WOULD you look at the man!” Maggie said. She wasn’t much to look at herself, being as black as sin from the coal dust. She’d just finished a shift at the colliery screens, picking lumps of coal out of

The myriad tracks and carriages of the British rail network have proved fruitful inspiration for generations of writers, says Deborah Nicholls-Lee

WHAT was the man thinking of when he did his shopping? Jessie thought. Two huge, brown paper parcels spilled food on to the kitchen table. Enough to feed a family for a fortnight at least. Slices of t

THE Janus Inn’s sign swung ominously in the gathering wind as Mairi and her bundle stood outside. Waiting for the coachman to appear, she looked towards the stout, ancient building, glad of the carous

HELEN anxiously closed her curtains. The wind was tearing around the house, slamming rain against the windows and harassing the trees. The rain hadn’t stopped since lunchtime. She’d spent this first d

MILLICENT BRADFORD dithered about going down to Portsmouth on the train. It was cold, that January of 1942, and obviously there was a war on. Travelling about was frowned upon, unless one really had t