Keep it low

Alan, don’t you think it’s time you got cleaned up? Grantham’s coming to tea.” Helen looked at her sixteen-year-old son’s filthy overalls and grease-streaked arms. “I wish you wouldn’t get quite so di

WHAT’S that racket?” Rae looked around. “It’s Jake. Your son,” she called, smiling. “He’s bought a second-hand drum kit.” Leo winced as another loud crash echoed down the stairs, then he took off his

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 going to be a quiet festive season for me, just the way I liked it (I told myself). I’d gone back to spend Christmas with my parents in our small home town. This year, however, Mum and Dad were

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

IT wasn’t the weather that bothered Gina so much in winter. It was the lack of light. She craved sunshine, blue skies and the kind of white light that elevated whole days, lifting the spirit and promi