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him.

    Railway platforms were good if he could find a solitary woman on a lonely bench. To stand in front of them and watch their bodies freeze with fear was extremely pleasant, then, to slowly un flap his raincoat was a joy beyond compare. Of course, he had to make a quick getaway, but that was half the fun. That really set the heart pounding.

    He would never try it in a railway carriage again, though. It had been quite a successful pastime for a while, changing carriages at each stop until he found one occupied by a lone female. They were usually shocked rigid and he always jumped off at the next stop before they had a chance to raise the alarm. But one night, the startled passenger had had bloody hysterics! He'd nearly jumped out the window in fright!
    Pleading hadn't prevented her from tugging at the communication cord, and falling on top of her when the train had lurched to a grinding halt hadn't soothed the situation. She'd really panicked then. He could still hear those shrill screams ringing in his ears to this day!
    Christ, it was no wonder some of them got bloody murdered.

    He'd had to jump from the compartment there and then, hurting his knee as he'd stumbled in the dark. He was lucky he hadn't been knocked down by a passing train! He'd managed to escape, but it had been a long walk home because he hadn't dared use British Rail again that night. He hadn't gone out for a fortnight after that. He'd been too shaken.
    Mother sodding bag had fussed and fretted and wanted to get the doctor in, thinking he was really ill, but he'd told her he was only run down, and that a few days in bed would soon put him right again. When the recuperation period stretched into the second week she'd reverted to her usual quavery voiced nagging, and in the end he had been relieved to go back to school. Sometimes he wondered where such a frail little woman found the energy for such unceasing ranting. And sometimes he wondered if she suspected something. He'd caught her giving him strange looks lately. No, she couldn't know. He'd always been careful, always scrubbed the inside of his raincoat after each trip.
    She was just getting older and more senile, that was all. Afraid he might leave her.

    The incident had made him more cautious than ever and after that he avoided enclosed places where he might possibly be trapped. Epping Forest became his most invigorating haunt.

    He was surprised he hadn't used it as a location in his earlier years; it was such a natural. There were so many lonely spots where foolish women strolled with their dogs, or young girls rode on horseback, or children played football; and there was so much undergrowth to hide in, so many trees to skulk behind. You had to keep a wary eye out for the forest keepers of course some of them didn't even wear uniforms and police cars often patrolled the quiet lanes. But a man in a tracksuit was hardly a suspicious character in such an open environment. It was a perfect place for his particular activity, a paradise for flashers.
    And it was healthy, too.

    He had left his car, a battered Morris 1100, in an area just off the main road, the drive from their small, terraced house in Leytonstone not taking much more than ten minutes or so. It was his afternoon off from school and he had decided to take advantage of the clement weather: standing around in the pouring rain and exposing your organs to the cold wasn't much fun. Bad weather also made it more difficult to find a viewer and just doing it on your own took away much of the joy. He had caught a bad chill last winter.

    Today was a good day for picnickers and strollers because it was a weekday. There wouldn't be many sightseers around, but there was always the bored housewife with her non-school able offspring to be found. It just required a little patience.

    He drew in a sharp breath as he realized that his patience was about to be rewarded. In the distance, strolling casually and quite alone, was the figure of a woman. The