Stolen threads

MILK?” Mrs Evans loomed over Alice Campbell’s teacup with a milk jug. The humidity in the tea shop was beginning to wilt the fabric violets in Alice’s little hat. She could see a few of the tiny flowe

GWEN slipped off her pumps and poured herself a cuppa from the brown teapot with its knitted cover. She sighed contentedly as she leaned back in the kitchen chair and picked up her post. It had been a

Iris climbed down from the donkey cart that had given her a lift from Penzance station, being careful not to ladder her best stockings, and walked up the narrow lane to Nantolven Farm. There was no si

Nothing much happened in the village DS Dottie Reed was posted to – until a body was found

Eliza had no idea of her true love’s fate – but now others were in danger too

S tella is quicker than usual eating her breakfast. Taking worried glances out of the window just in case the cornflower blue sky might fill with dark, angry clouds, the sun obscured behind a mass of