The split

Sylvia was bored to tears. She almost wished she’d gone with the others to the garden centre. But she’d had it with garden centres, and what was the point when the gardens here were looked after by pr

I wish my parents hadn’t called me Sheila. My friends all had exotic names like Juliet or Charlotte or Justine, while I spent my childhood having to deal with a barrage of Waltzing Matilda jokes and f

Apart from the For Sale board, the house didn’t look any different from the last time I was here. Six months ago now. The day of my father’s funeral. A memory of how fragile my mother appeared that da

FAR FROM BEING DEPRESSING OR LONELY, COOKING AND EATING SOLO DINNERS IS ONE OF LIFE’S GREAT JOYS, SAYS Eli Davies

AS I hang my clothes in the wardrobe of the hotel room we’re sharing, I feel my sister Clare’s eyes on me. Through a mirror, I catch the thoughtful look on her face. It’s a look that’s often there, bu

I made myself scrambled eggs for Sunday breakfast, accompanied by a toasted sourdough English muffin from the farmers’ market and my favourite coffee in my favourite mug. I had the latest Richard Osma