The farmer and his wife

DO you ever feel you should do something before it’s too late? I know I do. Then I think, maybe not. Over the years, I’ve found that when you go back somewhere for the second time, the wonderment has

I LIFT my head to the weak sun and give thanks for having survived another winter. It’s good to see the lane is passable, even if there are ruts and puddles. However, I can still see the bones of icy,

IT’S time to go to the police again,” Mark said. “That’s what I think.” “We all think that,” Lydia snapped. “We have all got that far, Mark.” The Denzell children glared at each other, then sighed and

VERONICA had only recently moved to the town, so she was surprised to recognise the woman walking towards her. Yet, when their eyes met, 30 years rolled away. “Helen?” Veronica said. “It is you, isn’t

Back in 1947, following the success of my grandmother Monica Edwards’ first book, Wish For a Pony, the opportunity arose to purchase at auction an old dilapidated 14th century farmhouse named Pitlands

Lou stirred her hot chocolate. Her half-hearted diet wasn’t going well, or rather, had never truly started. It felt impossible in this chilly weather to contemplate salads and bottled water instead of