If memory serves

MAUD had been looking forward to finally getting her decorations out again. And now with a whole afternoon at her disposal she was really going to savour the experience and make it something special.

RUTH climbed the narrow path to Windlow Hill. She had a canvas bag in one hand and her mother’s old cardigan tucked under the other. Below, the village looked almost as it had in her childhood – white

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

HAVE YOUR SAY

Each month, a reader writes to a loved one in the afterlife and Mandy Masters tunes in to share their reply. This time, Julie Morris writes to her mum Marjorie

Left to die on Christmas Eve, Grampa deserved so much more