What the heart wants

I CANNOT apologise enough for the soup, Miss Porter. I am most dreadfully sorry. “I do believe I need another cook,” Mr Langley said to his dinner guest. He put his spoon down, unable to consume any m

MARIE peered out of the front room window, wondering if people would be on time. And not only that – what if nobody showed? She let the net curtain drop, listening to the kettle whistling in the kitch

TOM! What are you doing here?” I stopped gazing at the empty space in the centre of the table, to throw myself into my fiancé’s arms. “You’re not supposed to be here until tonight,” I told him. “I dec

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

MICHELE RUSPOLI felt a little less agitated, now that he was inside the library, but all around was evidence of the flood. Books had been laid out haphazardly on pieces of matting, all leather-bound,

JIM TEMPLEMAN smiled at Primrose across the table. “I’m sorry the way things worked out at lunch yesterday. “That agent of mine could talk your ear off but I guess he didn’t think to involve you in th