The next story in Last Stop Wellsbourne takes us into the arcane world of crown green bowling. What could be more commonplace, more typically English, more removed from the realms of horror? But of course, horror can lurk anywhere, and it is often in the blandest surroundings that it finds a secure home. Think Ray Bradbury's small town America. Or indeed Monty James' world of amiable scholars.
In this case the bowling club is a place with a hidden secret. The eponymous young woman is charged with (you guessed it) cutting the grass on the bowling green, and stumbled (or so it would seem) onto the mysterious entity that guarantees the team a steady supply of trophies. The tone is quite jaunty, as befits a narrator who determines the 'qualifications' of a young woman for a certain type of ritual.
This is quiet horror of a sort, as Tom Johnstone shows us nothing too visceral, preferring to suggest rather than describe. But that makes it all the more disturbing. What else might dwell beneath Wellsbourne? I suspect more strange beings will be revealed in the last few stories in this consistently good collection.
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