Frances was most dreadfully popular. She always had been. Even as a young child the other children had vied for her affection. They’d offered her the best of their packed lunches, first slice of whatever cake was on the go and always allowed her the much-coveted front seat of the school bus; the only seat which -on account of its proximity to the driver- was not covered in lumps of previously chewed gum.
Read MoreI had, by this stage, amassed a tremendous fortune. I was also advanced in age, well passed the three score and ten allotted to me by the Psalmist. I had no heir, no lover, nor even an obvious relative with whom to entrust my vast fortune. The matter of what should be done with my estate was weighing heavily upon me.
Read MoreIt has yet to be called an epidemic. Only two thousand cases have been identified, though the Press claim the problem to be far more widespread and criminally under-reported.
Read MoreMondays, Wednesdays and Fridays I do for old Mrs Weatherby who lives in the big house next to the station. The poor dear’s all by herself now and can’t manage even the most basic cleaning. Tuesdays and Thursdays I work as a mannequin at Lucie’s.
Read MoreLest you begin to think there’s only one party with any sway in this godforsaken hole of a village, let me take the opportunity to remind you about the Nephew Amusing Party.
Read MoreGood afternoon friends. Welcome to Chimneys. I dare say you’ve all had a chance to freshen up and avail yourselves of a cocktail on the lawn. First off, can I thank you for agreeing to this clandestine get together?
Read MoreThe new vicar was well-established in St Mary Mead. He’d conducted several funerals (all elderly), and a spate of christenings, (all of the infant variety), and was limbering up for the summer wedding season which would be particularly busy this year.
Read MoreThe first time your wife died you were terribly sad. You cried and got on like a child. You drunk yourself blind with the chaps from college. You swore you’d never touch another woman. Your wife was the only girl for you.
Read MoreI turned forty this morning. I’ve been telling people I was forty since the morning after my thirty eight birthday. I thought it might lessen the blow of actually turning forty. It didn’t.
Read MoreOh won’t you come to our Friendly Girls’ Evenings. The regular crew are ever so nice.
Read MoreIt had long been Mr Fish’s dream to attend an English country house party of the sort which last for a single weekend. He’d read of them in the works of PG Wodehouse and other novels of a certain ilk and had developed a rather fixed notion of what such parties should involve.
Read MoreThis was not Anne’s first stint as a secretary. After school she’d trained as a typist and worked in a junior capacity at the local library, firing out letters about overdrawn books and unpaid fines. It was simple work and not at all taxing.
Read MoreThe acrobat was born with wrists of steel. Her mother had not envisioned this though later, with hindsight she will recall the afternoon her lover -the acrobat’s father- lay beside her on the living room couch, affixing fridge magnets to the dome of her belly.
Read MoreWhile I’m in Paris, I’ve been writing a Postcard Story every day based on the art I’ve been able to see. It’s been a great excuse to get out and visit some of the city’s amazing museums. Here’s my first week of tiny art stories.
Read MoreAstley Priors was a prime location for a stake out. Being a red brick house of solid girth and at least two substantial storey’s height it offered all the space a discerning villain might need to conceal several loutish henchman, a kidnap victim and at least one amateur detective gone rogue.
Read MoreMrs Emily Inglethorpe of Styles Court, Essex stands at the front of the village hall. As she clears her throat and clasps her hands, rows and rows of cheap-hatted locals gaze up at her, their faces pinking in the heat.
Read MoreHaving ploughed my way through all seven Harry Potters this year I have decided to set myself a reading goal I might actually enjoy next year. So, in 2020 I’ll be attempting to read all sixty six of Agatha Christie’s crime novels in consecutive order.
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