It doesn't seem that long ago. The place hasn't changed, but you have. We used to come here as a family and you ran around the cobbled street and dashed in and out of the old shops and took a trip on the old trams and we had lunch in the cafe and watched the … Continue reading WHERE DOES THE TIME GO?
'Digger!' he shouted from the back seat. Where did it come from, this fascination with any construction or agricultural machine? Tractors, cement mixers, dumper trucks, combine harvesters, even bin lorries - all of them elicited a squeal of joy upon sight. And so we all joined in with my son's enthusiasm. 'So it is, that's … Continue reading DIGGER!
'When the seagulls follow the trawler, it's because they think sardines will be thrown into the sea.' Ah, Eric Cantona. Those were the days of proper football: cult heroes; muddy pitches; crumbling stadiums and playing for the love of the game. Then the money men came and ripped the soul out of the sport he loved. … Continue reading WHEN THE SEAGULLS FOLLOW THE TRAWLER
Every Sunday through that summer at eleven they had sat on the same bench, Patrice and his younger brother Henri, waiting while their parents attended church. At five past eleven the fountain would spring into life as the gardener, Hervé, turned it on. Father gave them a toy boat to sail around the pond. On the warmest … Continue reading BROTHERS
He took the wriggling bait and skewered it onto the hook. With a practiced sweep of the arm and flick of the wrist, he threw his line out into the river and then took up his usual seat perched on the end of the pier. When he had first started fishing from this pier there … Continue reading THE FISHERMAN