Being Sarah Peterson

The rain poured down on Lower Strangling as September turned into October. Guardian journalist Sarah Peterson could hear the raindrops patting on her 15th Century Manor as she sat in her cosy living room, writing her review of the recent Conservative Party Conference in which they turned from a British political party to a clichedContinue reading “Being Sarah Peterson”

Conversations in the Hangman’s Noose

“It’s crazy, all these people in masks. You would have thought we were in the middle of a pandemic,” said one of the first few visitors to Lower Strangling to have a pint in the Hangman’s Noose since March. “Well, that’s because we are”, replied John, the publican, as he poured another pint of ThrockmortonContinue reading “Conversations in the Hangman’s Noose”

Anarchy at the VE Day Memorial Service

The sun was shining on the picturesque Warwickshire village of Lower Strangling. Usually at this time of year the village was teeming with tourists, but today not even the residents were out and about. This was due to the British government issuing a lockdown on the entire country following an outbreak of a deadly diseaseContinue reading “Anarchy at the VE Day Memorial Service”