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The pawnbroker’s shop wasn’t how Bess had imagined it to be . . .
BY
IT was what Wendy’s mum would have called a “mulling things over” day. As Wendy gazed out of the café window, puffy clouds sailed in a sky of stone-washed denim. It was the sort of day she and Ray had
MUM?” Becky said. “When did you know Dad was the man for you?” “What? Pretty early, I think,” Frances replied, taken aback. “It’s so far in the past, I can’t remember.” “It’s important. Try and think
SATURDAYS were no fun when Mum was on shift. She’d made it clear that while she was at the hospital, whoever was left in the house was expected to get on with all the jobs that had to be done. Today t
Serial part 1
CAZ stood beside the open door of the bus and checked the names of boarding passengers on her tablet. “This is our third trip with you,” Mavis confided as her husband took her hand and helped her aboa
PAM glanced up at the clock on the far wall of the classroom. Just half an hour to go until the summer holidays began. Six blissful pupil-free weeks, to be spent mostly gardening and binge watching pe