The bus girls

POSTERS for a touring circus blossomed in shop windows, and on any vacant stretch of boarding. Some were pasted on top of other posters, from many seasons ago. They were a snowstorm of colour to catch

Creaking into the dusty, lookout point, Jessie pulled on the handbrake. Jumping out, she slammed the door. Clouds of grit tailed her maxi skirt to the front of the camper van. Lifting the bonnet, Jess

MUM?” Becky said. “When did you know Dad was the man for you?” “What? Pretty early, I think,” Frances replied, taken aback. “It’s so far in the past, I can’t remember.” “It’s important. Try and think

HELLO! I’m in the garden,” Rachel called out when she heard the car door bang shut. The six-foot gate separating the drive from the back garden swung open and a smiling, but tired-looking Jack appeare

DONNIE opened his cottage door and smiled warmly. “Well, well. Wee Frannie and her white shadow. Come away in.” “I’ve come to pay for the groceries,” Frances said. “They were a real lifesaver. Oh, and

PAM glanced up at the clock on the far wall of the classroom. Just half an hour to go until the summer holidays began. Six blissful pupil-free weeks, to be spent mostly gardening and binge watching pe