Brooks Stanwood - The Glow

[dem bones]

Somewhere in the park, they run. And as they run, they watch with hungry eyes the young, loving, healthy couples - like the Lawrence's - couples with The Glow.

Brooks Stanwood (Howard & Susan Kaminsky) - The Glow (Futura, 1980)

Blurb:
A shivery tale of horror. A story somewhere beyond reason. They were young, fit, healthy, on the move .... and in deadly danger.

"Two cops paused on the walk then circled close to the reservoir. This was their turf and they had seen it all. The fatties. The oldies. The crazies. The serious ones. And those out to score. Jogging sure beat dog-walking for pickups."

Affluent young New Yorkers, Peter and Jackie Lawrence, fall prey to a diabolical New York cult - middle aged joggers in powder-blue tracksuits. Jackie, 29, is something in boutiques and Pete, same age, is big shot editor at some publishing house or other, and sometimes wonders how Londoners can live on such meagre salaries. Not yet thirty, the Lawrence's have everything they desire - except a to-die-for apartment on the fashionable East Side. They've been flat-hunting for months, no joy, and Jackie has given up before Pete has a stroke of huge good fortune - a black guy in a red fright-wig runs off with his jacket in Central Park. Four super-fit silver joggers give chase, retrieve Pete's jacket - minus wallet and keys. Damn. Have to cancel the credit cards! Come back to our place - you can phone from there. No, we insist. it's the least we can do. All smiles, kind-hearted Ben Goodman, Arnold and Phoebe Jensen and Victor Macrae duly escort an abashed Pete back to said "our place." Talk about Good Samaritans! "The next time anyone from out of town gave him any crap about the callousness of New Yorkers, he'd tell them about these people."

The quartet reside at number 12 East 83rd Street, a gorgeous luxury apartment block whose residents are one big happy, healthy family. They employ a doorman/ general factotum named 'Buddy' to keep out riff raff (and, when required, mug prospective tenants). Did we hear you say you were looking for a place, Mr. Lawrence? Why not move in here at an absurdly low rent? It's very rare we have a vacancy, but the young professionals upstairs had to “move to Tacoma” at short notice. Consider yourself and Mrs Lawrence invited to our organic garden party this evening, and we'll show you around.

Jackie loves the place and her lovely soon-to-be dream neighbours on sight - which of us wouldn't? Everyone is so friendly and keen to give you health foods. "Don't worry, Jackie. We're all liberal Democrats. And we even laugh at off-colour jokes," assures chirpy Ben "we only use first names here!" Goodman. Your token rent - utilities included - grants 24 hour access to the all mod cons private gymnasium, luxury indoor swimming pool, and consultations with Phoebe, in-house nutritionist. No wonder they such splendid physical specimens for their ages. Not that Martini-swilling, heavy smoking Jackie will be making use of these facilities. Or that's what she thinks!

Another for the sport is horror file? Top stuff so far - not one even vaguely sympathetic character to root for!

To be continued ...

[dem bones]

"The Barnett's both looked like Central Castings idea of late-twenties-to-early-thirties Olympic material. The Barnett's simply glowed with good health. They almost looked too healthy."

No sooner have the happy couple moved in than Peter enlists with 'the Twelvers,' becomes overnight veteran running bore. Jackie, full of good intentions, initially follows his lead but fast falls back into slovenly, dope-smoking & munchies ways. Jovial silver fox Arnold Jensen has prepared for such an eventuality; he simply volunteers Allison, his gorgeous, super-trim yet bouncy in all the right places niece, as Pete's early morning jogging partner. Fearful of losing her man, Jackie effects slouched hat and trench-coat disguise to spy on them. Pete's ogling of this fancy bit reduces Jackie to tears. Nothing for it but to invest in the most expensive designer running gear money can buy, adopts gruelling fitness regime, diet, lay off the booze, cut down on fags, get healthy, feel the benefit. Ben phones Allison to inform her their plan worked, and everything in the garden is rosy ....

... until Jackie's best pal, Trish Anderson, falls pregnant. Trish is married to Allen, a City-Bank foreign exchange officer whose work often takes them to Europe, aka The Third World ("As they passed the living room, Pete was speculating on how the English managed to live on the paltry salaries they made. Jackie interrupted to ask Pete which wine he'd chosen for the evening.") Both couples have long promised they'd one day treat themselves to a gourmet tour of Burgundy. What better excuse do they need? It's now or never - poxy fitness fad be blowed!

Ben Goodman is not best pleased. How dare these dreadful meddlers tempt the Lawrence's from the righteous path with their filthy foreign food and drink, their selfish having potentially unhealthy babies and what have you? Something will have to be done!

One day while walking home, Allen is beaten senseless with a metal bar by a mugger in a wild red Afro fright wig. The Trip is off.

Jackie's turn to try for a child. She loses it when person or persons unknown run a fishing wire across a cycle path in Central Park, just as she's approaching the tunnel. Bloody young vandals up to no good as usual, we expect!

Dave and Kim Barnett, the only other under thirties Twelvers, inexplicably move out on the quiet. Their departure coincides with the return to robust health of the elder residents who, truth to tell, had lost their glow in recent weeks. David's sister comes looking for him. Police find her body beneath a Brooklyn Bridge. A dubious suicide note explains that she is too upset about her missing brother to carry on.

Jackie, increasingly suspicious that the shiny old timers are conspiring against them, persuades Pete it's time to move on. But, having invested so much time and effort nurturing them to physical perfection, will the Goodman-Macrae-Jensen axis allow them to leave the house on East 83rd alive?

Wouldn't be fair of me to give the game away, but those familiar with a certain Charles Birkin story will have a shrewd idea of what the Twelvers are up to. Novels also recalls Rosemary's Baby (a lot), maybe even Bernard Taylor's The Moorstone Sickness (been too long since I read it to be sure). As mentioned, the lack of anyone remotely pleasant to care about is a bonus.

Pop culture references include ELO, Dolly Parton, Leon Sphinx, Ira Levin, Edith Wharton ("The House of Mirth"), Alex Haley, Roots, Kunta Kinte, I Love Lucy, Farah Fawcett Majors, etc.

[bluetomb]

Interesting that Helen van Slyke seems to have been a bestselling romance novelist rather than the usual sort of cover quotee, perhaps Fontana were aiming to expand their audience? This one sounds pretty spiffy  anyhow, I could well believe in a cult of diabolical joggers.