For 25 years Farrah Storr sought answers to a heartbreaking rejection at 17. When she eventually found them, she realised she’d been looking in the wrong places all along

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

TOMMY was cold. He couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t felt cold. His fingers hurt the most. He folded them inside his woollen jumper and squeezed them tightly. Sometimes it eased the tingling pain. So

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

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