

I am very used to this way of life now. However, I always feel a constant conflict whenever I buy theatre tickets, for example. I never know if he’s going to be able to make it or not. And, I never say a definite yes to dinner invitations for the same reason.

You live your life like that all the time - for everything. Whether you’ve made an appointment to get your hair done, or to go away for a weekend. If it involves him in any shape or form – half of you is always slightly on edge, and it will be down to you to either abandon the situation, because he can’t make it, or to try and rescue it in any way you can.

Living like this all the time does have a slow drip-drip effect. You think you’re fine, and you’re managing. And, yet, underneath, it is quite stressful, because I often feel like a single parent. I rationalise it by thinking, ‘Well, it’s not exclusive to me. Women face this all the time’. But, it is tough when I need backup, and he’s off on the six o’clock flight to somewhere because there’s been some disaster.

It’s that total uncertainty about everything from the smallest to the biggest which creates the drip-drip effect. This really can create problems, unless you are constantly feeling that you both are trying to make it work.

But, at the end of the day, I know we are his safe haven, and as his wife, I see my role as his friend. That’s how it’s always been. Our friendship is pivotal to our relationship.

He believes all he needs to do is to remove himself from the situation, to come home to us, and it will all be all right. He compartmentalise it, and it’s posted away. But, there are times when he’s shouting in his sleep, so I know that doesn’t necessarily work.

I do know he found Rwanda and Burundi terribly difficult because it involved children, and watching them die. But, I think that most journalists, who’ve been on the road for a long time, feel that if you’re going to stop and help everybody, you should have joined the VSO. That’s not what journalism is about.

He has witnessed some terrible things. He’s also been very close to taking risky decisions, which could have endangered his life. In Afghanistan, for every journalist that was killed, he had been in the same spot days or hours before. But in all honesty, he doesn’t dwell on it. He just feels incredibly lucky that he comes home to us, really.

We have never really talked about the effect this could be having on him. And, although he will talk about what he’s seen, I have a sense that a lot remains unsaid. He’s also quite dismissive of therapy (at least for him) because he thinks it would open a can of worms that he doesn’t want to deal with.

Of course, we’ve talked about him coming off the road. He would love to write. But, it’s difficult when he’s at home because the children and I want him around, rather than shutting himself away on his computer.

Even though he makes these compromises, and does make major contributions to our relationship, basically, everything is about him. It hinges on where he is and what he’s doing. This is the story of every correspondent’s life. It’s very hard not to feel just a passive partner, because you’re not the one that flies off.

It’s difficult to know how to handle this, because I don’t want to be the little wife waving him off on the doorstep saying, ‘Have a great trip’. Nor do I want to be the doormat, or the harridan who says, ‘Why do you go have to go away again’. Or, become passively aggressive making barbed comments and feeling bitter and dispirited by life.

It’s okay for him to be a ‘foreign fireman’, as long as I have my life. So, we’ve opted for the family to stay in London. He gets the bite at more cherries on foreign stories, and I can continue working, as well as enjoying a big network of friends, and settling the children at school.

But, sometime I do think, ‘Is this it’? Is domestic life in London the last story, or is there another adventure for us. I still feel maybe there is; but it would have to be at a time, and in a place that it suits everybody. And, I’m not the diplomatic wife type who brings out the dinner service, whether it’s Beijing or Washington. That’s far too stultifying for me.

So, my advice to anyone who is thinking of spending his or her life with a journalist is to be as involved in your partner’s work as you can be. Get to know the people your partner works with, and who to call if you’re worried. For me, it’s a real comfort knowing that if anything did happen to him, I know whom to call straightaway. For those who don’t know the score, it can be nerve-wracking to call the news desk and ask for information, when you haven’t got a clue how it works.

Sharing this interest means that it keeps you part of the same thing. It creates and maintains an intimacy, which is really, really important when you spend a lot of time apart.