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BY JOSIE LLOYD
best for FICTION
Shoo,’ Alice Beeton excl
MUM?” Becky said. “When did you know Dad was the man for you?” “What? Pretty early, I think,” Frances replied, taken aback. “It’s so far in the past, I can’t remember.” “It’s important. Try and think
Mum, what’s the worst thing anyone’s ever said to you?” Various replies sprang to mind, none appropriate for her son to hear. “She won’t tell you,” Clare’s daughter answered sagely. “If you tell me th
S a ffy and Neil had been married ...
‘M um,’ says my son Jack. ‘We have ...
Creaking into the dusty, lookout point, Jessie pulled on the handbrake. Jumping out, she slammed the door. Clouds of grit tailed her maxi skirt to the front of the camper van. Lifting the bonnet, Jess
Paula had agreed to meet Alex on Monday after checking out. She was planning to see her mum when she returned, but another hour or two wouldn’t make much difference as long as she didn’t leave it too