Eighteen summers

Iris climbed down from the donkey cart that had given her a lift from Penzance station, being careful not to ladder her best stockings, and walked up the narrow lane to Nantolven Farm. There was no si

MILK?” Mrs Evans loomed over Alice Campbell’s teacup with a milk jug. The humidity in the tea shop was beginning to wilt the fabric violets in Alice’s little hat. She could see a few of the tiny flowe

I don’t remember how I got into reading. Neither of my parents were big readers, and we didn’t have bookshelves at home – but I loved visiting the library. I could spend hours there, completely lost i

Isn’t there something a bit… I don’t know… less morbid you could be researching?” Bella looks up from the papers strewn across the kitchen table, the print-outs and scans of newspaper articles. Her mu

TRICKS LITERARY ILLUSIONS Performance magic and Victorian ...

They were two days into the week’s summer holiday and Ruth, hanging up beach towels in the garden, was already wondering if she could go on. It should be idyllic. Beachcomber Cottage in Devon was swee