The Lost and Found Club
For the past two decades the Daily Mail’s weekly Missing and Found column has been reuniting long lost friends, colleagues and family members. Unique in the world of print media, it has often succeeded where the internet giants have failed.
Book Club
Daily Mail, 8 May 2003 Reading groups are enjoying unprecedented popularity nowadays. But not everyone is a fan of these impromptu little clubs of book-lovers. Here MONICA PORTER tells why she became a reading group drop-out. Last spring my old and trusted
Unromantic Weekend
Evening Standard, 8 February 1999 A scream of a weekend Monica Porter was expecting a romantic break in Vienna with a smooth and seductive Hungarian businessman
Refugees!
Daily Mail, 24 November 1998 Why I, whose family fled death and terror, resent the use of this word to describe the illegal immigrants flocking into Britain today. LIKE any hardworking taxpayer in this country, I am angered and appalled by the
Masterspy
Daily Mail, 3 January 1998 Betrayal and a masterspy's son Kim Philby's son talks for the first time about life in the shadow of his traitor father's defection to Moscow JOHN PHILBY was an art student in the spring of 1963, taking the
Hollywood Childhood
Daily Mail, 24 October 1997 I smoked at four, drank beer at five and Martinis at six. We had no taboos THE BIZARRE HOLLYWOOD CHILDHOOD OF JAMES MASON'S SON EVEN by the outlandish standards of Hollywood, the short item which appeared in
Revolution
Daily Mail, 19 October 1996 For the first time TV brought revolution straight into British living rooms. But my father watched the slaughter with his own eyes. We had to escape FORTY years ago next week, in a brave but tragically doomed
Britishness
Daily Mail, 22 July 1995 Don't ever lose your Britishness After the row over teaching British culture in schools, a Hungarian-born writer argues that our children must never be allowed to forget the values that still make us great TWENTY-FIVE years ago
First Love
Daily Mail, 1 July 1995 My friend went off to bed. I headed for Georges's flat TO SOMEONE who'd just spent six years in the bland, boring suburbs of New York, there was no word more enticing than `Paris'. So the thought