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Crime and romance collide on a moonlit milk round
By Julia Douglas
YOU can’t just throw it all in a skip, Mum!” Bryony’s voice was muffled by a dust mask as she crouched in the loft space, carefully avoiding bumping her head on the beams. She examined a battered trun
IT’S time to go to the police again,” Mark said. “That’s what I think.” “We all think that,” Lydia snapped. “We have all got that far, Mark.” The Denzell children glared at each other, then sighed and
J AS tapped the shiny knocker twice, then stepped back, glancing at Priya. “Are you sure this is the right flat?” Priya held up the sealed envelope, showing the typed address. “Number three, Oak Avenu
IT was a clear early spring day, the breeze light and the sands empty. Sea and land seemed to go on forever, their divisions blurred by light and distance. Brigitte Wetherby breathed in the salty air
STRAIGHT upstairs, Billy, and wash those hands. Chicken wings OK for tea?” “With barbecue sauce?” Billy licked his lips. “Yes. Be quick, now.” Dumping his muddy football boots by the door, Billy scoot
TARA clicked off her mobile after phoning the police about the stolen trailer. “Well, they’ve given me a crime number,” she told her mother, who was busy patching holes in horse blankets. “But it’ll p