Yodel-ay-eee!

WHEN Kate had decided, at the age of fifty-five, to reduce her working hours and go part-time at her job, she had imagined filling her extra days off with all kinds of exciting adventures. Instead, sh

IT was one of those overheard snatches of conversations that immediately makes you keen to hear the rest of it. “You know, I really wasn’t in the mood to go,” the woman on the seat in front of me was

I made myself scrambled eggs for Sunday breakfast, accompanied by a toasted sourdough English muffin from the farmers’ market and my favourite coffee in my favourite mug. I had the latest Richard Osma

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

IT was the same mother and child Gwen had smiled at earlier in the street, when she’d been heading for her afternoon shift at the charity shop. The only difference was, they both looked very tired. Th

EACH year, before the holiday brochures landed, John’s seed catalogue arrived in the post. Ellen waited, knowing its arrival would bring a flood of memories she wasn’t strong enough to deal with. She