Taken At The Flood*

“Where are you, lovely? xxx” Seb’s message comes through at 4.59pm. “At the parentals,” I reply. The phone rings.   “That’ll be my boyfriend,” I say, reaching for it. “Hello?” I say.   “Hello my lovely,” Seb says. “How are you darling?” I say, feeling happy to hear his voice. “I seem to have flooded […]


Mr Churchill’s Secretary**

“As I sat in my place, listening to the speeches, a very strong sense of calm came over me, after the intense passions and excitements of the last few days.  I felt a serenity of mind and was conscious of a kind of uplifted detachment from human and personal affairs.  The glory of Old England, […]


The Cold Nowhere*

“So, did you get your project in on time?” I ask Seb when he calls last night. “Yes,” he says.  “It’s not my best work though.  And I didn’t realise till an hour before that we were going to have to do a presentation as well and…” “You’re good at those,” I say, chopping a […]


Someone Else’s Skin*

“Your skin looks terrible,” the panther says.  He’s draped over my desk at the office. “It will heal, eventually,” I tell him. “Seb will be appalled when he sees you,” the panther says, fixing me with his amber stare.  “You must have put on another half a stone since you last saw him, you’ve got […]


Polly Put The Kettle On*

Some good things: 1.  Met the Keeshond in the attached photo today.  He’s adorable. 2.  Have trial walk with him on Wednesday or Thursday. 3.  It’s the Davis Cup final next weekend. 4.  Whilst the heating has broken at the parentals, am at the flat where it is warm. 5.  Enjoyed some cuddles with the […]


Match Point For Murder*

“I’m not going to write a blog about this match if there isn’t anything to say,” I say to the parentals.  Thirteen minutes into the first semi-final and Novak is leading Rafa 3 – 0. “What do you mean?” Dad says, looking up from his Financial Times.   “Well if Novak just wins 6 – […]


Two Sets To Murder*

“It’s great to see Rafa playing well again,” Mum says, sipping her glass of white wine.  We’re watching the tennis recorded earlier in the day. Rafa is looking good: he’s just broken David Ferrer’s serve and held his first service game to love.  He’s looking fit and purposeful: bouncing around the back of the court. […]


The Beast Must Die*

4.15pm and already it’s almost dark outside.  Am writing this on my bike at the gym.  Didn’t make it here this morning, due to an unusually late night last night with my writing chums.  So am here now, despite epic levels of can’t-be-bothered.  Know that will be pleased with self, even if just write this […]


The Storm Without*

“I’ve found some ‘Winston Churchill’ daffodil bulbs for you,” Mum says, kneeling on the decking in my garden. “Thank you, Mum,” I say.  Who would have thought that Adulthood would consist of counting-down-the-days-till-can-see-my-parentals each week, I think.   After Mum has planted my bulbs, she tidies my bookshelves. “Mum, please can you help me change […]


Time, Murderer, Please*

“So, I’m having trouble getting to sleep at the moment,” Seb says when he calls last night.  “I’ve just got so much work to do and I fall asleep but I wake up every hour and…” “Maybe it would be a good idea to get back to boxing and the gym?” I say.  “That will […]