A proud legacy

S a ffy and Neil had been married ...

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

IT was what Wendy’s mum would have called a “mulling things over” day. As Wendy gazed out of the café window, puffy clouds sailed in a sky of stone-washed denim. It was the sort of day she and Ray had

BYE, Mum, Dad. See you later!” fifteen-year-old Ailsa called, heading for the door. Her mum stopped her. “Oh no, you don’t. Breakfast first.” “There’s food laid on. Trish told me,” Ailsa said. “You’re

When my nineteen-year-old niece, Bethany, asked if she could stay with me for a month ‘to find herself’, what could I say? I’d come here myself from the city last summer to recover from a failed relat