“I’m not going very far away, I’m absolutely still going to be supporting the party. I’m still not sure what I want to be doing, but rather than being the front bench spokesperson on everything, which I am at the minute, I want to find ways to focus on climate and nature. So really being able to focus on the natural world: That’s what I want to do, but I haven’t decided exactly how yet.” 

I’m sitting in the back room of a pub in Preston Park, and Caroline Lucas MP – we can still say that – is doing one of her constituency surgeries. “Usually we do surgeries in the office, but from time to time we do them out in the community so people can drop by and raise issues with us rather than having to come into the office.” 

I’ve started volunteering at Raystede rescue centre, I tell her. You could do that. I could have a word. 

“Oh, have you? That’s very good. We’ve got a rescue dog. We got him from RSPCA in Patcham. But we did go out to Raystede, it’s a lovely place.” And that was me, sold. 

She’s got solid credentials coming out of her ears. She’s – still – our only Green MP and for the last 14 years has stood up and tried to hold the government to account, but more than that, she’s got a rescue dog from the RSPCA. Sold. 

At the risk of sounding old and cynical and jaded – as if – it’s fair to say that public perception of our politicians has never been lower. In the last two by-elections, the turnout was 37% and 38%. And they were probably people out walking their dogs who’d gone into the polling station to take shelter from the rain before realising what was going on. This year there’s going to be a general election and up and down the land there’ll be a collective cheer as hope flows we’ll be able to make a positive change. We can let them know what we think. We can send them back to their expenses paid duck houses. Flags will be waved. Bunting… all that. Except maybe down here in Brighton Pavilion because down here, it’s a bit of a double-edged sword. 

While almost certainly the nation will kick the Tories out as the party of government, the alternative is offering precious little to get excited or inspired by. But, much more to the point, we’ll also lose Caroline Lucas as our MP because, as you’ll know, she’s standing down.

“It has been an extraordinary privilege to represent this place. And, it’s been really lovely to have conversations with people who followed what I’ve been doing and feel proud to have a Green voice in Parliament. It has been quite emotional.” 

Sian Berry is going to take her place as Green candidate, and Sian is lovely and very impressive in her own way, but she’s not Caroline Lucas. Not yet, anyway. 

Caroline’s been our MP since 2010, during which time she’s increased her majority from just over 1,000 to almost 20,000. 

You’ve had a kind of weird position. You were an MP, the Green MP, but the Green Party, bless, is never going to get power. Were you ever tempted to join Labour because while you had a platform and got invited on Question Time a lot, but you weren’t ever going to be in the position to make policy. I can’t think of anyone else in British politics, who had that kind of position, except maybe for… 

“Who are you thinking of?” 

I can barely say it. Farage. 

“Well look at the impact that Farage has had on the political system without ever being elected. I mean, it might be terrible, but it is significant. And he didn’t need to be elected to do it. So I think that that reminds us that you don’t necessarily need to have loads of MPs in order to make a difference. Obviously, I would love to have loads of MPs. “I regularly asked myself, How do I make the biggest impact? What’s the best thing to do? And of course you wonder if it would be better to be working inside another political party. But then I remember that if I were, then I would be whipped by the leader of that party to follow that party line. 

“I think one of the things we need more than ever right now are MPs who are independently minded, who will stand up and do what’s best, in this case, for Brighton. Another Labour MP isn’t going to be able to do that here. They’re going to be whipped by Keir Starmer. 

“But we’ve got a fantastic candidate who’s standing in my place. She’s wonderful. And she might seem sweet, as you say, but she’s also fearless and formidable, in the sense that she will hold Sadiq Khan, or Rishi Sunak or Keir Starmer, whoever it is, to account. She is really good at doing that and she’s very determined and if you bring a problem – to her it’s like a dog with a bone, she will sort it out.” 

And now you’re going to do something else. Presumably, you’re talking about something a bit more focused and high-powered and pressure groupy than volunteering at Raystede.

“I’m not sure yet. But I’m going to take a bit of a break, and then look around and work out how best I can use whatever

experience that I have, to work on more urgent action on the natural world.” 

You must have had some nice offers. You’re high profile, popular, as near a celebrity as politicians get. 

“There have been some nice offers, but I’m really anxious not to rush into something. I really do want to take a bit of time out just to think about it because right now, honestly, the job is 70 hours a week easily, if not more, and I just want to have the time to really sit with it and work things out.” 

Was there a straw that broke the camel’s back? 

“No, there wasn’t. There was a growing sense since the last general election, and it’s just exhausting covering everything. I think there comes a point when
you think, I’ve been doing this since
2010 and, of course, I did 10 years in the European Parliament before that. So it’s just about that sense that now’s a good time to take stock”.

Is it that sense that it’s too early for retirement, that there’s still energy for another big adventure, the idea that life is a series of chapters. 

“I do feel that. Exactly that, and actually, one of the things that I’ve been doing in recent months is working with a wonderful organisation called Living
Well Dying Well, based in Lewes. They train you to be somebody who accompanies people at the end of life, an end of
life doula, and in a way, some of that work, I suppose it’s slightly fed into the decision as well. In the sense of thinking that life’s short and one wants to make the most of it.”

When you look back, what’s the thing you’re most proud of? 

“One of the things I’m really proud of is introducing a new GCSE in natural history. That might sound a bit obscure but I am passionate about our young people having as much access to nature that they can. I’m very influenced by something that an American writer, Richard Louv, said ‘We won’t protect what we don’t love. And we won’t love what we don’t know. And we won’t know what we don’t have access to and smell and touch and feel’. 

“So it’s about making sure our young people have access to nature and understand it and learn to love it. It happens in many primary schools that have fantastic eco clubs and their own allotments and more – then you get to secondary school, and suddenly there’s no time left for that,  everything closes down.” 

Do you retain optimism? 

“There’s another American writer, Rebecca Solnit, who makes a wonderful distinction between hope and optimism.
She says unlike optimism, which can sometimes mean that you’re blindly optimistic and can mean you might feel like you’re just sitting there holding your lottery ticket – hope is different. Hope is like an axe that breaks down doors in an emergency. Hope is what gets you out of bed, knowing that you have to do something, even if you don’t know what the outcome is going to be. Hope gives you the vision and the commitment to go and break down those doors for a better future. So I have that. 

I have that hope. I don’t have optimism in the sense that I think that if we just hang on tight, it’ll all come right. I mean, I think anyone who thinks that given the situation we’re in right now…” Her voice trails off, probably hoping we can talk about something else.

Outside of politics , what makes your heart sing? 

“Walking the dog on the downs.” 

Who’s your dog?

“He’s called Harry and he’s mostly Labrador, but he has  something in him that makes him jump very high. And when you take him off the lead and the way he shoots, you can just feel his glee and joy – and that makes me feel full of joy as well”.