T here is a low-level hum that forms the soundtrack to many women’s lives. It’s a conditioning. The silent expectation to be the architect of everyone’s day, managing the moods of daily life. Being th

© HEADER DRAWINGS BY MICHAEL HADDAD/HEART Leaves Byung-Chul ...

JENNA had a length of Christmas-themed fabric. She had used it previously to cover the table of her market stall, and was willing to sacrifice to help beautify Santa’s Grotto. It was patterned with al

JENNA arrived at nine o’clock to open up the stall. Since Lily had been working on her dissertation until the early hours of the morning, she was having a lie-in and would arrive later. Jenna wasn’t l

LITERALLY no jobs come in over the Christmas period,” Jenna said. Lola Everett looked into her sister’s face, which was like her own but six years younger. “But is that true?” she asked. Jenna had a h

Mary Pargeter was starting to feel her age. When did she first attend the annual Christmas tree lighting ceremony at Greenwood House? A quarter of a century, and she was retired even then. Had she loc