We shortly embarked on our annual pilgrimage through the neighbourhood, and our garrulous, excited group navigated the suburban wilderness. The sneering faces adorned by pumpkins always failed to instil the fear they intended. If anything they buoyed us as we approached the lit houses with our usual proposal of “trick or treat”.We were greeted with mixed receptions. Some were happy to comply with our demands, particularly the sad parents who would dress up themselves with disconcerting enthusiasm, remarking on our costumes in the most patronising fashion whilst feigning curiosity. The majority were more resentful; they tended to be older, more cynical about the occasion. Of course, the quality of offerings varied greatly: whilst some presented a bowl from which we would snatch handfuls of sweets, others would be less generous. We gorged ourselves on the spoils, tearing off wrappers before sinking our teeth into the decadent delights. Jawbreakers were devoured and toffee apples tossed into gutters, bushes and flowerbeds. We were content at that point, but we soon met the senior boys on the edge of the green.They wore their sparse facial hair with pride: it served to help them get the cigarettes they coughed and choked over. Their clouds of smoke spiralled into the night sky before fading into the dark nothingness. They joined us, but, as the night descended, so did our intentions. We followed the tunnel of light provided by the street lamps, past the garage - which carried its usual scent of oil - and the chippy, where rats dispersed from their feast of chicken bones. No longer content with the sweets that had already sated our hunger, we yearned for the unanswered door. We took turns inflicting escalating crimes upon properties, emptying bins and racing away from resonating doorbells - until my turn finally came. We approached number 17 Caerwent Road with caution; I was reluctant from the outset. The others ignored my plea and cajoled me relentlessly. Dracula handed me a pair of eggs, indicating towards the black saloon that sat behind the gate. His makeup was starting to wear thin
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