Fen McCabe, at 28, has only ever been in love with one man. To her sisters’
exasperation, he’s a 19th-century sculptor called Julius Fetherstone.
Starting a new job at Trust Art, Fen dreams of her hero and his missing
masterpiece. Her family and friends hope that she might just meet a living,
breathing man instead.
Matt Holden, turning 30, edits Trust Art’s magazine. Newly single, he’s
under instruction from his flatmate, the rakish Jake, to stick to flings with
no strings attached. But then he meets Fen…
James Caulfield, not quite 50, is forever fending off the advances of the
women he gardens for in Derbyshire and forever fending off his bank manager.
To improve his finances, he must sell the small Fetherstones he owns. Who
better to advise him than Fen?
From the hustle and bustle of London to the tranquil beauty of Derbyshire,
Fen develops her own north-south divide. Sexual attraction, sculpture and
severe indecision collide. Is it possible to fall in love with two very
different men at the same time
Read more about what happened to Fen
Well, on February 4th 2003, Georgia Jeannette came flying into this world (I’m not exaggerating). I had one contraction at 9.30 pm. I went upstairs to hang out the washing. I had another contraction at 9.35 pm and after that I couldn’t speak, let alone stand upright to load the dishwasher! My brother arrived at 10 pm to look after Felix and we arrived at hospital with just under 20 minutes to go. My language was choice and colourful to say the least but no one seemed to mind! The lovely midwife (hullo Charlotte) kept me sane by cleverly pretending that Epidural Man was just round the corner. Actually, there was no time even for any gas-and-air, let alone something stronger. The yoga ball, my whale-music cd’s, my aromatherapy candle, my extremely expensive facial spritzer, didn’t even make it into the hospital! I can safely say I have now done the Natural Birth/ Earth Mother thing… In fact, when Georgia was born and Andy told me we had a daughter, I hadn’t a clue what he was on about. It had all happened so quickly I really didn’t have the chance to realize I was in labour – let alone that I now had my second child and was no longer pregnant! Our little girl is an absolute poppet – please indulge me putting so many photos of her on the website!
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Hullo folks. All is ticking along here – though I am now officially without horse and consequently, still a little sulky. Oh well, in a couple of years, I’ll be sure to raid Felix’s pocket money and buy myself a new one… I’ve been out to Spain for lots of long weekends at a gorgeous place we bought last year with Andy’s brother. It’s near Marbella but by a suprisingly unspoilt stretch of coastline which is a protected nature reserve. Though this means lots of stunning wild flowers scattered through the dunes, it also means an army of shiny black beetles (also protected). Give me a 17 hands stallion any day – bugs and creepy crawlies I CANNOT cope with! I tiptoe and hyperventilate my way to the beach. Felix has discovered that sand is quite tasty and filling and that licking sea water from his toes is thirsty work. Luckily, he hasn’t tried to eat the beetles. Yet. His current obsession is to drink through a straw – he takes great sips which pucker up his face, then grins widely (er, wildly?) for approval, though this means most the juice flows back out of his mouth… He is walking now too – though it’s more of a drunken stagger. He’s said his first words – “Garden” followed by “Daddy” and “Juice” but as yet, nothing sounding remotely like Mummy, Ma, Mum, Mother, Mama. I’m trying not to take it personally….
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Catriona McCabe, 28, only ever known as Cat, is trying to improve her career as a sports journalist and move on from a failed relationship. What better way to do both than follow the Tour de France one Summer?
From Provence to Paris, up the Pyrenees and over the Alps, Cat and an entourage of podium girls, anxious wives, autocratic team directors and seasoned hacks pursue the ruthless riders. With sex, drugs, lashings of lycra, glistening thighs,large bulges and larger egos, the soap opera that is the Tour de France unfolds with Cat’s life frequently mirroring the peaks, perils and pace of the race.
“Freya North is on a roll…stamped with foxy, feelgood flair” – She Magazine
“A funny romantic romp” – Cosmopolitan
Read more about what happened to Cat
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