The house of hopes and dreams

SYLVIA Havilland did not know what would be in her grandmother’s will, but she had a good guess. Granny Havilland had been dead six months, but only now were her lawyers able to summon a small family

PAM glanced up at the clock on the far wall of the classroom. Just half an hour to go until the summer holidays began. Six blissful pupil-free weeks, to be spent mostly gardening and binge watching pe

S a ffy and Neil had been married ...

JOYCE felt a knot in her stomach as she saw Bryony start to scroll through the apps on her mobile phone. She knew what her daughter would see, because she’d been monitoring the situation herself for a

IT was what Wendy’s mum would have called a “mulling things over” day. As Wendy gazed out of the café window, puffy clouds sailed in a sky of stone-washed denim. It was the sort of day she and Ray had

POSTERS for a touring circus blossomed in shop windows, and on any vacant stretch of boarding. Some were pasted on top of other posters, from many seasons ago. They were a snowstorm of colour to catch