IT’S time to go to the police again,” Mark said. “That’s what I think.” “We all think that,” Lydia snapped. “We have all got that far, Mark.” The Denzell children glared at each other, then sighed and

Apart from the For Sale board, the house didn’t look any different from the last time I was here. Six months ago now. The day of my father’s funeral. A memory of how fragile my mother appeared that da

STRAIGHT upstairs, Billy, and wash those hands. Chicken wings OK for tea?” “With barbecue sauce?” Billy licked his lips. “Yes. Be quick, now.” Dumping his muddy football boots by the door, Billy scoot

YOU can’t just throw it all in a skip, Mum!” Bryony’s voice was muffled by a dust mask as she crouched in the loft space, carefully avoiding bumping her head on the beams. She examined a battered trun

IT was definitely in the middle pocket. A ten pound note and two fives. “I only remembered it last night when I was peeling the potatoes for dinner. “Of course, you were closed by then.” Mrs Featherst

TARA clicked off her mobile after phoning the police about the stolen trailer. “Well, they’ve given me a crime number,” she told her mother, who was busy patching holes in horse blankets. “But it’ll p