A good answer

IRIS walked slowly to the front door of her Victorian villa in Fairley, a sleepy Sussex village. It had begun, she fumed silently – the “invasion” of her home. Of course, she’d been expecting it. Her

TWO choc ices and an orange Kia-Ora, please.” He didn’t need to tell me what he wanted. As soon as the house lights went up, and he appeared in the aisle, I was already reaching into the illuminated t

COME on, Jo. You haven’t been out with us for ages,” Gemma chided me, when she phoned. “It’s not good for you sitting about in that poky flat all on your own.” “I’m not on my own. I have Simon,” I cor

It was a week before Christmas, grey and cold, but finally the Christmas shopping was finished. Home at last, and after standing in a supermarket queue for almost an hour with a trolley bulging with f

CAMILLE gulped down her cup of coffee, snatched up her keys and hurriedly hauled back the living room curtains. It wasn’t like her to oversleep, and of course it had to be this morning, when she had a

GAVIN and I turned to look at each other on the sofa as the television credits rolled. “I know we’ve agreed for a long time that ‘Inspector Bletchley’ is our favourite programme,” I said. “But that wa