Grandad started with a ceremonial cutting of the stem with the sword he’d borrowed from the pub wall. Even at eight o’clock, a crowd had already started gathering. Not just Sadiq and John Trinidad and Colin—there were people everywhere. Everyone knew the pumpkin was almost fully grown, and there were wild rumors circulating about what would happen next. Grandad was in his element. A murmur went around. A buzz as Grandad leaned an old ladder up against the side of the pumpkin. People took pictures on their phones. Grandad pulled up Marty, who had had tea and finger-brushed his teeth by now. They grabbed the sword between them and on three hacked through the stem. A loud cheer went up. The pumpkin, of course, didn’t move; it wasn’t about to bounce away, weighing, as it did, about three tons. What they needed to do now was to remove the stalk end, create a rounded opening, exactly like a Halloween pumpkin, and scoop out the insides. This might sound straightforward—I’m sure you’ve done this on the kitchen table with your mum or auntie or someone shouting at you to be careful. However, this was on a slightly different scale. The pumpkin’s skin was so thick, it seemed actually impenetrable, and this was why Grandad had borrowed Colin’s chain saw. Grandad threw down a rope, and Colin tied the chain saw to it, as climbing a ladder with a chain saw is probably not a great idea. Grandad pulled it up the bulging side of the pumpkin, and Marty watched as Grandad filled it with gasoline from a canister and fired it up. It mewed and roared in the morning sunshine. Another round of clapping went on.

The first cut was amazing, and Marty wished that Gracie had been there to see it. It was like the pumpkin absorbed the noise from the chain and reverberated it around its whole massive body. It transferred into a wibble of excitement in everyone else’s stomachs. Grandad paused for a moment and threw off his trilby, then he turned up his shirtsleeves. He cut and cut, firmly but gently, like a surgeon, wanting to turn this pumpkin into something wondrous rather than hurt it or damage it. Then, eventually, he switched off the chain saw.

“Chuck us up the shovel, Colin!” Grandad cried. Colin did as he was told. Then Grandad slid the spade into the cut he’d made and jammed his foot down hard to lift the lid of the pumpkin. He was sweating already. The lid shifted, then croaked.

“Come on, Grandad!”