Category: John Christopher

Poseidon’s herdsman

‘A great moment,’ Sweeney said. ‘The hunters home from the hill. Adrenalin pumping through the veins, and the sweet smell of burning flesh in the nostrils.’ Susan laughed. ‘I suppose you are going to say...

So does your husband

‘Well, you know. Propinquity makes strange bed-fellows.’ Toni stretched her arms back, a voluptuous movement. ‘And tropic islands make you sexy. At least, I find it so.’ Katey thought of saying: so does your husband,...

Her acts of independence

Watching the Diana sink had removed the last faint illusion that things would come right: the fire go out, the ship prove, miraculously, sound enough to navigate. Or the radio still workable, to bring a...

They’re too late

Sweeney remained silent, concentrated, and the silence spread to the others. They watched Yasha and the four Hawaiians running along the beach, and heard Yasha calling something out, presumably to Billy. He reached the spot...

A spot of flame

Susan said: ‘Oh, look. The sun’s rising.’ A spot of flame had sprung up between two leaning palms on the headland; it broadened as they watched and the palms stood black against the gold, which...