The place we always stay

AS Ellie bent to pick up an old trainer laying half buried in a pile of seaweed, she screamed. “Aargh, there’s a leg attached to this!” For a moment she thought she’d stumbled across a gruesome crime

I stood by the kitchen window; phone pressed to my ear. Outside, frost shimmered across the lawn, and the weak winter sun filtered through the trees. “So, what do you think?” I said to Phoebe. “A post

by Harriet Lane (£20, HB, Orion) What lies beneath the image we construct of ourselves? Ruth, newly divorced and drifting as her daughter leaves home, feels invisible – until Sookie, her dazzling form

Literary news andreviews with alocal flavour

Most people are glued to their phones these days, but my sister won’t go anywhere without her notebook. She bought it after we went on a writing course, and she took it out of her bag as soon as I par

Grief is unpredictable. There I was in May, getting ready for a Kylie concert – my eyeliner had gone on perfectly and my mind was racing. Would my hair go flat after an hour on the Tube? Would the kid