A colleague of the much-loved journalist looks back at her warmth, talent and dedication to the craft
I first met Sarah in the late 1990s, when the spirit of camaraderie that pervaded the Observer would spill down the slope of Ray Street behind the office to the Coach & Horses pub, where staff gathered. We became
Friends, and subsequently worked together at the Observer Review. Later, the TV editor, Mike Bradley, and I had the idea (prompted by Sarah) of getting her in to work on the section we ran together.
Her instincts about the appointment proved correct, as she displayed a compendious knowledge of all the big
American serials and everyone in them, months before anyone had seen or even heard of them here. In fact, Sarah’s knowledge seemed boundless – she knew more about books than anyone I know, and a great deal about sport, current affairs and
music. Someone might be looking for 1,400 words on a subject; they could ask Sarah at two in the afternoon and the words would be there by six, peppered with original insight and free of faults. I always knew, if she was standing in on TV, that her work would be impeccable.