The silent letter

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

THE light was beginning to fade, and as Irene started to scratch her bare arms, she remembered anew one of the few things she disliked about being in the countryside. “The midges are out,” she complai

GWEN slipped off her pumps and poured herself a cuppa from the brown teapot with its knitted cover. She sighed contentedly as she leaned back in the kitchen chair and picked up her post. It had been a

ADMISSIONS SHADOW WORK Loneliness and the literary ...

To mark the 80th anniversary of VJ Day, John Eskdale and other survivors share their harrowing memories of war and stories of hope

SHIRLEY was enjoying herself. It was rare that the employees at Gottens department store were able to socialise. Shirley was in haberdashery. Mr Moyatt usually ruled the department with a rod of iron.