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This library had become the centre of village life. . .
BY VAL BONSALL
NATALIE had done it again: spoken without thinking. Honestly, she sometimes thought she consisted of two people. There was the sensible Natalie who recycled her cardboard, and an inner, loose-lipped N
COME on, Auntie Jo – your turn!” Seven-year-old Sophie pushed the little cubes of wood across the table towards her aunt. Jo glanced at the clock and sighed. Still another 10 minutes before her niece
A VISIT to the local coffee shop following their Pilates class had become a welcome routine for the three retired friends. One morning Lyn ordered her favourite flat white, insisting she wanted nothin
YOU can’t just throw it all in a skip, Mum!” Bryony’s voice was muffled by a dust mask as she crouched in the loft space, carefully avoiding bumping her head on the beams. She examined a battered trun
Apart from the For Sale board, the house didn’t look any different from the last time I was here. Six months ago now. The day of my father’s funeral. A memory of how fragile my mother appeared that da
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