Marmalade moon

WHEN we left England, it was teeming with rain; here in Umbria, the heat is so fierce it could render you senseless. Especially if you’re marooned with a flat tyre on a little winding road somewhere o

For Sarah, it was a night that would go down in history – for more reasons than one

S u nbathing on the terrace of the ...

COCKLES! Winkles!” Ellie heaves her heavy wicker basket higher on her arm and looks hopefully at the bank holiday crowds. They wander along the pier and wait in line for one or other of the pleasure s

Morning, Claudette! What have you got to sing to us today?” “Morning, Claudette! Would you do an old favourite for me? It was the first song that my husband – bless his soul – and I danced to. It’s ca

THREE minutes,” the man in the suit announced to the room, his clipboard clutched in his hands. His words triggered a wave of panic among the entrants to Sunnywade’s Grand Summer Talent Contest 1967.