Emily Taylor

Alright, lads, fishing can wait, Victor decided, grabbing the landing net. Weve got to save the poor thing.

“Are you alright?” I asked gently, though I knew the answer would be silence.It was a rainy

“Excuse me, miss, do you know who I belong to?” a small voice asked. I turned to see a little

**Diary Entry** My mother, Eleanor, had been ill for a long time. Every day was a struggle for her, yet

“If the baby looks like himI’ll refuse… I’ll give it life and refuse!”

Every afternoon, as he left secondary school, Thomas walked along the cobbled streets with his backpack

The snow fell like icy needles from the grey sky, blanketing the cracked tarmac of the country lane with

“Your granddaughter’s here,” the voice announced. “Your mum’s come to pick

When your legs part so easily, taking responsibility seems impossiblebetter to abandon the child.

A baby at forty-one? Are you mad? Nigel bellowed at Emily. Women your age are already grandmothers!