By the river’s edge

Mary was as good as any lad – and she was going to prove it

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

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

I’D seen an advertisement in my father’s newspaper for women to work on the canal boats. It said applicants should be of a robust constitution. I’m quite robust, so why not? I’d give it a go. “Look, D

THE last specks of rain of the previous night’s storm pattered against the widow of the drawing-room. Meryl Stewart sat at the keyboard of her baby grand, working her way through the piano arrangement

Georgie lived to dance – and now her dream job was within her grasp