IT was two days until Christmas and the afternoon sky was blue and crisp as Lydia’s car pulled up in front of the magnificent Bristol Hotel. Why was it called the Bristol? she wondered. It was nowhere

RUTH climbed the narrow path to Windlow Hill. She had a canvas bag in one hand and her mother’s old cardigan tucked under the other. Below, the village looked almost as it had in her childhood – white

An old man lives at the bottom of my garden. His name is Robert Barkus, or Bakehouse, or Bagust. Nobody is quite sure. But I often sense him around when I’m gardening, and I’ve found out a fair bit ab

The writer Daphne du Maurier was fascinated by the English country house. Jeremy Musson explores her evocation of these buildings with the help of specially commissioned drawings by Matthew Rice

TO Jon’s surprise, Mr Pringle agreed to speak to him in the snug. Once they were seated there, Jon spoke quietly. “I’m a stranger here, and I want to keep an open mind. “So it would help if you could

Hannah and Matt needed a fresh start, but could they really put the past behind them?