Hubby recently confessed to an affair with a younger woman, who became pregnant. That was nine years ago and the child, a boy called Luca, is now eight. Hubby still visits the woman, Emily, and rents a flat for her, though he swears he doesn’t love her and maintains contact only because of Luca. I … More The Sacred and Profane Love Machine by Iris Murdoch
Back when I was learning the rules of football watching Match of the Day with my Dad, referee’s assistants were called linesmen, time added on at the end of the game was called injury time and there wasn’t a female in sight. Not on the pitch, nor pitch-side, nor in the studio. Football was something … More Injury Time by Beryl Bainbridge
I bet you’ll have come across one at some stage when you were growing up: the kid in the class who had no friends and was always alone. The kid who other kids avoided because they just weren’t right, somehow. The kid who even adults didn’t like, never asking why we didn’t invite them to … More The Children of Dynmouth by William Trevor
A few summers ago, Hubby and I took in the capitals of Scandinavia and the Baltic: Vilnius, Riga and Tallinn with their medieval old towns; scenic Helsinki; compact, cultured Oslo; and wonderful, wonderful Copenhagen. I’d had it in my head to go to Copenhagen ever since I was a kid growing up in the 1970’s … More Music and Silence by Rose Tremain
When I was a teenager studying for my ‘A’-levels, one of the English Literature set-texts was Waiting for Godot, and I struggled to understand it; particularly the relationship between Pozzo and Lucky. In case you’re not familiar with Beckett’s play, when they first appear Lucky has a rope around his neck, which Pozzo uses to … More The Bird of Night by Susan Hill
Hubby and I spent a week in France last summer to celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary. 30 years! Where did they go? When you’ve no kids, you live in a Peter Pan-like bubble where you never seem to get any older and time doesn’t seem to pass until…bam! A significant anniversary hits and it’s hard … More Every Man For Himself by Beryl Bainbridge
My Uncle Bobbie died just over a year ago. I’ve spent some time recently sorting through his old 78” records. He had a lovely singing voice in his day and for many years was a compere and singer at his local parish club. Unsurprisingly his old records reflect the music he most liked to sing: … More The Accidental by Ali Smith
My dad was a short man with a short fuse. Mostly affable, he could explode into violent rage at the smallest of provocations. As a child I witnessed him throw stuff in the air, hurl stuff to the floor, bang his fist on tables, and lash out at whichever unlucky sentient got in the way: … More Docherty by William McIlvanney
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