The last apple

Mary Pargeter was starting to feel her age. When did she first attend the annual Christmas tree lighting ceremony at Greenwood House? A quarter of a century, and she was retired even then. Had she loc

RUTH climbed the narrow path to Windlow Hill. She had a canvas bag in one hand and her mother’s old cardigan tucked under the other. Below, the village looked almost as it had in her childhood – white

It was 1963 and things were changing – but had Judith been left behind?

MAUD had been looking forward to finally getting her decorations out again. And now with a whole afternoon at her disposal she was really going to savour the experience and make it something special.

JOHANN KERNER saw the woman coming out of the darkness. She looked ancient and she moved as slowly as a snail, her back bent. She was the most likely source of information he had seen on his travels.

HER phone pinged with the e-mail while she was lying on the beach. The Greek sun blazed down from – well, being a writer, it was second nature for Amy to think about how she would describe the blue sk