“Happy New Year!” we say to one another, but do we say it in optimistic expectation or in fearful hopes: beseeching Fate that 2014 is not the year when one’s ordained calamity strikes? A bit of both, but increasingly the latter as we accumulate more new years, I suppose. We ... Read More...
Life
We are honoured once again to publish Old Key's Almanacke, a series of unerringly accurate (as you will see from the last edition) predictions for the coming twelvemonth... January : Police swoop on all living octogenarian light entertainers not yet arrested under Operation Yewtree. February : Twitcher spots corncrake through binoculars. March : ... Read More...
A few years ago bookseller Steerforth came across a remarkable diary, which he began to publish on his blog and which we now serialise on The Dabbler. If you're new to Derek, you can catch up with the previous instalments here. This week: 1986, and Derek faces financial disaster... 1986 appears ... Read More...
Toby Ash has just enjoyed a long weekend in Palermo. Just don’t mention the M word... From the moment you land, it’s pretty hard to avoid the mafia in Sicily. Palermo’s Falcone-Borsellino airport is named after two prominent judges slain in the early 1990s for successfully pursing the Cosa Nostra. On ... Read More...
Rita is struck by a Proustian recollection of her time in an eccentric 1950s orphanage... Last night I dreamt I went to Webbery again. The winding drive with massed rhododendrons on either side, the grey stone manor house shining in the moonlight… I’ve always wanted to write that. And it’s true. I ... Read More...
At the science museum the girls were so absorbed in making rocket mice that Mrs B gave me leave to sneak off to the 11 o’clock Planetarium show. The Planetarium is housed in a giant mirrorball that sprouts like an abscess into Millennium Square. I slouched in a comfy seat ... Read More...
A few years ago bookseller Steerforth came across a remarkable diary, which he began to publish on his blog and which we now serialise on The Dabbler. If you're new to Derek, you can catch up with the previous instalments here. This week, the winter and Christmas of 1984... Today's extracts ... Read More...
Mr Ferman’s office was on the ground floor of a tall Victorian townhouse near to the centre of Exeter. There was no buzzer so I knocked on the door. ‘Come in,’ said somebody, and I entered a giant heap of files with a few walkways cut through it. I have ... Read More...
A few years ago bookseller Steerforth came across a remarkable diary, which he began to publish on his blog and which we now serialise on The Dabbler. If you're new to Derek, you can catch up with the previous instalments here. This week: 1980, a year of triumph and shocking ... Read More...
In the sports hall a thin middle-aged man called Richard was hopping up and down on one leg while holding his arms out to twist an imaginary steering wheel. Before him, an unruly row of four-year olds enthusiastically tried to copy, with mixed results. And seated behind the children was ... Read More...
