By Richard Mather An olive grove. Night. The sound of approaching footsteps. SOCRATES: ‘Swounds! A dark day for strong flowers and cool...

By Richard Mather It is dark. And cold. Now I shiver. But I am calm. And now it has begun. Despite the waiting. I am past caring. It is...

By Richard Mather Carlotta was riding on a Manchester-bound train, with a copy of Eliot’s Four Quartets in her left hand. She was gazing...