検索キーワード： 著者 "Rosalie Parker" すべてのカテゴリー

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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 phone call had been taken by Sandy, the office clerk, who had a habit of jotting down almost everything the caller said. This was useful for Michelle, who as Planning Enforcement Officer was required to make an entry in the planning file before she went out to investigate.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Selena lived on the other side of town, several miles away from Karl's house. Karl had not seen her for some days, and, however many times he rang, she was not answering her phone.

Selena lived on the other side of town, several miles away from Karl's house. Karl had not seen her for some days, and, however many times he rang, she was not answering her phone. Since his driving ban came into force he had been unable to take her out into the countryside and to pubs on the trips that had formed much of their romantic life.

It really is a lovely day. I'm not used to sitting in the garden, basking in the pleasant weather and enjoying the fruits of my labour. I spend most of my time here weeding and pruning, so I'm grateful for the opportunity to laze around for a change, watching the flower heads bob gently in the soft breeze, listening to the drowsy hum of the bees as they gorge on the comfrey blossoms.

Finding a suitable father for your babies is a haphazard business; there are usually several false starts before you fall in love, move in, get married. If you're lucky, children follow swiftly. Then, without warning, you discover that your husband has done something that hurts you to the quick, destroys your spirit, sears your soul.

She assessed the damage. The coffee-stained duvet, charred by cigarette burns, was stuffed in the wardrobe. Ranged around the rubbish bin were several empty beer bottles lying on their sides. Unrinsed mugs and glasses stood everywhere and damp towels had been dumped on the couch.