Crossing paths

HELLO, little one!” Penny Dauntless greeted a robin-redbreast, who cocked his head as she pushed along her trolley of post on the daily round. “How often is there such a perfect mid-December morning?”

IF there was one thing Glenda Williams had always been proud of, it was her organisational skills. At school, the other girls had always come to her for help when sorting out their revision timetables

HER phone pinged with the e-mail while she was lying on the beach. The Greek sun blazed down from – well, being a writer, it was second nature for Amy to think about how she would describe the blue sk

OK? Ready?” “Yep.” Fi smiled at Brand. She then picked up the bags full of presents, hoping her face had been convincing. There had been a time when she’d loved these family gatherings at Christmas bu

It was 1963 and things were changing – but had Judith been left behind?

Tara stared blankly at the Christmas tree. The fir was a last-minute purchase from the garden centre. She hadn’t decided whether to decorate it. In the armchair opposite hers, where Hugh would normall