The last apple

MARIE peered out of the front room window, wondering if people would be on time. And not only that – what if nobody showed? She let the net curtain drop, listening to the kettle whistling in the kitch

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

Maggie peered over her reading glasses and tutted. The date stone over the front door of The Rookery was covered in ivy. Another precious clue lost. Now she had only five for the treasure hunt she’d p

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