{Drawing room.}

Dr. Hinge: Did mother tell you she was going out this morning, Hilda?

Dame Hilda: No, she didn't, dear.

Dr. Hinge: She didn't tell me either. She didn't tell Maud, I’ve just asked her.

Dame Hilda: Well, there's only one thing she ever tells Maud, and that's quite unrepeatable.

Dr. Hinge: You'd think she would have told somebody she was going out, wouldn't you? I just hope she's not going to be late back for lunch, that's all.

Dame Hilda: Oh, Evadne, I do wish you'd be consistent. Yesterday you were complaining that she was hanging about the house waiting for it. That poor woman can't do a thing right.

Dr. Hinge: You don't have to tell me that.

Dame Hilda: If she wants to go to bed at 10, you say she's being stuffy. If she wants to stay up till 11, you call her a dirty stop out.

Dr. Hinge:  Stop up.

Dame Hilda: What?

Dr. Hinge: Well, she can't be a stop out if she's in, can she? She's a dirty stop up.

Dame Hilda: You see, you're just the same with me. That's what they call nitpicking.

Dr. Hinge: Well, it becomes second nature when you live with a nit.

Dame Hilda: No wonder your mother chooses to live in Mexico. I suppose this is the furthest she could get away from you.

Dr. Hinge: Then why does she come to see me so often?

Dame Hilda: There are two of us here, dear. I suppose it would never occur to you that she might come to see me.

Dr. Hinge: Why should my mother come to see you?

Dame Hilda: Because she probably feels guilty about having dumped you on me, that’s why.  You know, Evadne, I sometimes wonder how a nice woman like her ever managed to have a daughter like you. Do you think you might have been a changeling?

Dr. Hinge: You always take mother's side.

Dame Hilda: I don't take anybody's side. I just endeavour to make Maureen's visits as comfortable and pleasant for her as I can.

Dr. Hinge: And that's your mistake, that's why she always stays so long.

Dame Hilda: Now, Evadne, I do wish you would try to be just a little more sympathetic towards your mother dear. I know she can be irritating and I know that she has a domineering personality. But she is a guest in our house and you know what they say about guests, don't you?

Dr. Hinge: Yes. They always outstay their welcome.

Dame Hilda: Now, Evadne, I insist that you stop this silly nonsense. It's so childish. Maureen's only here for a few more days. So let's try to make them pleasant, shall we? For all of us, let's do whatever she wants to do, for my sake, Evadne.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, very well.

Dame Hilda: You promise?

Dr. Hinge: I promise.

Dame Hilda: I'll take your word for it. Though something tells me that if I had any sense, I'd go and fetch the Bible.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, that must be mother. Mother, is that you?

Maureen: Aye, dear, been missing me, have you?

Dame Hilda: Bite your tongue, Evadne.

Maureen: I'm sorry I've been so long, my dears, but it's harder to get hold of a taxi in this place than it is to get hold of a trouser press in a nudist colony.

Dr. Hinge: Where on earth have you been mother?

Maureen: Why, only down to the village, dear?

Dr. Hinge: Well, surely you could have walked to the village and back.

Maureen: Aye, but I’d this bag to carry.

Dame Hilda: I must say, Maureen, that bag does look very heavy, dear. What on earth have you got in it?

Maureen: Neeps!

Dr. Hinge: Neeps?

Maureen: Aye. Neeps!

Dr. Hinge: Turnips, Hilda.

Maureen: Aye, and they’re beauties, just look at the size of that one.

Dame Hilda: That's not a turnip. That's a swede.

Dr. Hinge: Well, In Scotland, we call those turnips.

Dame Hilda: Well, whatever you may call them in Scotland, they're swedes, aren't they? Turnips are the small white ones.

Maureen: Those are white turnips, Hilda. English turnips. These are Scottish turnips.

Dr. Hinge: To be, to be absolutely correct, mother, they are in fact Swedish turnips.

Dame Hilda: There you are, then, they’re swedes.

Dr. Hinge: Not to us, Hilda. You see, ever since they were introduced into Scotland from Sweden in the late 18th century, we Scot’s have known them simply as turnips.

Maureen: As neeps!

Dr. Hinge: Oh, shut up, mother! Anyway, the point is we never had the small white ones.

Dame Hilda: Trust you to miss out.

Maureen: Well, whatever you choose to call them, girls, be it neeps, turnips or swedes, I've got six beauties for tonight.

Dame Hilda: Oh, but Maureen, I've already got Fenland asparagus tips for tonight, dear. We’re having lemon sole.

Maureen: Oh, no, no, these are not for our dinner, Hilda. They're for our lanterns.

Dame Hilda: Our what?

Maureen: Why, do you not know what day this is?

Dame Hilda: I do, I know very well, dear. It's Wednesday.

Maureen: It's the 31st of October, Hilda. It's Halloween. Tonight's the night, the witches ride abroad.

Dame Hilda: So that's why Evadne was instructing Maud to put a new head on the broomstick.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, mother, it's years, since I celebrated Halloween.

Maureen: The trouble with you, my girl, is that you've forgotten your Celtic origins.

Dr. Hinge: You know, I used to love Halloween when I was a girl.

Dame Hilda: Did they have Halloween when you were a girl?

Dr. Hinge: You know, I can remember sitting in the candlelight in front of the mirror in my bedroom, eating apples and combing my hair for hours on end.

Dame Hilda: Oh, so that's why so much of it fell out.

Maureen: Eating apples and combing ones hair is a very ancient custom Hilda. They say that the young girl who does so will eventually get a glimpse of the face of her husband to be reflected in the glass, as if he were peeping over her shoulder.

Dame Hilda: I bet all Evadne got was a stomach ache from eating too many apples.

Maureen: Anyhow, I thought that tonight we might celebrate in the old way, and all go tricking and treating.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, mother, that's a lovely idea.

Dame Hilda: Not so fast, Evadne, Now, what exactly is tricking and treating Maureen?

Maureen: Why, have you never gone tricking and treating, then, Hilda?

Dame Hilda: Not knowingly, no.

Maureen: You poor, benighted Sassenach. We’d do it every year when I was younger. We’d just wander around the village, a whole gang of us, knocking on people's front doors. And when they opened them, we'd shout, trick or treat, and if they didn't give us a little treat of some sort, we'd play a trick on them.

Dame Hilda: What sort of trick?

Maureen: Oh, just little things. We might set fire to a cabbage stalk and blow the smoke through their letter box, or climb onto the roof and block their chimney up with turf, or maybe we'd just nail the garden gate up.

Dame Hilda: And what do you suppose, Lorna Dyrenforth, would think if she caught me nailing up her garden gate? Or sitting on her roof stuffing turf down her chimney? Why, I’d probably be drummed off the committee of the ladies' gas federation and booted clean out of the co-optimists?

Dr. Hinge: They’re are certain people around here whose gates I would love to nail up.

Dame Hilda: Yes, and there's the trouble, you see. We haven't even got out yet, and Evadne’s turning nasty already, it's just not on Maureen, sorry. Besides, we're so well known in this village, we'd be recognised.

Maureen: Well, you’ve nothing to worry about on that score, we'd all be disguised.

Dame Hilda: As what?

Maureen: As witches, maybe, or ghosties, or tinkeys.

Dame Hilda: And what's a tinkey when it's at home? Or shouldn't one ask?

Dr. Hinge: Oh, do use your head, Hilda? Now, what does a tinkey sound like?

Dame Hilda: Well, to be quite honest, Evadne? It sounds like something I used to do when I was very, very small, but I was brought up not to talk about it in company.

Dr. Hinge: A tinkey is a tinker, Hilda.

Dame Hilda: Then why couldn't you say so in the first place?

Maureen: I'm sorry, Hilda, that was my fault. Mind, one doesn't have to dress up as anything in particular. Back home when I was a girl, we'd just rummage any old clothes we could find in the old clothes box. And we'd blacken our faces with soot always soot, great handfuls of it, the blacker the face, the better.

Dame Hilda: Blackened faces, witches, tinkeys, upsetting people. Oh, no, Maureen, you can count me out.

Maureen: Well, old clothes and sooty faces are not obligatory, Hilda. One just needs to look fantastic, outrageous.

Dame Hilda: Oh, now that sounds more like me.

Maureen: One might, for example, wear ones clothing inside out or back to front.

Dame Hilda: Oh, that sounds more like Evadne.

Maureen: You can wear whatever you like, Hilda, and as for upsetting people, I think you'll find that you'll not have to resort to tricks. People are usually only too pleased to see you. They join in the fun. They invariably invite you in and give you a treat, usually an alcoholic one, I might add.

Dr. Hinge:  Personally I think it spoils it if they're too friendly.

Dame Hilda: You would.

Dr. Hinge:  Oh, where's the fun? I always used to like nailing the gates up.

Dame Hilda: I tell you what, Evadne, each to her own, dear. Maureen and I will go into the houses and have the drinkies. You can stay out in the gardens and nail their gates up.

Maureen: Does that mean that you'll come then, Hilda?

Dame Hilda: Why, of course, Maureen, no one's ever been able to accuse me of not being a good sport. Though some have tried.

Dr. Hinge: You will have no objection to carrying a turnip lantern I trust, Hilda. I mean, of course we'll give you the first pick of the turnips, of course, naturally. And you can make yourself a nice genteel one.

Dame Hilda: Evadne, I do not have the slightest notion of how to make a turnip lantern, dear, especially from a swede.

Maureen: Oh! There's really nothing to it, Hilda. You merely slice the top off and hollow out the inside with a sharp knife, we'll get Maud to do that bit, And then you carve eyes, nose and mouth to make a face in the skin, add a string handle, stick a lighted candle in it, replace the top, and in the misty darkness of an autumn evening, with the candle guttering and the face glowing from within, the effect can be most eerie and grotesque.

Dame Hilda: Grotesque?

Maureen: Oh, aye, the face needs to be grotesque.

Dame Hilda: In that case, may I carve all the lanterns, Maureen?

Maureen: Of course, Hilda, if you've a mind, too.

Dame Hilda: It won’t matter if they're all vaguely similar, will it?

Maureen: No, not a bit. Have you some special design in mind, then?

Dame Hilda: Yes. I was thinking of using Evadne as a model.

{Later.}

Dame Hilda: Well, I must say those lanterns turned out quite beautifully. They looked just like Evadne, frightening. In fact, Maureen lit one and stuck it on the gate post to scare the evil spirits away, and we didn't even get an evening paper that day. As to our disguises, Maureen decided to dress as a kelpie, which is some sort of a Scottish sprite that usually appears in the shape of a horse. I dressed as a sort of glammed up sorcerer’s apprentice, rather eye catching, with all the signs of the zodiac picked out in sequins. And Evadne, blacked her face, wore old clothes and looked... well, just like Evadne. Well, we were all ready and about to set out when we hit a snag, Maud.

Maud: I'm awfully sorry, Dame’ilda, but I can't leave ‘ere till my Arthur gets ‘ere.

Dame Hilda: Oh, that's all right, Maud. Just make sure everything's properly locked up when you go.

Maud: Ooh, I'd not want to be left ‘ere on me own, Dame ‘ilda, not on ‘alloween!

Dr. Hinge: Oh, well, in that case get your hat and coat, Maud, we'll walk you home.

Maud: There ain't nobody in at ‘ome, Doctor, so I'd not want to be left there neither.

Dame Hilda: What time exactly did your Arthur say he was going to get here?

Maud:  Round about six ‘e said, Dame ‘ilda.

Maureen: Six, but dammit, woman it’s half past seven now.

Maud: Well, ‘e did say round about. Once ‘e gets that rod of ‘is in ‘is ‘and, ‘e loses all sense o’ time.

Dame Hilda: Rod? Oh, he's been out fishing then?

Maud: Yes, ‘e ‘as, Dame ‘ilda, ‘e's getting fresh trout for our supper.

Maureen: I do hope not, Maud, the trout season closed a month ago.

Maud: And why do you think ‘e's doing it in the dark?

Dr. Hinge: Hilda, are we going or not?

Maureen: It's no good, Evadne, we're obviously going to have to take the wretched woman with us.

Dame Hilda: There you are, Maud. Did you hear that? You'd be very welcome to come with us. We've got plenty of lanterns and we could leave a note on the front door telling your Arthur where you are, dear.

Maud: Oh, no, Dame ‘ilda, no, not for love nor money. Funny things can ‘appen on ‘alloween. My old gran always reckoned as if you watched the church porch on ‘alloween, you'd see all them from the village as be going to die in the coming year come trooping out into the churchyard. I’d not want to look up and suddenly see meself.

Dr. Hinge: Well, that's perfectly understandable.

Maud: Anyhow, I think the wind's coming up, ‘tis supposed to be the witches as brings the wind.

Dame Hilda: The witches, dear?

Maud: The last time as ‘alloween were properly marked in Stackton were the night the old mill were blown down.

Maureen: And why do you think we go round with our turnip lanterns, you silly woman? It's to frighten the witches away.

Maud: Ah, well, it were the people as ‘ad the turnip lanterns as the old mill fell on, madam. Stackton witches ain't easily scared and they wreaks their revenge on any as tries to scare ‘em.

Dame Hilda: Oh, I wouldn't want to scare them, Maud, I wouldn't want them to scare me, either.

Dr. Hinge: Then stop listening to her.

Maud: If I were you, Dame ‘ilda, I'd think twice afore going out tonight. I mean, who’s to look after your fire while you're out.

Dame Hilda: My fire, dear?

Maud: Should your fire go out on ‘alloween? You'll ‘ave bad luck for a year. So my gran always said,

Dame Hilda: Your gran was a cheery soul. You've made me come over all goosey.

Maud: Ah! that sounds like my Arthur. I'll be running along then. Enjoy yourselves. And don't blame me if this ‘ouse is nothing but ashes be the morning. Tempting fate, that's what. Good night.

Dame Hilda: Good night, Maud.

Maureen: That woman is as cunning as a wagonload of monkeys, keeping us all hanging about here till her wretched husband arrives.

Dr. Hinge: At least she's gone. I thought for one dreadful moment she was going to come with us. Right, Hilda, let's light our turnips and go.

Dame Hilda: Does that fire look all right to you, Evadne?

Dr. Hinge: It looks fine, Hilda, yes.

Dame Hilda: I wonder if it'll last till we get back. Maureen, how long do you think we'll be gone, dear?

Maureen: Oh, two or three hours, I shouldn't wonder.

Dame Hilda: Oh, well, I think I'd better bank it up.

Dr. Hinge: Now, just a minute, Hilda, we don't want to go out and leave a great fire blazing and unattended.

Dame Hilda: No, no, you're quite right, Evadne, perhaps I'd better stay behind and keep an eye on it.

Maureen: Why, Hilda, I'm surprised at you. I do believe you've let that stupid woman rattle you.

Dame Hilda: I'm not rattled, Maureen. But, Ooh, haa! What was that?

Dr. Hinge: It's just the rose bush knocking against the window. The wind has come up actually.

{Spooky noise.}

Dame Hilda: Listen! Is that the wind, Evadne? It does sound a bit witchy.

Dr. Hinge: That's not the wind, Hilda, no.

Maureen: Why, no! There's someone playing about out there and open the curtains Evadne and have a look.

Dr. Hinge: Very well, and if it’s those kids from up the road, I’ll wring their silly necks.

Mandy: Hello! It's us!

Peter: Just at the murk and the midnight hour, the fairy folk do ride!

Dame Hilda: Oh, Heavens, I might have known. It's the Moore’s.

Maureen: What are they dressed in?

Dr. Hinge: By the looks of it, she's dressed in his things and he's dressed in hers.

Dame Hilda: Is that normal?

Maureen: Well, it's not…. It's not normal, in the normal sense of the word, but it's normal at Halloween.

Dame Hilda: Well, open the window, Evadne, and let them in this way, dear.

Dr. Hinge: All right. If we must.

P&D:

It's pumpkin night tonight

It's pumpkin night tonight

Give us a candle

Give us a light
It's pumpkin night tonight

Ha, ha, ha!

Dr. Hinge:  Do come in.

Peter: Why I say, thanks awfully, Doctor. Come on D, over you go.

Mandy: Any apples or nuts.

Peter: Trick or treat!

Maureen: You've left it a bit late for that, haven't you? You've already played your trick. You are supposed to give people a choice, you know.

Dame Hilda: Nevertheless, Maureen, they shall have a treat anyway. Pass the sherry round, Evadne, we'll all have one. Now do sit yourself down, my dears. Make yourselves comfortable. Now, let me see which of you is which, I really can't tell in those clever disguises.

Mandy: I'm him.

Peter: I'm her.

Dr. Hinge: And I'm the Wizard of Oz.

Mandy: And doesn't Dame Hilda look absolutely splendid?

Dame Hilda: Oh, how sweet of you, my dear.

Peter:  We knew you were celebrating Halloween as soon as we saw your punkie on the gate post.

Dame Hilda: My what, dear?

Mandy: Oh, P, will call them punkie lanterns, I keep telling him they're Jack-o-lanterns.

Dr. Hinge:  It probably depends upon what part of the country you're from, Hilda.

Maureen: It's always the same when you English poke your noses in. Everything ends up in a muddle and mess, just look what you do with your porridge.

Dame Hilda: Oh, the sherry, thank you, Evadne. I say, put a little more coal on the fire, would you, dear?

Dr. Hinge: There's no point, Hilda, as soon had our sherry, we'll be off.

Mandy: Oh, we're not detaining you, are we Dame Hilda?

Dame Hilda: No, not a bit. We couldn't be happier to see you both, could we, dear?

Maureen: As a matter of fact, we were going out, tricking and treating ourselves. So I suggest that we all join forces and make it a night to remember.

P&D: Ooooh!

Dame Hilda: What's the matter?

Mandy: Well, quite frankly, Dame Hilda.

Dame Hilda: Yes?

Mandy: People aren't awfully friendly. Are they, P?

Peter: No, I wouldn't say that, dear. They weren't that bad.

Mandy: What do you mean? The very first house we went to in Magpie row, the man threatened to set his dog on us.

Peter: Oh, but he didn't, did he?

Mandy: Only because we ran.

Dame Hilda: I don't think I like the sound of that and I won't be able to run far in these heels.

Dr. Hinge: Don’t worry, Hilda, we'll avoid Magpie row.

Maureen: One always comes across the occasional misery guts, Hilda, why I've known them even in Scotland.

Mandy: Yes, well, the next house we went to, the man actually called the police, didn't he, P?

Peter: Well, yes, he did, D, but that was probably a genuine misunderstanding. You see, I knocked at the front door. When he opened it, I said, trick or treat and he said, well, I won't repeat what he said. But then he slammed the door in my face, so I set about nailing his gate up. I suppose he just didn't know that that was traditional.

Dame Hilda: Evadne, perhaps you'd put a little more coal on the fire, dear.

Dr. Hinge: Now, just a minute, Hilda. They obviously called it all the wrong places. Did you try the Dyrenforths, by any chance?

Peter: Oh, yes, we tried, didn't we, D?

Mandy: Yes, we tried, P. But the drive gates were padlocked, and there was a notice in big red letters warning that trespassers would be shot.

Peter: So, reading between the lines, we gathered that they don't celebrate Halloween either.

Dame Hilda: Did nobody in the entire place offer you a treat then?

Mandy: No, not a thing. And we’ve been out since dusk.

Dame Hilda: There you are, then, Maureen. You see, this is not Scotland. People round here just aren't used to it. But you should see us on harvest Sunday. Ooh, we're positively abandoned.

Maureen: I shan’t be here on harvest Sunday.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, what a shame. We shall miss you.

Maureen: I tell you what, as is getting a bit late now anyway, why don't we pretend that we've been out and that we've just come back in again and that we're having a Halloween party?

Dame Hilda: Ah, now you're talking, dear. We'll turn the lights down low, we'll light our lanterns. Evadne will put some more coal on the fire.

Dr. Hinge: I knew that was coming.

Dame Hilda: We'll have some more sherry.

Dr. Hinge: And I knew that was coming too.

Dame Hilda: And we'll sing a few songs…. Well, Evadne, didn't you know that was coming?

Dr. Hinge: Why do you think I've already got the piano open, Hilda? And a piece of music to hand.

Dame Hilda: Which piece of music to hand?

Dr. Hinge: The piece you were so craftily put here, while Mother and I were getting ready, it's called Happy Talk.

Dame Hilda: Oh, how very appropriate.

Dr. Hinge:  Yes, isn't it?

Mandy: Didn't I tell you, P, that if anyone would be celebrating Halloween, it would be Dame Hilda?

Peter: Yes, that's what you said, D. That's just what you said.

Maureen: Mind you, she had a terrible job trying to talk the rest of us into it, didn't she, Evadne?

Dr. Hinge: Yes, she did. But we had to give it to the end. She has such winning ways.

Dame Hilda: Oh Evadne, do shut up and just play, dear.

 Transcribed by Lorraine Taylor