Smoke in the garage

GAVIN and I turned to look at each other on the sofa as the television credits rolled. “I know we’ve agreed for a long time that ‘Inspector Bletchley’ is our favourite programme,” I said. “But that wa

G av drove home, glancing up at the ...

The mini digger we hired was bright yellow. It sounded like a bus and belched out black smoke. Phil, looking like he sat upon a child’s toy, aimed it down the garden after the hire company unloaded it

THE buildings on either side of the street seemed to bend in upon Meg Talbot. Their upper windows were looming as she picked her way through the slime and detritus. She could hardly see the September

CAMILLE gulped down her cup of coffee, snatched up her keys and hurriedly hauled back the living room curtains. It wasn’t like her to oversleep, and of course it had to be this morning, when she had a

Maggie peered over her reading glasses and tutted. The date stone over the front door of The Rookery was covered in ivy. Another precious clue lost. Now she had only five for the treasure hunt she’d p