I hear it still. As I lay down my pen and take to my bed, I am aware of the bow being drawn across the bridge and the music rises into the night sky. It is far away and barely audible - but there it is! A pizzicato. Then a tremelo. The style is unmistakable. It is Sherlock Holmes who is playing. It must be. I hope with all my heart that he is playing for me . . .

I didn't set fire to the building." "No, but you did pull it into the river." "That put the fire out!

Was it fate? Was it destiny?" "I think it was Alan Blunt.

I don't know anything!' Tim(Caleb) wailed. He'd never spoken a truer word in his life.

Sometimes it's the tiniest things that can mean the difference between life and death.

I vividly remember being 14. That was the age when I started to get happy: I started being a writer and stopped being a loser.

She tried to smile sympathetically, but with her face it wasn't quite possible.