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What had really happened to my grandad?
BY VAL BONSALL
LITERALLY no jobs come in over the Christmas period,” Jenna said. Lola Everett looked into her sister’s face, which was like her own but six years younger. “But is that true?” she asked. Jenna had a h
I’M sitting at the window and Max is in the aisle seat. There is a spare seat between us, which is as well, as the air crackles with bad feeling. I don’t want to be flying. I’d prefer Christmas at hom
The first five pages of my new novel, Small Acts of Resistance, a love story set during the First World War, have taken a somewhat circuitous route to print. Their journey into being started over twen
It looked like a bleak Christmas for all – until Becky had a bright idea
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
IF there was one thing Glenda Williams had always been proud of, it was her organisational skills. At school, the other girls had always come to her for help when sorting out their revision timetables