The fun one

PAULA KERR slipped in through the back door of her granny’s house, trying not to make a sound. She could smell the dough and knew her granny did not like to be disturbed while she was mixing dough for

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

Mae pulled her car in close to the curb, directly opposite the small two-bedroom bungalow belonging to her grandmother. She paused for a moment. Mae made a conscious effort to visit at least once a we

GRAN, can’t you do something about him? I’m trying to concentrate on my homework here.” Wendy’s thirteen-year-old granddaughter had the eye roll and withering tone down perfectly as she motioned towar

I WAS lonely. Papa was a preacher and we lived and travelled in a painted wooden wagon, pulled by Jessie, a large and docile shire horse. We had few possessions; there was no room for what Papa called

MARIE peered out of the front room window, wondering if people would be on time. And not only that – what if nobody showed? She let the net curtain drop, listening to the kettle whistling in the kitch