I started my career as a writer when we – my husband and myself – were living with my elderly father and looking after him. As his condition deteriorated, the demands on us increased till it became difficult to sustain any outside commitments. I adored my father and...

July brings two endings:  the first draft of the new novel and a house move. As to the novel, of course a first draft is only the beginning of the end. All the business of first readers, publishers, re-drafting and editing lies ahead. But that daily assignment with...

Picture: Newcastle Keelmen   All through Boxing Day the east wind roared against the house and lashed the slates with sleety horizontal rain. In my attic office the noise of the wind was relentless, battering the roof, rocking the windows, so that you could be aware...

All the bodies were lying in the same way: necks drooped submissively, eyes closed, black wings folded into the white belly, the claws gripped together and stretched out behind. I was sad when I saw the first one, but I accepted it. Birds do die at sea, do wash up on...

I am not writing this week.  Instead, I am doing the accounts for our business, a holiday house in Berwick, and it is a tedious task. The bank statements must be matched with receipts, the spouse harassed over missing items, mystery payments tracked down, and then it...