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

IN the rear of her stationary motor-taxi, a young milliner reached up a careful gloved hand to pat her black-felt cloche, snug on her smart, fair curls. Constance Smart had been sitting patiently for

“Between you and me …”

CHEAP JOKE You know a series has run ...

ONE OF THE MOST GRIMLY FUNNY POEMS OF the past century is Philip Larkin’s “This Be the Verse,” with its opening salvo about how our parents invariably mess us up. Larkin used a saltier word for “mess,

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