‘we still grieve for meg, but she would be happy for us’

PAM glanced up at the clock on the far wall of the classroom. Just half an hour to go until the summer holidays began. Six blissful pupil-free weeks, to be spent mostly gardening and binge watching pe

STARING out of her window at the small garden, Gemma sighed. It was nothing like the large rambling garden she’d had at her old house and there were times when she really missed it. If she were honest

When journalist and author Hunter Davies lost his wife of more than 50 years, the novelist Margaret Forster, he began writing to her instead

I WAS only five when Elaine first came into my life. She was tall and dark skinned, with a perfume that smelled of roses and big necklaces in bright colours that bounced as she laughed. Whenever my da

AFTER a while, the hole in the bathroom floor became as familiar to Mary as her own reflection in the mirror over the sink. She contacted six tradespersons she found online before one agreed to even c

I remember the conversation where we ended our marriage. It was a typical grey, drizzly January day as we sat at opposite ends of our big sofa in our big house, separated by the elephant I had finally