Past form dictates that anything Jennifer Chapman writes should be taken seriously – The Times

The rain was making a racket on the boats, too much to hear if there were any sounds coming from inside them. I started to slow up a bit as I got nearer to Baz's, and realised I felt something like disappointment when I saw that it was in darkness. I must have paused for a moment, perhaps to make sure, I don't know what I was thinking. Then I realised that I was now horribly wet and that the rain was getting heavier and faster. I climbed onto Baz's boat and tried the door handle. It wasn't locked. Inside it was pitch black, but I wasn't going to switch on a light even if I could find where it was.

I pulled the door shut as quietly as I could because I knew I should not be here. I went down the steps and felt for somewhere to sit down until I got used to the darkness. The rain on the roof had a different sound from the one it had made outside, as if it desperately wanted to come in and was angry about being shut out. I started to shiver. Then I closed my eyes and tried to see in my mind's eye how it had been when the men were there. The pitter-patter came again. And then I froze as I heard another sound and the boat rocked.

Verve, wit and no little poignancy. Not the least of Jennifer Chapman's strengths is in deploying the cameo role to perfection – Daily Telegraph