The remote town in the Welsh valleys was a wonderful, magical - but sometimes dangerous - place in which to to grow up. It was there that Iffy, Bessie, Fatty and Billy experienced a plague of frogs one summer, stumbled upon a garden full of dancing statues, found a skull with its front teeth miss...
It was cold and dank inside the cave, just the echoing plop of water dripping from the stalactites into the rock pools. Plip Plip Plip. He pushed his hands down into his pockets and whistled softly. He wondered had Sister Immaculata stood right here where he was standing now when she’d deci...
If it didn’t rain it tamped down. But all of that strange July it boiled until the tar on the roads bubbled and sucked and got all over Bessie Tranter’s new cotton socks and made her cry buckets. It stewed and simmered until the silver fish gasped in the black mud trickle of the river...
The sun burned ferociously in a sky the colour of the Virgin’s robes and a warm breeze blew the last wisps of clouds aimlessly towards the horizon. The port was a terrifying madhouse of a place. The air was filled with dust and noise, clattering and banging, shrieking and ...
Her spirits lifted as soon as she looked at the painting of Maria Paparella smiling broadly and holding out the loaf of focaccia as though it were a gift. She wondered if Maria baked the bread for the other people whose portraits were in the book. Had Luca Roselli, the handsome boy with the dark ...