It's Hallowe'en and the residents of Sexton Way gather for a street party. Both the living and the dead.
The food was laid out half way down the street, on tables that had appeared from various gardens the minute the road was closed. Another neighbour who helped run the local playgroup introduced Melissa to the young mums in the street. They had organised a rota to keep a watchful eye on the bouncy castle and marshal the queue for the apple dooking. The guy from across the road was a DJ, which explained a lot, and he had set up his sound system for the dancing.
Adam charged himself with being chief barman and bouncer. He placed the booze table near the coned ‘Private Party’ barrier, with the logic that if all the men were hanging about there, opportunist gate-crashers were less likely to try their luck.
At the other end of the street the rusty gate to the graveyard remained padlocked, but failed to keep out the ghost hunters who, despite video cameras with night vision, caught nothing of the inhabitants as their spirits rose to join the party. Drunken teenagers though, looking for a smooth tomb on which to set up camp, were not too far removed from their spiritual life to be unaffected by the movement, and one stopped, shivered and said:
'Cos' it felt like my granny was watching me, that’s why. Now, come on, let’s go somewhere else'...
The food was laid out half way down the street, on tables that had appeared from various gardens the minute the road was closed. Another neighbour who helped run the local playgroup introduced Melissa to the young mums in the street. They had organised a rota to keep a watchful eye on the bouncy castle and marshal the queue for the apple dooking. The guy from across the road was a DJ, which explained a lot, and he had set up his sound system for the dancing.
Adam charged himself with being chief barman and bouncer. He placed the booze table near the coned ‘Private Party’ barrier, with the logic that if all the men were hanging about there, opportunist gate-crashers were less likely to try their luck.
At the other end of the street the rusty gate to the graveyard remained padlocked, but failed to keep out the ghost hunters who, despite video cameras with night vision, caught nothing of the inhabitants as their spirits rose to join the party. Drunken teenagers though, looking for a smooth tomb on which to set up camp, were not too far removed from their spiritual life to be unaffected by the movement, and one stopped, shivered and said:
'Cos' it felt like my granny was watching me, that’s why. Now, come on, let’s go somewhere else'...