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Inside the lodge that s in one of the UK s loveliest riverside spots

Inside the lodge that s in one of the UK s loveliest riverside spots
msn.com - get the latest breaking news, showbiz & celebrity photos, sport news & rumours, viral videos and top stories from msn.com Daily Mail and Mail on Sunday newspapers.

Hidden gems within a 90 minute drive of Glasgow

Hidden gems within a 90 minute drive of Glasgow
heraldscotland.com - get the latest breaking news, showbiz & celebrity photos, sport news & rumours, viral videos and top stories from heraldscotland.com Daily Mail and Mail on Sunday newspapers.

Leading the charge! Can I make it from Land s End to John o Groats in an electric car? | Electric, hybrid and low-emission cars

Leading the charge! Can I make it from Land s End to John o Groats in an electric car? | Electric, hybrid and low-emission cars
theguardian.com - get the latest breaking news, showbiz & celebrity photos, sport news & rumours, viral videos and top stories from theguardian.com Daily Mail and Mail on Sunday newspapers.

Rose Nicolson Part 1: Death of a father | The Southern Reporter

Andrew Greig Prologue: The Doo-Cot We had become near-accustomed to the farting thud of small cannon, the prattle of musketry, the yelled orders and clashed steel, all swirling about our city’s tenements. Then followed the clatter as a sortie of Queen’s Men from the Castle swept through the barricades, down the High Street to confront the King’s Men. Rose Nicolson by Andrew Greig At the first explosions, my father would sigh, go down the winding stair to bar the entrance to our close, then latch-key our nail-studded door. He would return to our refuge, solemnly count our heads, place the key on his work table, then go back to writing inventories and bills of sale.

Rose Nicolson Part 1: Death of a father | Midlothian Advertiser

Andrew Greig Prologue: The Doo-Cot We had become near-accustomed to the farting thud of small cannon, the prattle of musketry, the yelled orders and clashed steel, all swirling about our city’s tenements. Then followed the clatter as a sortie of Queen’s Men from the Castle swept through the barricades, down the High Street to confront the King’s Men. Rose Nicolson by Andrew Greig At the first explosions, my father would sigh, go down the winding stair to bar the entrance to our close, then latch-key our nail-studded door. He would return to our refuge, solemnly count our heads, place the key on his work table, then go back to writing inventories and bills of sale.

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