Stitches of the past

IT’S been an emotional few weeks in the Grigg household, now that my Mum has gone. Mr Grigg and I have been going through her things, setting aside a game of solitaire for Number One Son who used to e

AS the bell jangled, Kit had a feeling it would be his mystery blonde. She was slight, her summer tan fading, with hair that in a certain light appeared almost greenish like, he supposed, unripened wh

Today I am sitting at a well-scrubbed kitchen table in a Cotswold kitchen, warmed by a Delft blue Rayburn. My hostess offers me a slice of fruitcake baked by her husband – baking is something Bill has

I’M up at my mum’s old house, going through a trunk full of photographs. There is a biscuit tin of medals here, awarded to my grandfathers after World War I. I pull one of them out and realise it was

A f ter my great-aunt Monica’s funeral, I ...

TESS was completely disorientated when she woke up. Her eyes flickered open and she found herself facing an unfamiliar pale green wall. The room, wherever it was, held a faint hint of the new wallpape