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Normally the old folk of Portlecombe love to spin a yarn. But mention 1936, and everyone clams up. Something bad happened back then. Something connected to the weird events of the last few days... Killer sharks in the bay. Dogs turned savage. Strange laughter in the hills... And Eve. Quiet, smiling, red-headed Eve. She's having a party. It's kind of a reunion. For anyone who survived her last one... Some stories are best left... buried.