The last apple

Mae pulled her car in close to the curb, directly opposite the small two-bedroom bungalow belonging to her grandmother. She paused for a moment. Mae made a conscious effort to visit at least once a we

Tales of the uncanny from a master of ambiguity

STAY still,” a strong, male voice commanded from the gloom. The autumn sun was setting on Wildwood Cottage, silhouetting its undulating structure dramatically against a charcoal and orange sky. “Well,

Betsy smiles and gives my hand a gentle squeeze as we walk through the entrance of Willow Pumpkin Farm. Searching for the plumpest of pumpkins has become a much-cherished tradition and one we have mai

JIM TEMPLEMAN smiled at Primrose across the table. “I’m sorry the way things worked out at lunch yesterday. “That agent of mine could talk your ear off but I guess he didn’t think to involve you in th

October brings the first of the frosts, bewitching mist, the turning of leaves and a host of otherworldly visitors, finds John Lewis-Stempel