Theres a mum and theres a daughter and in my case the daughter turned out to be my mates little girl, Emma. Wed gone off on...
Dear Diary, When the heavy oak door finally shut behind Mrs. Margaret Whitfield, the interview room felt suddenly intimatejust three of us: Emily Clarke, my little...
Peter said calmly, almost kindly: Why should you work, love? I earn enough. You look after the house, us, the children when they arrive. I believed...
What a granddaughter you have, William D., darkeyed and whitetoothed. In whom does such a child appear? Not yours, perhaps? Of course shes mine, sir, she...
Richard Salter stands motionless for a long moment. The world he has convinced himself he can purchasepeople, conscience, a futurecrumbles in a handful of sentences spoken...
Emma Barker was a blonde, and her husband James was a darkhaired, charismatic man. They adored each other, and two years after their wedding a daughter...
Connor Cavendish sat in his wheelchair, staring through a dustcovered pane at the street outside. Bad luck, really: the window of his ward faced the hospitals...
When I scribbled Resignation Mary Ellis on the pristine white sheet, it wasnt a moment of weakness. It was the first line of a plan Id...
When the door clicked shut behind Margaret Whitmore, only three people were left in the office Emily, her little daughter, and the tall gentleman in the...
April 14th I waited by the gate for a black limousine, its polished surface swallowing the streetlights of London like a dark mirror. The driver bowed...
I stopped ironing Jamess shirts the day he dismissed my work as just sitting at home. Come on, Emily, what...
James said he was off on a work trip, but I found his car parked outside my best friends flat....
The brides mother, Margaret Whitfield, slid me into the worst table with a sardonic smile. Know your place, she sneered....
Rain tapped against the sill of the little rented twobedroom flat. James watched the droplets trace strange patterns on the...
Granddad, yes! Sam, a lanky boy wrapped in a coat far too big for him, clutched his grandfathers hand, shuffling...
The Keller manor in Surrey sat poised in its immaculate, chilly silence most days, its marble corridors echoing only with...
The brides mother, Margaret Whitfield, slotted me into the worst table with a smug grin. Know your place, she said....
28October2025 Today I sat at the kitchen table, the old brass kettle humming, and tried to untangle the knot of...
The High Street was noisy today, just like any spring day here in London when the city finally wakes up...
Emily was racing to work, terribly latean absolute nightmare! If she didnt duck through the turnstile before the editorinchief, shed...