The Stories Behind The Hidden Magic Stories

 

 

Some stories begin with imagination.

These ones began with a place. A place of hidden magic and secret places.

 

A Childhood in the Countryside

I grew up in Cornwall, surrounded by countryside, animals, and space to roam. My mum had horses, and life felt close to nature in a way that stays with you.

When I was seven, we moved to France.

Not exactly for adventure, but to keep our way of life.

My parents found a derelict house with land, eleven hectares, a barn, and an old cow shed. It needed everything, so we started again.

At first, we lived in a horse box and a caravan while my dad began the work. The first space he made liveable was the old cow shed, which became our home for a while, with a small bedroom above it for my sister and me.

It wasn’t finished, or polished, but it was full of life.

 

A Different Kind of World

Life there felt slower, quieter, and full of small discoveries.

My school had only a handful of children, all ages together. We went to village fêtes and danced in circles, linking little fingers in Breton dances that felt both joyful and slightly ridiculous.

There was space to imagine.

Space to notice things.

And always that feeling that there might be something just out of sight.

 

Leaving, and Carrying It With Me

When we left France, I didn’t want to go.

We moved back to England, and everything felt bigger, louder, and busier. I missed the quiet, the countryside, and the sense of freedom.

But that feeling never really left me.

 

Finding Our Way Back

Years later, Tim and I came back to France on holiday, travelling through the country and eventually discovering a landscape that stayed with us, green, wide, full of rivers and lakes.

We fell in love with it then.

So when we later decided to move, that was where we came.

It wasn’t simple. We packed everything into two vans, travelled with three boys and a dog, and began again, staying in a gîte for several months while we searched for a home.

We found one tucked into the woods, with land, a river nearby, and, as we later discovered, a vast lake not far away.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was ours.

 

The Story Behind Henny

Around that time, someone unexpected appeared.

Henny.

She was my youngest son Ash’s friend.

At first, I thought she was a little girl from school. But there was no Henny at school. And yet, she was always there, at home, on walks, in the woods.

One day, he pointed to a younger photograph of my mum and said, “There’s Henny.” Mum died when I was 18.

And I’ve held onto the quiet thought that perhaps, in some way, she came to help him settle in a new place.

In the stories, Henny now lives in the woods.

 

Where the Stories Began

The stories didn’t start as books.

They began as drawings.

When we were living on a narrowboat, I was asked to create a fairy story on commission. In the end, the fairies weren’t used, but I loved how they turned out.

So I kept them.

And slowly, they became something of my own.

 

Shaping the First Story

Just before we moved to France, the idea for The Magic in the Garden came together.

I realised I could base it in France, drawing on my own childhood, and tell the story from a place that felt real to me.

I went back through old photographs, rediscovering moments I had almost forgotten, and used them to shape the story.

Then the move began.

Packing, travelling, arriving, everything was busy and full. But all the time, I found myself noticing things differently, almost collecting moments as I went, thinking quietly, this will go into the book.

 

 

Where the Stories Took Shape

Once we arrived, the boys filled the space immediately.

Running through empty rooms, in and out of open windows, across the garden and back again. Exploring the woods, making games, finding their own worlds.

That was where The Goblins in the Woods began.

Not as a plan, but as a feeling, watching them play, sensing how easily imagination slips into places like that.

 

 

The Pull of the Water

There were rivers and streams. And then there was the lake.

Wide, quiet, and almost unexpected. We followed the road one day and found it opening out in front of us, far bigger than we imagined.

There was something about it.

The stillness.
The movement.
The sense that it held something beneath the surface.

That was where The Secrets in the Water began.

 

Bringing the Stories to Life

As life settled, I finally had the space to bring everything together.

The drawings were already there. The stories had been forming quietly for a long time.

And with Ash at school, I found the time to finish them.

With the help of his teacher, Julie, who gently guided the translation, the stories became bilingual, something that felt like a natural bridge between the two parts of my life.

 

Sharing the Stories

Now, the books are beginning to find their way into the world.

And I’ve been able to share them in a small, meaningful way, reading with children at the school, talking about language, stories, and the little differences between England and France.

It feels like the stories have come full circle.

 

 

A Quiet Thread Through It All

The fairies, the goblins, the magic, they are all part of the storytelling.

But underneath them is something real.

A childhood close to nature.
A return to it later in life.
And the way children move through those spaces with openness, curiosity, and trust.

 

 

A Story That Found Its Shape

I didn’t set out to write a series.

But looking back, it feels like everything connects.

One story led to another.

And somewhere along the way, The Hidden Magic Stories found their shape.

 

 

These stories have grown from small moments, quietly gathered over time.

If you’d like to follow along, The Hidden Magic Stories are just beginning, and there is more still to come.