FROST hung in the trees at Eastcliff meadows as the sun burst through a great grey bank of clouds on the horizon, writes Viv Wilson.

In the stable, the grey mare stirred and stretched her long but tired old legs and kicked with impatience at the rotting wood panel at the foot of the door.

She wanted her breakfast and so did two little brothers, Samuel and James, as they woke in their makeshift bed on the floor. Rubbing the sleep from their eyes, they kept clear of Dora, their mum who had just returned from cleaning the Police HQ in Station Road. No time for a cuppa when a mountain of household chores needed doing and countless holed grey socks awaited her darning skills.

FOR THE FULL STORY SEE FRIDAY’S TEIGNMOUTH POST