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To my September girl
You stepped silently down the stairs, gliding almost, and quietly joined us in the kitchen. The skirt that grazed your ankles a year ago when you first wore a uniform is now swishing around your knees....
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Same place, different century
Twenty-six years ago, my parents took the ferry to France and made their way down to St Jean de Monts, with four of us rattling around in the back-seat. The roof-rack that held our suitcases was...
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Sun through clouds
Driving along the coast road, the September sun is filtering through the white sky. Mixed weather is what the forecasters call it. Silence from the back; a Saturday football roundup on the radio. Tired...
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Childhood Christmas Memories – There Was Almost Always Snow
The smell of one-sided toast with melted butter – it was always done on just one side under the grill, crisp and melty. Tea for the grown-ups, milk for us. Sitting by the fire that my grandmother had...
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On Top of The World
We go off-road before we even start. Clara rushes across the grass, shrieking at the others to follow. They’re going to climb a tree they say. We follow, a little behind. Watching three small figures...
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The Goodbye
We stand, then look back and see the others sitting. We exchange glances, we’ve been caught getting it wrong. Best we stick to the plan now – we stay on our feet. The front row do too, but maybe that’s...
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Love at first sight
The voice in my ear gives me the go ahead – I’ve completed my self-imposed time running on roads and forest paths, now Runkeeper says I can go onto the beach. I turn and run towards the gate....
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The Girls (and Boys) on the Train
Once upon a long ago, I used to get the Dart into work every now and then – back in the pre-kid, pre-crèche, pre-car-space days. It was not so much an adventure as a trial by fire back then, and as I...
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Breathing In All The Spaces
I promised myself (not just an in-the-air promise – an actual written down promise) that the next time I had a lull, I’d take a morning for myself. And here I am – almost all current deadlines met,...
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On Our Own Riviera
We run along the path, glimpses of blue bobbing up and down in time with our steps. Down we go to the edge of the road, then we wait for the green man to stop the slow-moving but determined traffic....
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Christmas Through Their Eyes
My eyes water. Wind, sharp and stinging, pushes my hood down and drives me back. I lean in, but not in a Sheryl Sandberg way. I’ve got 58 minutes and five tasks. Stocking fillers. A fancy gift box. A...
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