A vintage year

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

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

It has been a long drive, but I need to get as far away from the city as possible. Somewhere near Andover the stupidity of what I’m doing hits me and I pull into a service station, get out of the car

So much went unspoken in her past – so much love never expressed

I LOOKED at my allocated “bed” underneath the back window of the caravan and wondered. Firstly, about my chances of getting a good night since I was already sleeping badly. And secondly, what madness

A g lint of colourful rays caught her ...