CAMILLE gulped down her cup of coffee, snatched up her keys and hurriedly hauled back the living room curtains. It wasn’t like her to oversleep, and of course it had to be this morning, when she had a

GRAN, can’t you do something about him? I’m trying to concentrate on my homework here.” Wendy’s thirteen-year-old granddaughter had the eye roll and withering tone down perfectly as she motioned towar

G av drove home, glancing up at the ...

Helen Harris always enjoyed her afternoon tea with Martha Evert, and as she knocked on the door carrying a treat of two chocolate muffins, she looked forward to an hour or two of catching up with her

MARIE peered out of the front room window, wondering if people would be on time. And not only that – what if nobody showed? She let the net curtain drop, listening to the kettle whistling in the kitch

GAVIN and I turned to look at each other on the sofa as the television credits rolled. “I know we’ve agreed for a long time that ‘Inspector Bletchley’ is our favourite programme,” I said. “But that wa