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There was no-one to carry Helena but Paris Sefton . . .
BY AUDREY MARY
JOSH dabbed expertly at the cut he’d just finished sewing up. He’d made a neat job of it and it should heal very nicely, leaving only a line. It wouldn’t be seen, anyway, once the cat’s fur grew back.
Iris climbed down from the donkey cart that had given her a lift from Penzance station, being careful not to ladder her best stockings, and walked up the narrow lane to Nantolven Farm. There was no si
S tella is quicker than usual eating her breakfast. Taking worried glances out of the window just in case the cornflower blue sky might fill with dark, angry clouds, the sun obscured behind a mass of
SOPHIE sat in the beachside café sipping a chilled lemonade as the cool Aegean sea lapped the blond Cretan sand. The first time she’d sat here, she had just broken up with Ryan. Or, rather, Ryan had b
ELLA came out of the head’s office trying not to punch the air with excitement. Her colleagues in the staff-room were eyeing her speculatively. Had she just been promoted? Or sacked? She recognised th
THERE were tubes and wires everywhere. Beside Colin’s bed in Intensive Care was a scary-looking machine with coloured lights and constantly changing numbers on the screen. “I’m sorry to be a nuisance,