Roast beef with Yorkshire pudding accompanied by "roast potatoes, vegetables, and horseradish sauce" is considered by National Geographic as the national dish of England. 

Roasted Maris Pipers

If I’m going to tell my side of it, I have to do it right. I have to time it right for maximum impact.

Five Words

Malcolm never seasons his food; says he likes bland. Margaret can’t decide if that’s an insult to her, but she can’t deny she’s plain. 

A Matter of Taste

My dad died ninety-nine times, and he always came back. I liked to imagine, each time, that he was renewing. 

My Dad Died One Hundred Times

She will tell the stranger she is de-sensitised whilst giving him the best blow job he’s ever had.

She will show him the scar on her stomach that proves she had a son.

Grief Smells Like Pot Smoke

British Gas doesn’t make allowances for toads.

Meter Box Blues

In his head were all manner of fantastical ideas and he drew them, daily and manically, on the walls, the doors, the windows with permanent marker. He wanted Liz to see the visions he had, to make her understand the urgency. 

Fly Away

Her grandad always loved science. He’d once told her there’s about twenty watts of power in the average body – enough to power a light bulb. She peers down at him now, all shrunken and sunken on the pillow. 

The Repurposing of Harold Foster 

As you lie on your deathbed, the nurse asks me for help. Your body is drawing down the moon and bathing in its spotlight like a beautiful actress on the stage.

‘She’s started speaking in tongues,’ the nurse says, and I look down at you...

Mother. Earth. Tongue

If you become perfect, he will love you.

If you lose weight, pay thousands for veneers to hide the shame of your snaggled mouth, get breast implants so your body conforms to his hands and his desires, wax your flesh to sheer, silky smoothness...

Love by Gaslight: A Preview

When I shave him he moves his mouth and face around like he's chewing an invisible sweet. He offers up his neck with absolute trust; I glide the blade down beneath his chin and over his Adam's apple. It's massive, like he's swallowed a rock.

Only About Love

The simple beauty of everyday things; that’s what hurts the most. A bird landing in a puddle, a cherry blossom petal riding a breeze, a lamb bouncing on velvet green. The wind teasing a branch, prising its fingers loose...

Mo Chroi

Cell – a place of incarceration. If you have weapons on you and no documents, you will be thrown into one.

For Your Boy

Police have released a CCTV image of a man they would like to interview in connection with the disappearance of Caroline Marshall, the estate agent who was last seen in Bristol more than eight months ago.


Awakening

Through the crackled panel of the door you see him lying at the foot of the stairs; a grisly painting in mosaic. Blue of the pyjamas he's been wearing since Thursday, white of the skin that never sees sunshine, and crimson of something terrible... 

Breaking Dad

I’ve looked for Heidi everywhere.

The first place I always look is under my pillow in the morning, because I swear I hear her voice in the night. I’m always surprised when all I see is my fitted under-sheet – clean and white and totally Heidi free.

Looking for Heidi in the Glove Box

What if your life was so messed up that you could see no way out?  What if you spent every night in a cold sweat and every day looking over your shoulder?  What if you’d done something you were so ashamed of that your whole body shook with terror..

Debbi Voisey

Selected work