Cold comfort

THE Janus Inn’s sign swung ominously in the gathering wind as Mairi and her bundle stood outside. Waiting for the coachman to appear, she looked towards the stout, ancient building, glad of the carous

I LONGED for my own mother. Sometimes grief does that, comes back when you least expect it to. I brought out three scarves for the mother and daughter to see and they laughed in delight. “You take one

RIGHT. I have come to a decision,” Mel said one weekend, as she cleared away the breakfast things. “In that case, I’m off. Bye, Mum, see you later!” “Wait, Seth. Stay exactly where you are! You have n

CHRISTMAS 1962. Bitterly cold. Elvis was crooning on my dad’s wind-up radio. I was nine. Mum was cleaning rich folks’ houses right up to Christmas Eve because Dad was out of work. But he had a plan. M

I’VE just seen my perfect Christmas,” I said, returning to the office after my lunchbreak. “Really?” Tina said brightly. “So have I. Where was yours?” “In a snow globe in Tamsin’s Gift shop. “It was a

CAROLS are playing softly, their melodies floating into the kitchen where Miranda is standing at the hob, gently stirring mulled wine. From the bubbling pot, the smell of cinnamon and clove wafts thro