Mud angels

FOR once, his sisters had not kept Michele awake. Their chattering through the thin walls of the house usually delayed his sleep at night, but last night he had got home so very late, well after midni

MICHELE RUSPOLI felt a little less agitated, now that he was inside the library, but all around was evidence of the flood. Books had been laid out haphazardly on pieces of matting, all leather-bound,

AURORA BERNARDI had done well in life. Once they were settled in the more comfortable chairs at the back of the church, Father Marcello learned about that from her, and about why she was in Florence.

ISOBEL had known that living in her old childhood home would bring back memories. However, she never expected so many, or for them to be so vivid. Sometimes, in the last minutes before waking, she ima

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

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