A gift or a curse

IT had been a long, hard drive. Frances had left early, hoping to get away before the rush hour – only to discover that the rush hour started earlier still. She stopped for a break further south than

THE clamour of seagulls woke Frances. For a moment, she was disorientated. Not so much in place – she knew this bedroom well – as in time. She had the odd feeling that none of the last 30-odd years ha

SPIRITS MAFALDA QUINO Translated by Frank Wynne ...

FROM the advantage of the cliffs, Petroc Trembath quietened his horse, Bucca, and withdrew his spyglass. From his vantage point he could see Morwenna Wainright at the window. Hidden by the landscape,

I n the corner of the drawing room ...

Muriel Spark led an implausible life. Born into straitened circumstances in Edinburgh as the First World War came to an end, she shone at school before moving to one of the least glamorous corners of