She means well, but...

• Bugler's Beginning 4 years ago June 1948: As the gangway landed with a jolt on the Tilbury quayside, Gabriel smoothed down his suit and took a deep breath. Everything was grey. So different to Jamaica’s fierce sunshine and loud colours.The people were grey too. Stevedores scuttling about like ants. Immigration officials lined...
• Ori and his Lunchbox 4 years ago George unplugged the sandwich toaster and looked across the expanse of Victoria Station. The arches of its roof reached to the heavens like the exposed ribs of some beached whale long since forgotten. Sparrows chittered up high, as heavy clouds spat the first sulky blobs of rain onto the glass. It...
• 22b Limekiln Lane 4 years ago Brenda watched the burgundy and custard-yellow No.14 bus sail past the café window and up Limekiln Lane. She should have been on it, after finishing her Agony Aunt slot at the local radio station. Instead, here she was, sitting in a café with chipped formica tables, a tea urn which had probably...
• Custard creams and comfort 4 years ago Agnes Bliss was content. Less than a month after being bundled into that pokey room at The Laurels in Billericay, she was back where she belonged. She smacked her lips as she drained the last dregs from her bone china teacup. Her cataract-dimmed eyes flitted around the living room taking all her...
• The Call 4 years ago Aloysius Lark was having a bad day. He’d woken with a snort at his desk as the morning light struggled to push through the grimy windows of his office. After wiping the drool from his mouth and peeling a piece of paper stamped FINAL DEMAND off his cheek, he’d taken a swig from the bottle at his...

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