“O Val!” “O Mel!” They sit on the big iron roller in the shadow of the stands, looking across the perfectly mown pitch. The day is dazzling. Mel’s a groundsman, responsible for the green velvety stripes. Val sells ice cream. They grew up together in the same shabby Stockwell Street. He’s just proposed. She thinks, “I’ll never be this happy… Read it
Stephanie is a Londoner. She was almost born on the roof garden of Pontings - or was Derry and Toms? Luckily her mother got to St Mary Abbots Hospital just in time. Now she lives in Hackney.
Mud; mud everywhere. Even now, as I set down the tale, my stained notebook sheds crumbled earth, which lodges between the keys of my Mac. We crossed Bramley Road and entered a wild place. Within sight of the Tube Station, we glimpsed the scut of a rabbit disappearing amongst frozen molehills. The air so cold it almost crackled. You shattered… Read it
Look! There’s the Abbess, starlight giving an edge to the white crispness of her vaulted wimple shaped like the Abbey’s Gothic archway. Do you see another Abbess behind her and another, beyond? Endless Abbesses and arches, stretching through time? This place was already four centuries old when the Conqueror came. 1066. William has invaded, burning and sacking Saxon England. London… Read it