Pick of the plums

To hide my new garden’s nakedness, I planted trees. Damson and mirabelle plum, ‘Discovery’ and reinette apples, two pears, a quince and a ‘Nottingham’ medlar. There was a purple-leaved filbert, a ‘Che

EACH year, before the holiday brochures landed, John’s seed catalogue arrived in the post. Ellen waited, knowing its arrival would bring a flood of memories she wasn’t strong enough to deal with. She

I LIFT my head to the weak sun and give thanks for having survived another winter. It’s good to see the lane is passable, even if there are ruts and puddles. However, I can still see the bones of icy,

IVY loved being a mother. From the moment Toby was delivered into her arms, she’d felt a sense of rightness that this was what she’d been born to do. But she’d also had to learn to accept that being a

BY the time spring began edging into Fileby, Margaret had almost forgotten the feel of warm air on her face. All winter the valley had held its breath. The fields were a single quiet sheet, the hedges

SIPPING coffee with Paula in their favourite café, Liz correctly guessed her friend’s first question. “Well, how did your mother-in-law’s visit go?” Liz smiled. “Very well. Justine is lovely, funny an