A sense of belonging

POSTERS for a touring circus blossomed in shop windows, and on any vacant stretch of boarding. Some were pasted on top of other posters, from many seasons ago. They were a snowstorm of colour to catch

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

DONNIE opened his cottage door and smiled warmly. “Well, well. Wee Frannie and her white shadow. Come away in.” “I’ve come to pay for the groceries,” Frances said. “They were a real lifesaver. Oh, and

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

THE clamour of seagulls woke Frances. For a moment, she was disorientated. Not so much in place – she knew this bedroom well – as in time. She had the odd feeling that none of the last 30-odd years ha

Creaking into the dusty, lookout point, Jessie pulled on the handbrake. Jumping out, she slammed the door. Clouds of grit tailed her maxi skirt to the front of the camper van. Lifting the bonnet, Jess