Read The Taming of the Tights Page 10


  A group of Woolfe boys jogged by. They all shouted, “Whey hey hey!!!” when they saw me. It made me smile. I haven’t ever been whey-hey-hey-ed by boys before! Then I saw Charlie. He smiled and waved. “See you soon, Lullah. Arrivederci!”

  Ahhh. I waved back. That was nice. Really, really nice. I walked on. He really is . . . well, I’m glad he’s on my Lululuuuve List. I’d only gone a bit farther when Charlie leapt over a gate and started jogging on the spot next to me. He said, “What a surprise! You’ll have to stop following me around, Tallulah.”

  Then he leaned against the fence. I smiled at him. This was nicer than nice. He said, “So what’s been happening, Tallulah, since we last met?”

  If only he knew I’d been doing mental snogging with him.

  I said quickly, “Oh well . . . I was thinking about, er, puppets.”

  He laughed. “Of course you were. Who doesn’t?”

  I went pink and said, “Only because we’re doing ‘The Magic of Puppetry’ first lesson.”

  He stood up again. “Outstanding. Will you promise me that the next time I see you, you’ll show me the magic of puppetry? Promise?”

  I nodded.

  Charlie said, “Ciao for now.” And he jogged back into the woods. Then he stopped and blew me a kiss.

  I felt very perked up when I got to Dother Hall. As we went into the small studio, Jo said, “I don’t need a puppet workshop. I’m Bob’s puppet. He thinks we might try making coffee tables out of newspaper and flour paste.”

  Monty was dressed for puppet action in a pink onesie. Like a really big jelly baby. He said, “Now then, girls, things are, well, rather tight at Dother Hall so we will have to use a little bit of imagination vis-à-vis our puppets.”

  What he actually meant was that we had to imagine the puppets. Because there were no puppets.

  What?

  No puppets in a puppet workshop?

  Monty shouted, “I do have slides, girls. Asseyez-vous, mes chères.”

  We were grumbling as he showed us slides of what different puppets looked like and what they could do. He was showing us a puppet dog fetching a stick with the aid of two puppeteers.

  I said, “What’s the point of doing a puppet workshop without puppets? It’s not a puppet workshop, is it? It’s just hanging about in a room with Monty.”

  Flossie said, “You wouldn’t have a sausage fight without sausages, would you?”

  Monty flicked off the slide projector, which fell over as it only had one leg, and adjusted his onesie.

  “Girls, don’t be downhearted. Here at Dother Hall we foster a sense of ‘can do!’ Don’t we? When the roof fell in, did we falter? No!!!! When the bankers and taxmen tried to close us down, what did we say? We said . . . pick yourself up, dust yourself down, and start all over again!!!!”

  After he’d done his little tap dance, Vaisey said, “Sir, what do we have instead of puppets?”

  Monty said, “Aha, we have OURSELVES. Regardez-vous the wonder of puppetry.”

  And he started lifting one arm slowly into the air. Like it was on a string.

  Then he floppily let his hand fall until it rested on his hip.

  Then he lifted his leg up. And placed it all wobbly over the other one.

  Like some enormous puppeteer was lifting his leg up with a string.

  We began to get the picture.

  It doesn’t matter what I do, Dr. Lightowler thinks I’m deliberately doing it to annoy her.

  After class, I was continuing the magic of puppetry by walking along the corridor lifting one leg up and placing it down carefully. Then lifting the other one up and waggling my head around from side to side, like it was on strings.

  The others went into the loos. But I was still being a puppet. I put my puppet hand on the outside loo-door handle, but it was too floppy. I tried again with my other floppy puppet hand.

  Dr. Lightowler said, “What are you doing, Tallulah Casey?”

  I said, “Er, well, I was just opening the door as a puppet. . . .”

  She said, “You are a silly girl.” And she looked at me with her big starey eyes.

  Weird.

  When the Tree Sisters got out of the loo, I told them about Charlie. Vaisey squeezed me. “Oooooooh, Lulles, he came to see you specially on purpose!”

  Jo said, “Yada yada yada. Oh yes, Lullah, go on about what it’s like to walk about in freedom talking to boys, why don’t you? It’s like showing a starving man a chip. No, not a chip. A packet of chips with extra chips on top. That’s what it’s like for me.”

  Vaisey said, “I’m going to come into the village after college with you, Lulles. I haven’t seen Ruby for ages.”

  On the way home, I was in such a good, happy mood as Vaisey and I walked along arm in arm. Two Tree Sisters together. Each with our own lululuuuve experiences!

  Vaisey wanted to know more about Charlie. “So what about Charlie then? What should you do now? Should you ask him about the girlfriend thing?”

  I said, “I don’t know. I mean, he’s not actually said anything. . . . He hasn’t said anything’s changed.”

  Vaisey said, “But he blew you a kiss, didn’t he?”

  I said, “Well, yes, but you know . . .”

  Just as we got to the end of the path, we heard the village church bells ringing. And when we crossed over the bridge, we saw quite a crowd gathering in the churchyard.

  What on earth was going on?

  As we got nearer, we saw Ruby was dancing around with Matilda. She shouted to us, “Ay up, you two, guess what? You’ll nivver guess what. Nivver, nivver in a million, zillion years. Nivver.”

  I said, “Ruby, why don’t you just tell us then.”

  She said, “I will. Well, Mrs. Bottomly took her gun out this aftie and accidentally shot him.”

  My heart went cold. I didn’t really think she’d do it.

  “She’s not . . . oh, she’s not . . . she’s not shot . . .”

  Ruby nodded. “Yes, she has. . . .”

  I was numb. “Is he . . . is he very bad?”

  Ruby said, “Oh yes, he’ll nivver do the tango again. She killed him.”

  I said, “Oh no. But, but Cain! I never, never . . .”

  Ruby said, “Ast tha gone a bit soft in the head? I mean the goat. Mr. Hinchcliff’s goat will nivver do the tango again. Well, it won’t do owt again becoz it’s deaded. Mrs. Bottomly shot it by mistake. There’s a reight big meeting abaht it.”

  I almost laughed with relief.

  Everyone was gathered round the gate to the churchyard. All of the Bottomlys were there, even Beverley who was being held up by her sisters.

  I said to Ruby, “She doesn’t look like she’s lost much weight on her starvation diet.”

  Ruby said, “Ah know. Her head looks smaller, though, dun’t it? P’raps she’s lost weight from there.”

  Sometimes I don’t know what to say to Ruby.

  Oh and the Hinchcliffs were there. Well, Seth and Ruben and I suppose that must be their dad. I’d never seen him before, but you couldn’t mistake the family resemblance. He was as dark and brooding as the rest of them. And he was carrying a shotgun. Oh dear.

  I wonder where Cain is.

  I huddled closer to Vaisey.

  Mr. Barraclough was standing on one of the gravestones. He had his Viking horns on. He shouted above the noise, “Ladles and jellyspoons, order, please, order!!!”

  Someone shouted out from the back, “Mine’s a pint, Ted.”

  Mr. Barraclough said, “Most amusing, Isaac, you’re barred. Now then, as Champion Pie-eater of Heckmondwhite, I feel it is my duty to sort out this regrettable incident. The shooting and bad mithering has gone on long enough.”

  Mr. Hinchcliff said gruffly, “She’s a bloody madwoman. Like all women, she should be locked up.”

  Mrs. Bottomly yelled out, “Dun’t start, it were tha bloody wild savage that started it. Sniffing around my girl, driving her to suicide and . . .”

  Mr. Barraclough said, “Now
then, for starters, I want both of you to hand over your weapons. You can have them back when the meeting’s over and we’ve come to some agreement.”

  Mrs. Bottomly and Mr. Hinchcliff both yelled out, “Over my dead body!” and “Nivver!”

  Mr. Barraclough said, “Well, I’d like to say that I hoped it wouldn’t come to me PHYSICALLY dealing with the two of you. I’d like to say that, but I dun’t mean it. Nothing would gie me greater pleasure than smashing your heads together. Hand me my botty-breaker, please, lads.”

  Mr. Barraclough rolled up his sleeves and one of The Iron Pies handed him a big club. He stepped forward. Mrs. Bottomly said, “Dun’t be hasty, Ted.”

  Mr. Barraclough said, “Now then, what’s it to be?”

  Mrs. Bottomly handed over her gun. Mr. Barraclough said to Mr. Hinchcliff, “Now you. You can have it back when we’ve sorted this lot aht.”

  Mr. Hinchcliff said, “You’d better.” And handed over his gun as well.

  Mr. Barraclough went back to his gravestone.

  “Now then, will the parties concerned step forward? Beverley, if tha will, my little luv, and what about Cain?”

  Mrs. Bottomly said, “He’ll not show his face round here. He’s not got the gumption.”

  Beverley burst into tears. Mrs. Bottomly said to Mr. Hinchcliff, “Look at the state of her. That’s his work, the black demon.”

  Mr. Barraclough said, “Now, now, let’s not call names. Beverley, do you want your mother to stop shooting at Cain?”

  Mr. Hinchcliff said, “I wouldn’t bloody mind if she were shooting at Cain, but the way she aims my whole bloody farm will be slaughtered afore she gets him.”

  Mr. Barraclough said, “Awreet. Beverley, I repeat, do you want your mother to stop shooting at Cain?”

  Beverley was hiccuping and sniffing. “Yes, I do. I nivver wanted her to go after him in the fust place. We were awreet before that posh lass came here to prance around like a tit. . . .”

  I tried to shrink down behind Ruby. Mr. Barraclough said, “Let’s not be unkind to our neighbors the thespians. Isn’t that what the Lord says, Beverley, blessed are the thespians?”

  Erm, I hadn’t actually read that in the Bible.

  Mr. Barraclough said to Seth and Ruben, “Nah then, you lads, will you mek an oath that your Cain will not bother Beverley agin?”

  Seth said, “Our Cain said if he nivver saw Beverley again it would be too soon.”

  And Beverley burst into tears and ran off towards the bridge. Mr. Barraclough shouted after her, “Beverley, I warn thee, I’ve got me dinner waiting for me. I’m not going in that river again even if you are.”

  The sisters rushed off after her. Mr. Barraclough went on. “Well, all that remains now is for the respective families to shek hands and . . . for us all to be friends, ordinary normal folk and thespians alike.”

  The Bottomlys and Hinchcliffs started to leave.

  Well, so that’s that.

  Vaisey said to Ruby as we walked out of the churchyard, “Do you think that’ll be it now? You know, like us all living in peace, peace and goodwill to others. Forgive and forget. Love thy neighbors. Treat others as you would wish to be treated?”

  Ruby said, “Don’t be thick, Vaisey.”

  We went back to The Blind Pig for tea and Ruby told us that Matilda is going to be The Iron Pies’ backing dancer. She said, “I’ll show you her costume. Don’t look until I’ve put it on her, then you’ll get the full effect.”

  Matilda had got stuck under the bed because she didn’t seem to like her costume, so I was mostly talking to Ruby’s bottom as she tried to pull her out.

  “Matilda! It’s nice—you’ll like it. You like your dark glasses and your leather hat.”

  Ruby eventually dragged Matilda out. Vaisey and I looked at Matilda in her backing dancer outfit. I said, “I don’t know for sure, but I think this might contravene some European animal rights act.”

  Surely it’s wrong to dress a dog in a ra-ra skirt. Even if it is very, very funny. And has matching booties.

  Return of the beast in trousers

  THE NEXT DAY AT Dother Hall, Flossie said that Jo has got a special kicking tree in the back garden plot that she goes to about every half an hour. No sign of the Woolfe boys; it looks like they’ve all still been kept under strict surveillance.

  This afternoon we have a “clown workshop” with Blaise Fox. At last my time to shine. Time to show what I am made of theatrically to someone who appreciates me!

  The notices we had in our pigeonholes from Blaise gave us an outline of the clowning workshop.

  Everyone has an “Inner Clown” struggling to get out. In this workshop you will discover your clown. Bring big hankies as there may well be a lot of crying.

  Flossie said, “I thought clowns were supposed to make you laugh.”

  I said, “They don’t make me laugh, but then I don’t like being chased by someone in big shoes with a feather duster.”

  Vaisey said, “I don’t know what an ‘Inner Clown’ is. I don’t know that I’m a clowny sort of person. Do clowns have curly hair and turny-up noses? Is that what Blaise means?”

  She was genuinely thinking about her Inner Clown.

  Jo put her arm round Vaisey. “You’re a bit mixed up—it’s this cold weather and the snow in the lavatory. Your curly hair and turny-up nose is your OUTER Clown. What you must find is the clown that lurks about inside you.”

  There was a honking noise and Blaise came into the class in a mustache and black lederhosen. She was pointing a stuffed fish at us. She yelled, “Don’t argue with zer Fischen!!!”

  So Blaise’s Inner Clown is a mad German fishmonger.

  Blaise had brought in an enormous box full of props and wigs, false noses, mustaches, and fake fur. Also there was another big box that had tambourines and those horns that you press and they go parp parp, and big rubber hammers and ladders, buckets, paintbrushes, traffic cones, and all sorts. We started riffling through the boxes.

  Jo shoved two horns down the front of her shirt and she was playing “Jingle Bells” on them. She said, “I’m going to keep these and wear them the next time I see Phil. I think he’ll like them and they’ll make a lasting impression.”

  She’s not wrong.

  Flossie went for massive eyebrows and a comedy mustache and was walking around with bowlegs saying, “Howdy doodie.”

  Blaise stopped in front of Flossie and said, “Well, well, and who is this Inner Clown?”

  Flossie shouted, “The name’s Hank, ma’am, and I’m lookin’ for mah hoss, Andrew. And then we’re headin’ for the goddam hills, ma’am!!!”

  We had to get into twos and “interact in a clowny way” as Blaise said. Vaisey clung to my arm. Her sweet little face looked all worried.

  “I don’t really know how to do this, Lulles.”

  I said, “Stick with me, little pally. If anyone knows how to be a clown, it’s me!”

  Vaisey and me rummaged in the boxes and found baldy wigs, enormous check trousers and red noses, and some hilariously big shoes. And I found some buckets and paintbrushes. Aha. The very thing.

  I said to Vaisey, “You know what we’re going to be with these big shoes and buckets, don’t you, Vaisey?”

  She shook her curls and I popped my red nose on.

  I said, “Go get that ladder, Vaisey. We’re going to decorate! And whatever I do, keep decorating!!”

  We set up in business as Coco and Loco, clown decorators. Vaisey got up the ladder and started pretending to paint and I “helped” by falling over a plank and getting my head stuck in the ladder. When I got my head out of the ladder I fell backwards over my shoes. And ended up with my bottom in a bucket.

  It was decorating chaos.

  In the end everyone was watching us. You name it, I fell over it or through it. And what made it even funnier was that Vaisey just went on decorating.

  Everyone was laughing at us, but in a good way. As the bell for the end of class rang, Vaisey bowed and I sm
acked her on the bum with my plank, she put the bucket over my head, and I fell into the trunk of props.

  Blaise said, “Marvelous, girls. All of you. But top marks, Tallulah! Lullah, you were born to be a clown. I’ve always said that you had an unusual talent!!!”

  Yes!! One nil to me, Dr. Lightowler!!

  As we went out for break, I said, “Ms. Fox, can I ask you something? It’s just I winked at Dr. Lightowler accidentally and now she thinks everything I do is to annoy her. . . .”

  Blaise said, “You winked at Dr. Lightowler. . . . I see, I see the trouble. She doesn’t understand you. She doesn’t understand that you are truly and genuinely daft. It’s your special gift. The world must see it.”

  And she went off.

  That’s good, isn’t it?

  I think.

  I was exhausted on my way back to Heckmondwhite. I was going to go and visit Ruby and Matilda, but I just wanted to have a bath and lie down. As I passed the church, I saw a poster on the door. Not another “Foraging Extravaganza—bring your own bucket” poster by the Dobbinses . . .

  But when I went to look closer, the poster had a photograph of the backs of four boys all dressed in black. One doing a rude hand sign. Above them was printed in capitals: DON’T COME, YOU LOSERS.

  And then at the bottom it said: “The Jones on the twenty-fourth.”

  So they were back. Bold as brass. They have no shame, those boys. It didn’t take Cain long to get over his near-death experience. He’d be the one in the middle doing the rude sign.

  Huh.

  I wonder why Vaisey hadn’t said anything. She usually tells me everything that Jack’s doing. Not that I care, and not that it’s anything to do with me, because no way in a hundred ways was I going to their stupid gig.

  I slept so deeply that night. The clown experience has completely worn me out. And I think I might have bruised my bottom, but I’m too tired to look. So I overslept the next morning and had to get a skedaddle on because otherwise I was going to be late.

  As I was rushing through the front door for assembly, Dr. Lightowler beaked along. She looked at me and tutted. Then, then, she did it again!