It’s a classic Gothic image-a castle by the side of a mountain lake. Its turrets twist into a dark sky. Bats circle the battlements and as the moon comes out from behind the clouds a pale figure appears at a window.
Move that sense of threat and danger to the twenty-first century and a writer might choose a multi-storey car-park. It is night and most of the bays are empty. A single car remains parked by the exit. Or perhaps the scene is set in an underpass, tiled walls scribbled with obscenities, gleaming puddles and litter heaped into corners. Footsteps echoing, coming closer-the moment the main character enters we are on edge, knowing that something dramatic and most certainly unpleasant is going to happen.
In reality not many of us are going find ourselves driving up to the doors of an ancient castle in the middle of the night. We…
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Jan Edwards 