Altering course

THE first thing that met Lily’s eyes, when the lift doors drew back to show the fourth floor open-plan offices of Dill Pickle Design, was a trampoline. There was a huge, black rubber mat embedded in t

Have you met our new neighbour yet?’ Paul asked, walking into the kitchen and idly popping a grape into his mouth. ‘Just moved in, two doors down. She’s French and a real looker.’ ‘In what way?’ Laura

IT had been a long, hard drive. Frances had left early, hoping to get away before the rush hour – only to discover that the rush hour started earlier still. She stopped for a break further south than

BETH felt her heart pound as she made haste towards the Whitechapel Road. Why had Mrs Mears let out such a cry and thrown down the newspaper with unseemly urgency? Why had she bidden her maid to fetch

I PULLED back the living-room curtains and stopped singing along to the radio, frozen to the spot. How could this be? It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining, the birds had been singing up a s

GRAN, you know I love the hotel. But I’m not the person you need,” Emma said. “You publicise those events you run,” her gran, Betty, replied. “I’m sure you could use some of those skills to help build