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Could Peggy save the day – and the croquet lawn?
BY DILLY COUR
HELLO, little one!” Penny Dauntless greeted a robin-redbreast, who cocked his head as she pushed along her trolley of post on the daily round. “How often is there such a perfect mid-December morning?”
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
Betty Middleton had only moved in two weeks earlier, but already she was starting to annoy me with her frequent knocks at my back door. “Would you like a slice of my lemon drizzle? It’s home-made!” No
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
GOOD morning! Seems like we’re both up bright and early today!” Dianne Fernsby smiled at the red-breasted visitor who hopped about on the bird table close to her kitchen window as she filled the kettl
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