Are you sure, love? Why not go on a nice holiday with a friend instead?” “Honestly, Mum,” Lucy said, a touch impatiently. “I’m thirty, not a teenager! I want to travel, be on my own for a while. Since

MARIE peered out of the front room window, wondering if people would be on time. And not only that – what if nobody showed? She let the net curtain drop, listening to the kettle whistling in the kitch

It was a week before Christmas, grey and cold, but finally the Christmas shopping was finished. Home at last, and after standing in a supermarket queue for almost an hour with a trolley bulging with f

IRIS walked slowly to the front door of her Victorian villa in Fairley, a sleepy Sussex village. It had begun, she fumed silently – the “invasion” of her home. Of course, she’d been expecting it. Her

G av drove home, glancing up at the ...

ONE OF THE MOST GRIMLY FUNNY POEMS OF the past century is Philip Larkin’s “This Be the Verse,” with its opening salvo about how our parents invariably mess us up. Larkin used a saltier word for “mess,