Farm Nanny

You first stumbled across the farm 5 years ago, rosy fresh from high school and much younger than you thought you were. High in the mountains, the weather is brutal. In winter, storms throw branches against the caravan doors and from under a tumble of blankets your breath catches in the morning frost.  In summer,…

Looking out for Len

‘Len?’ I said, blowing gently on the teacup pressed against my chin, ‘shall I write an article about you?’ I’d been visiting him for a few months by then, blustering in a couple of times a week to boil the kettle and take the edge off of his lonely days. Len is 89. I started…

The Village

I’m home. After four years of dancing until 6am and walking home in sunshine, cramming for endless exams in the creaking, soft lit library and wrapping myself in a holey blanket to watch Planet Earth with a packet of biscuits in each hand and a bottle of wine on the table, I have returned to…