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| Cover by Paul Lowe illustrating 'Screen Burn' |
Steve Duffy's latest collection offers the discerning reader eight stories, five brand new and three previously published (two of which appeared in ST). As always, these are well-wrought tales in the great tradition of British supernatural fiction. But they are also modern in the best sense - offering characters and settings instantly recognisable to anyone who inhabits the UK. Drizzle, darkness, and decay are seldom absent.
'Dead Centre of Manchester', the first story, is a prime example. Steve takes a fragment from a notorious true crime case and runs with it in a strange and gruesome direction. The overall feel might be described as Alan Bennett meets Joel Lane. In a good way, of course. There's a whiff of Vick and a taste of blood. Believable characters reacting to extraordinary circumstances are one of the author's specialities and he does a splendid job here.
Cath, newly retired, joins Facebook groups and does some litter picking to keep busy. She also joins a group that attends what used to be called paupers' funerals - send-offs for those who have no friends or family to mourn them. After one funeral a mysterious figure - somewhat Gothy in appearance - is often glimpsed by Cath but seems to elude the gaze of others. As autumn draws in, a series of deaths linked to the dead man suggest an unholy covenant of some kind is being fulfilled. A first-rate story that has the authentic M.R. Jamesian touch.
'The Harvester of Ladslove' might not have won the approval of Dr. James, though, as the key event takes place during the Great War. Wartime settings are problematic for supernatural fiction, given the horror that's already there. But when I accepted the story for the fiftieth issue of ST I was more than satisfied by the raw power of the narrative. It's bold to suggest that there might be something even worse than the carnage of the Western Front. As we should know by now, things can always get worse.
