“Look, I fetched some Fat Hen for you.' Jem offered me a bunch of wilting greens. I reached for the plants, rubbed the leaves with a snap of my finger and thumb and sniffed. They were as fresh as spinach… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“That baking day was the third day Mrs G had shut herself away in the stillroom, dosing herself with medicinal waters. As I rolled the pastry I lived out a fancy I had nourished, since the first apple blossom pinked… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
