Running wild

EVERYONE seems to have a favourite season, don’t they? My sister, for example, has always loved winter. She says there’s nothing to beat a cold, clear day when the ground is hard and sparkling with fr

LESLEY patted her tearful granddaughter’s hand sympathetically and tried desperately to think of something to cheer her up. What could she say to a fourteen-year-old who thought her life was over beca

MUM?” Becky said. “When did you know Dad was the man for you?” “What? Pretty early, I think,” Frances replied, taken aback. “It’s so far in the past, I can’t remember.” “It’s important. Try and think

POSTERS for a touring circus blossomed in shop windows, and on any vacant stretch of boarding. Some were pasted on top of other posters, from many seasons ago. They were a snowstorm of colour to catch

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

PAM glanced up at the clock on the far wall of the classroom. Just half an hour to go until the summer holidays began. Six blissful pupil-free weeks, to be spent mostly gardening and binge watching pe