Gone With The Wind*

“Is that the toast coming up, already?” Mum says, sitting on the arm of the chair, peering into my sick bucket. 11.15 am.  Gone With The Wind Has been playing for forty five minutes or so.  Atlanta is burning.  Am on all fours in front of the television, vomiting into the mop bucket. “Yes,” I […]

Sleeping Murder*

“Everything is ready,” MadFatRunner says.  She’s making a new dish for us: warm quinoa salad with halloumi and roasted red peppers.  “We need an easy thing to cook that isn’t the Omelette,” she says,  “Do you want me to do anything?” I say, as I rest in the nest, eating pickled cucumbers and drinking gin […]

Tickets To The Devil*

“I have to write the blog,” I say to the parentals, on arrival at our hotel.  It’s the little Art Deco establishment where we spent a night earlier in the week. “Don’t you want a bath?  Or to change for dinner?” Mum says, gazing at my pink dress.  Have been sleeping in it in the […]

At Bertram’s Hotel*

In Abroad.  Staying in a charming little Art Deco hotel.  Could be in an Agatha Christie novel.  Manage not to get murdered in the night, which is good.   Am writing this in the hotel courtyard where there are olive trees.  “Look: they’ve got olives on them.  Put that in the blog,” Mum says. We […]

Black Mist*

They’re filming Black Mist: apparently it’s a Poirot novel although I’ve never heard of it, which is strange and unsettling as I’m sure I know all of them.  There’s a large cast.  The plot revolves around a gang of girls in their early twenties, which is unusual.  One of these girls is involved with a […]

Chianti With My Unicorn

Reasons to be cheerful: 1.  Have a unicorn.  Have always wanted one. 2.  See brother in three weeks. 3.  Am back together with Seb. 4.  And going to see him in ten days time. 5.  Hopefully we can go here: http://www.terreaterre.co.uk 6.  Watching Inspector Lynley for the first time in ages. 7.  Soon is supper […]

The Stud

“So, at the guide dog centre, they’re showing us around,” MediaChap says. “They bring one of the studs out to meet us. And he’s a gorgeous big yellow Labrador but he’s in a bad mood: usually when he comes out of his room it’s to mate, and now he’s got to meet a whole lot […]

In Bruges

Have a Date tonight: first one for a couple of weeks. Am nervous as he looks absolutely gorgeous in his photos. He’s half-Belgian/half-Danish: lots of shaggy brown hair, great cheekbones, wide mouth with naughty grin, hazel eyes. He’s not a Bright Young Thing either: this one is forty. A man of Experience. Works in telecoms […]

The Murder At The Vicarage

“Do you think the blog has become boring?” I ask Mum. Mum looks up from The Times crossword. She is wearing periwinkle blue eyeshadow. “Not at all darling, but you give some of these chaps the most terrific build-up, and then they just disappear, never to be seen again.” “That’s not my fault,” I say. […]

The Case Of The Discontented Soldier

“I can pick you up, if you give me your address,” a new Bright Young Thing texts. Not Bright Young Naked Thing from yesterday – this one is 29, has dirty blond hair and green eyes and has moved from the South of France to a village near my parental home. His profile states “can […]