A Running Duck*

The flat phone rings.  “Hello?” I say. “Hello my lovely,” Seb says. My heart lifts as I hear his voice.  “My darling,” I say.  “How are things?”  Carrying the phone back to my bedroom, I crawl into bed. “Not too bad,” he says.  “Although we’ve just had a class on graphs and spreadsheets and I’m […]

The Field Of Blood*

“It’s a suffocating performance from Andy Murray,” the commentator says.  I’m watching the Davis Cup with the parentals.  Andy is pulverising the American Donald Young: he’s just taken the first two sets in thirty minutes or so.  Andy’s looking fit, tough and untroubled by his back or his opponent.  Which is good.  It’s a riotous […]