Smoke signals

It was one of those cool misty mornings when Lucy had no firm idea how she wanted to spend her day. Nothing had leapt to the top of her to-do list when today’s planned coffee morning with her daughter

NOTHING said “home” like the kitchen of Nant-y-Bri Farm at breakfast time. Delicious frying pan smells hung heavy in the air and the scrape of cutlery on willow pattern plates indicated the family had

Tucking her hands into her pockets, Joanne chased after Boo. ‘Good boy!’ she smiled, nearing the spaniel. Boo hardly ever ran off, and if he did shoot ahead, he’d wait for her, looking back until she

T HE FOX STOOD IN THE shadows of ...

IT’S perfect,” I said. “Just think of all the time I’ll save on commuting. I’ll even be able to come home for lunch if I want to.” Mum didn’t look convinced. Of course, she was pleased that I’d found

GEORGIA wasn’t supposed to be at her grandparents’ house that day. Her plan had been to go up to her boyfriend’s house in Manchester. She was to be set off early from work, getting there in good time