Old age, young love

It came out of nowhere, and I happened to be with Angela at the time. She’s my sister. Growing up I’d always been the plain one – gawky, angular, with a bump on my nose and wiry red hair it had taken

LOTS of people who meet Jean and me seem to be under the impression that we’ve been friends since we were girls, but this is not the case. I was in my seventies when I first met Jean. I’d felt rather

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

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

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