Showing results by author "Rosalie Parker" in All Categories

Dusk is some way off and I stand at the bar, waiting to be served. I've been here often on my way home from work - It's half-empty on early summer evenings, and the staff are efficient and not averse to passing the time in conversation.

Although not compulsory, it was made clear to me that I was expected to attend the group. I could find no good excuse to avoid going to the first meeting.

Despite the argument they held hands until they reached the cinema, then she felt his fingers slip away. Next to her she saw not Callum but a man taking a photograph of the Art Deco building. Callum was nowhere to be seen.

The Birdcage was one of the surprisingly large number of establishments listed in directories of the most haunted pubs of England. It acquired its name during the Napoleonic Wars, when it was a jail for captured French soldiers.

Hannah held the bronze statuette up to the light. It was small, fitting easily in her hand. She was pretty sure that it was the likeness of a classical god, and it was a fairly standard representation, except for the eyes, the whites of which had been inlaid with ivory, while the pupils were little chips of verdigrised bronze.

The taxi picked up speed as the post-industrial sprawl of Sheffield gave way to the open hills of the Peak District. Ellen could see the driver glancing at her from time to time in the rear view mirror. Weary after her long rail journey she was grateful for his silence, even though it might have been useful to hear stories of 'The Big House'.

I made quite an exhibition of myself. I'm usually so shy I fade into the background, take my place at the end of the queue, stand in the corner of the room watching what other people do. It's not that I fear the lime-light, but I try to avoid being vulgar or pushy.

It didn't take long for Hesta to get ready, which was just as well as there was less than half an hour to finish her makeup, slip on the dress and pin her hair in a complicated style.

: It has been snowing all day the trees in the garden are hung with icicles, and Graham and Simon had to shovel off some of the thick white blanket that coated the drive so that Clive Mason could inch his car up to the house.

The feasting is done and Akui has lit the great fire. See how the flames crackle through the brushwood and sparks fly up into the darkness! Soon the timber will burn and warm us through the night and into the dawn.

Saskia could see that the ice near the shore was several centimetres thick. Pieter had told her that the lake never froze over entirely, that there was always an expanse of water at the centre which remained liquid.

I made quite an exhibition of myself. I'm usually so shy I fade into the background, take my place at the end of the queue, stand in the corner of the room watching what other people do.

I have been looking forward to being here so much and now it hardly seems real. The view from my bedroom window is of fields and sheep and a hill that is almost a mountain. It is very much like the landscape we dreamed of when we first watched the Series, only on TV the fields are framed by the screen. Here they seem to flow on for ever.

As he walked over the pebbles down to the sea, the sun was a riot of orange and red. Although it was late in the evening, seals still basked on the rocks beneath the cliff, unfazed by the clattering of his boots.

Clive was right to suspect there would be trouble when he set up his computer consultancy. Just as he began his publicity campaign, the local newspaper ran an article about him.

I was pretty angry when I first came to Coverdale, but I suppose that's not altogether surprising. Most of the world was angry in 1940.

The scent of lilac wafted across the garden. Melissa raised her head and watched as the zephyr lifted the skirts of the columbines and ruffled the blowsy peonies. The murmur of the bees did its best to lull her back into lethargy, but it was time to rouse herself: she had been lying in the sun too long.

Dusk was falling as Patrick slowed the car and pulled into a lay-by. Scots pines swayed in the strengthening wind. He had heard on the radio that a storm was blowing in.

15th February Morning: I have been looking forward to being here so much and now it hardly seems real. The view from my bedroom window is of fields and sheep and a hill that is almost a mountain.

The city was locked in a kind of permanent twilight. George could not get used to the sun hanging dimly halfway down the sky, its residual brightness hidden behind the clouds. This after it had risen at nine-thirty, with sunset due around four.