Smelling the roses

D inah was not a Christmas cook. Her ...

JENNA had a length of Christmas-themed fabric. She had used it previously to cover the table of her market stall, and was willing to sacrifice to help beautify Santa’s Grotto. It was patterned with al

LITERALLY no jobs come in over the Christmas period,” Jenna said. Lola Everett looked into her sister’s face, which was like her own but six years younger. “But is that true?” she asked. Jenna had a h

Julia, do hurry up! You don’t want to be late on your first day.” It’s Mum calling up from the hall. The face staring back at me from the mirror is tense and pale and even under all that makeup the fr

Tara stared blankly at the Christmas tree. The fir was a last-minute purchase from the garden centre. She hadn’t decided whether to decorate it. In the armchair opposite hers, where Hugh would normall

FAR MORE THAN DISHES THAT WORK TOGETHER, A MENU SETS THE STAGE FOR DINNERS WITH FRIENDS – OR SO SAYS DIANA HENRY