The Janus Man

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Carole Langley walked by herself along the lonely road elevated above the surrounding flatlands of the Wash. She was half a mile from the village of Plimpstead.

It was a warm night, a cloying warmth. The moon had come out from behind the cloud bank, illuminating the deserted fields on either side stretching to the dim horizon. Eighteen years old, an attractive blonde, Carole felt a little nervous. The stillness of the flatlands seemed to hold a hint of menace.

`All right,' she had told her boy friend, Rick, 'if that's what you want you'd better look elsewhere. And, no thanks, I'll get home by myself…'

`Please yourself,' Rick had told her, his voice slurred with a little too much liquor. 'Girls are like buses. There's always another one coming along. I might even find one inside…'

Saying which, he'd gone back into the old house where the party was still in full swing. When she'd accepted the invitation Carole hadn't known Peggy's parents were away, that the young crowd would have the house to themselves. The trek to the bedrooms had started early.

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