best for FICTION

The mini digger we hired was bright yellow. It sounded like a bus and belched out black smoke. Phil, looking like he sat upon a child’s toy, aimed it down the garden after the hire company unloaded it

VENITA FITZALAN-BLAKE had never liked dancing. And after treading the length and breadth of Bond Street, Mayfair and Piccadilly, fruitlessly seeking employment, she had good cause to remember why. If

CARYS checked that her ivory silk blouse was fully buttoned and put the jacket on the hanger. She just couldn’t drive in fitted clothes and in any case didn’t want to arrive crumpled and creased at th

Fred de Fossard

SARAH DITUM