IRIS walked slowly to the front door of her Victorian villa in Fairley, a sleepy Sussex village. It had begun, she fumed silently – the “invasion” of her home. Of course, she’d been expecting it. Her

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

Are you sure, love? Why not go on a nice holiday with a friend instead?” “Honestly, Mum,” Lucy said, a touch impatiently. “I’m thirty, not a teenager! I want to travel, be on my own for a while. Since

The mini digger we hired was bright yellow. It sounded like a bus and belched out black smoke. Phil, looking like he sat upon a child’s toy, aimed it down the garden after the hire company unloaded it

TOM! What are you doing here?” I stopped gazing at the empty space in the centre of the table, to throw myself into my fiancé’s arms. “You’re not supposed to be here until tonight,” I told him. “I dec

THERE we go. I’ll print out a couple of photos to pop in with this for Patricia and it will be ready to post.” Sheila slid her letter into the envelope. Ashley, who was lounging on the couch stroking