What revealed the magic of books for me was The Wind in the Willows. When I was five, I contracted measles, which meant I had to spend my days in bed in a darkened room. My mother sat outside my bedro

An old man lives at the bottom of my garden. His name is Robert Barkus, or Bakehouse, or Bagust. Nobody is quite sure. But I often sense him around when I’m gardening, and I’ve found out a fair bit ab

‘ Knives Out meets Thursday Murder Club ’

My love of stories came before my love of reading. I rarely slept as a baby, so my poor mum often soothed me at nights by reading to me. As a small child I listened to Storyteller tapes all night – au

Mary Pargeter was starting to feel her age. When did she first attend the annual Christmas tree lighting ceremony at Greenwood House? A quarter of a century, and she was retired even then. Had she loc

Oh, the joy of curling up on a winter’s afternoon to immerse oneself in a compelling crime novel or TV drama featuring victims and sleuths. The story will be set in a picturesque, seemingly safe place