Honey is arriving today, I’m so excited. She’s lovely and also sort of more experienced. She knows a lot about boys. I wonder what number she’s got to? I was panting a bit because I’d been walking really fast, and so leaned for a minute on the fence by the road that turned off to Woolfe Academy.
When I next see Charlie, I’m going to be very icicle-like with him.
I will be cool friendly, not rude but just cool, and forgetting about ‘it’, whatever ‘it’ is I am supposed to be forgetting about. I’ve forgotten ‘it’ already.
Then I nearly died of a heart attack because the girls popped out from behind a fence with their umbrellas up, like three mad Mary Poppins.
I shouted, “Jesus, Joseph and Mary!!!!!”
And they all laughed. Vaisey said, “Guess who’s here!”
Honey popped up from behind the fence.
She was sooo excited.
“Loobbyyluuuullah!!!! Ooohhhh, it’s WEALLY WEALLY gweat to see you!!!!” And she came over and hugged me. Then we all started hugging. And jumping up and down.
She’s just the same, sooo Honeyish. Not in a sticky way, just smoothy and golden and sweet. So pretty and with lovely golden hair and quite curvy. When she let go of me for a minute I looked at her properly.
She had an amazing mink-coloured suede mini skirt and jacket on. And long boots to match. And her hair looked sort of ‘done’.
I said, “Hey, have you got false eyelashes on?”
She smiled and said, “Yeth, they awe weally natuwal, don’t you think?”
And she blinked a lot so we could all see.
I said, “I’m going to get some.”
Honey said, “Aww, Looby, you don’t need to, your eyeth are all gweeney and like a cat’th eyeth.”
I felt a little smile turning my mouth up at the corners, first the jiggling corkers and now the cat’s eyes. Life was good. Even as a boy reject. I said modestly, “Oh, eyes-smyes, they’re just a bit green, you know. Nothing unusual about that. Loads of people have green eyes.”
Vaisey said, “No, they don’t, it’s mostly brown.”
I said, “Oh really? Yes, I suppose it is. People have, you know, noticed my eyes are quite green. Cat’s eyes they said as well. Yes, there is a boy and he calls me Green Eyes so I suppose that must mean that they really are green and not just… brown.”
Flossie said, “Lullah, have you ever heard the expression ‘Shut up about your eyes’? Yes, they are nice, but just shut up about it now.”
I looked at her and said, “You can’t stop me.”
She said, “I can.”
And I said, “I know.”
She shook my hand.
We linked up as we walked along. Wow, proper friends, I’ve got proper friends. The Tree Sisters. And it has stopped raining. We put our umbies down and Vaisey said, “We’re like the Brontë sisters on a good day.”
I couldn’t help thinking that Chaz, Em and Anne didn’t ever have good days. Unless you count the day they got an extra turnip, and Em wrote about it in ‘Wuthering Turnips’.
Even Jo was leaping up and down like an excitable retriever. It was my pep talk about human glue kissing that did it. I am quite wise in the ways of boys. Even though I don’t know what I am talking about.
Jo was shaking Honey.
“Tell her! Tell Lullah what you told us, tell her the news!! Go on!!!”
Vaisey said, “You won’t believe it, Lullah, you really won’t.”
What was going on?
Flossie said, “It’s IncWEDIBLE!! Isn’t it, Honey?”
Honey smiled and said, “Well, actually it weally ith.”
And it really was. Honey has been, what do you call it? Talent spotted!
Vaisey’s curls were bobbing about all over the shop. She said, “By an American-type person. Not from here or anything. A Hollywood-type of person. With a cigar.”
Honey said, “He came to see me in West Side Stowy over the holiday and he weally liketh my thinging and evewything and he wants me to be in movieth. I don’t weally know why he liketh me tho much, but…”
I gave her a big hug and I said, “It’s because you’ve got a lovely voice and you’re just, you know, lovely all over.”
She hugged me back. And I could feel her corkers against mine. And that made me go a bit red. And tingly.
Honey noticed too because she looked down at my corker area.
I stopped the hugging and folded my arms in front of me.
As we walked on, she said, “Yeth, so I’ll be flying off to do some scween testth.”
I said, “But Honey, why did you come back here at all, why didn’t you just go to Hollywood?”
“I wanted to be with my fwends and to say goodbye PWOPOLY.”
Oooohhhhh. That was so nice. Awwwww. She deserved a hugging for that.
And we all did another spontaneous hug. Holy Moly, I have become a multi-spontaneous hugger. I am turning into Dibdobs.
We were still hugging and squealing when suddenly Charlie came out of the undergrowth. His hair was wet and he had a waterproof on. He still managed to look cool though.
Unlike me probably. I hoped my skirt hadn’t ridden up over my tights while I was doing free-form hugging.
Charlie laughed when he saw us and did his smile. He caught my eye but I looked down at the floor.
“Aha, you’re here, the Tree Sisters. Nice to see you, Honey.”
She fluttered her false eyelashes at him and said in her deep honeyed voice, “It’s weally nice to see you ath well, Chawie.”
Charlie looked hypnotised and then quickly said, “I hoped I might find you. Can I join in?”
And Charlie came and leapt into our hugging circle next to me. He had his arm around me and I’m sure it was his hand on my bottom. I’d had a boy’s hand on my bottom before, one of Connor’s mates, but he had pretended it wasn’t his hand it was him resting his rucksack.
Charlie didn’t have a rucksack.
How am I supposed to do icicle work under these circumstances?
His face was so close to mine I could feel his warm breath on my cheek.
I swished my hair so that it fell down and shielded my face.
He said, “Well, this is cosy, girls.”
Everyone laughed. And he laughed. He’s got a nice laugh. And he smells nice, not like Connor who mostly smells of socks and hamster. I think that Charlie washes himself. And also he might wear boy perfume. I couldn’t stand the tension of being so near to him. My knees were tensing. Oh no, not Irish dancing.
Then, thank goodness, just before I started leaping around or neighing or something, Honey said, “Chawlie, I’m going to Hollywood!!!”
Charlie let go of me and said to her, “Wow, Honey, how fab is that, you little star.”
And he gave her a big hug. For slightly too long, I thought. Honey didn’t try to get away either.
Charlie just can’t seem to stop hugging. He is a serial hugger.
And then it got worse. If Charlie had been hugging me, especially in front of everyone, I would have either done my spontaneous Irish dancing or Tourette syndrome of the leg as some people might call it. Or gone unconscious.
Honey didn’t go unconscious. She went femme fatale. I had seen her do it before on Ben and his head had practically dropped off. She looked down and then she looked up and looked Charlie straight in the eyes. And she was slightly smiling. And fluttering her false eyelashes up and down. Crumbs, she was going the whole hog. She touched her lips with her fingers, kissed them and then she put her fingers that she had kissed on his lips and said softly, “Oh, Chawlie, I’ll mith you.”
It was like being in a French film. Possibly. I don’t know, I’ve never seen one. But my grandma said the French were ‘always at it’.
Charlie cleared his throat and leaned down towards her. I thought he was going to snog her! But he kissed her on the cheek and said, “I’ll miss you too, pet.”
I was thinking, “Oh yes, you’ll miss her, if you’ve got time in between all the other girls that you might miss or you’ve got in your pocket or…”
But then he moved away from her and said to all of us, “Look, girls, I would love to stay around hugging with you all day but we’ve got hopping practice. And I actually came to see Jo because I got a phone call from Phil last night.”
We looked at Jo and she went bright red. She looked a bit frightened as well. What next? Charlie went on, “He says can you make it to the public phone in the village, round the corner from The Blind Pig on Saturday at seven?”
Jo stuttered, “Well, I er… well, I er…”
As he turned to go off, he looked back at me and said, “Tallulah, we need to talk about stuff.”
And he was gone.
The others looked at me.
Flossie said, “What was that about, Tallulah? What stuff?”
Honey said, “I think he might like you, Tallulah, he ith thooooo gorguth, you should go out with him. I would. Why don’t you?”
I shrugged and was just about to think of something to say when Jo started hitting tree trunks with her bag.
“Oh, it’s all about Tallulah’s knees! Or Tallulah’s corkers. Or talking or something!!! Shut up about Tallulah, what about me??? This is about me!!! Phil is going to phone me!!!”
And she started doing run-run-leap around us. Then we heard the assembly bell ring in the distance and we all tore off up the drive to Dother Hall.
We went on running through the main doors, into the cloakroom, running on the spot as we took our coats off and then ran straight into the main hall.
I wish I knew why we were running.
We’d just scrabbled to our seats panting and were doing sitting-down running on the spot because we were so excited, when the stage door opened and Dr Lightowler appeared. I stopped my legs immediately and got them under control.
Dr Lightowler said, “Settle down, girls,” and swished her cloak about. It was made of black velvet and looked like it had fun fur on the inside.
I said quietly to Jo, “She’s grown a winter cloak.”
Even though you would have had to be a dog to hear me, her beady eyes swivelled round and fixed on me. And not in a good way. Not in a ‘hello, Tallulah, how lovely to see you’ way.
“And when I say settle down, girls, I particularly mean you, Tallulah Casey.”
Jo said, “Boy, does she hate you.”
I don’t know why she does. It’s something about my legs. She thinks I have grown them extra long just to annoy her. And that I do Irish dancing on purpose. She doesn’t know about having Tourettes of the legs.
Dr Lightowler went on, “The principal is away on urgent business today. In the meantime, as you know, our winter project is a reworking of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and I expect you all to fully participate. Keeping notebooks, doing lunchtime performances, etc.
I don’t think all of you understand the great honour it is to be at Dother Hall. But can I remind you that this is not Liberty Hall. You have come to work. And work hard. Those of you not up to the mark may well find themselves, quite literally, as in the Bard’s play, being Bottom.”
What is she talking about? And why is she looking at me?
Monty and Gudrun were trumpeting with laughter at “being Bottom”. In fact, Gudrun got hiccups and had to leave the hall.
It was only half-past nine in the morning and I was already tired. And confused. Having my bottom felt by a serial hugger and then the serial hugger saying, “we must talk about stuff.”
What did “we must talk” mean? What does “stuff” mean?
We must talk about forgetting about stuff? What was stuff?
For first lesson, Monty turned up with a copy of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and wearing green corduroy trousers to the knee and a cap with a feather in it. He said, “Girls, good morning, and especially good morning to Honey. Welcome, my dear, welcome back. I hope to hear your lovely voice in our production. Perhaps as the Queen of the Fairies?”
Honey smiled at him in her Honey way. But when she looked round at me, she looked a bit sad. She won’t be in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, she will be riding around in a limo in a Hollywood dream.
Monty went to sit down on a table but his trousers were too tight to bend easily, so he put one arm on the top of the table and leaned back, in a casual storytelling pose.
He said, “Once more we enter the magical, tragical, comedical world of Shakespeare and his wondrous fairytale. Now, as you may know, a great deal of the action takes place in the woods and to get into the proper spirit we shall ourselves, ‘enter the woods’. The woods are of course a metaphor for the imagination and subconscious.”
Rain started pelting against the windows.
I said to the others, “I hope he is being ‘metaphorical’ in that he means we will enter the woods in our minds, but not actually have to go outside into the howling rain.”
Honey said, “I don’t want to spoil my bootth, the wain might wuin them for Hollywood. I don’t think they will like thoggy boots in Hollywood.”
Flossie said, “I know, and my pants are only just dry from yesterday. I put them on the dorm radiator to dry, if Bob had found them I would have been hung for offences against the planet.”
Everyone else seemed keen to get into the woods.
Vaisey said, “Come on, it will be fun.” And stuffed her curls into her hat.
Monty started putting on his raincoat. My coat was still damp from walking to Dother Hall, but who said the ladder to the stars was going to be dry? We squelched across the sodden grass and into the dripping woods. A big raindrop went right down my neck. At least no one licked it off.
Monty had his theatrical welligogs on (stars all over them) and bustled along in front of us breathing in the damp forest air as if it was tincture of joy. Then he darted off suddenly and hid behind a tree.
We looked at each other – had we started the avant garde performance already? Then Monty’s head popped out and he put his hand to his ear and said, “Sssshhhhhh. Can you begin to feel it, girls? Do you feel the magic working, girls? What angel wakes me from my flowery bed? OOOohhhh, The Bard, The Bard! Genius genius!!!”
We blundered on while he yelled over his shoulder, “You can smell fairies out here!!”
We looked at each other.
Then he stopped and gasped, “Look, girls, look. Drink in the sight.”
He pointed to some mouldy old hawthorn berries clinging on to a twig for dear life against the wind and rain. He gazed at them as if he was about to burst into tears and clapped his hands and said, “Two lovely berries moulded on one stem.” And went chuckling off further into the woods.
After about ten minutes it stopped raining and as we lagged behind things began to look quite familiar. And then we realised that he was making for our special tree place.
How did he know about it?
Honey said, “Pwaps the twee weally does have stwange powers?”
Well, it certainly had a big effect on Monty. He threw down his satchel and began skipping round the tree.
“Girls, join in, join hands, join our little fairy throng. Let us make play in the woods, in the green woods.”
We started shuffling around the tree.
“Lightly, girls, lightly, as if you had wings!”
So we did light skipping.
Then he said, “Now, let us talk in fairy language!”
I said, “What if the Woolfe boys come along and see us talking in high pitched voices and skipping?”
Flossie said, “Well, they’ve seen us wiggling around in front of trees before.”
Monty pursed his lips and started trilling in a tiny tinkling voice. I happened to be next to him in the skipping circle, holding his pudgy hand and as we skipped he turned to me and tinkled, “Heeeeee… weeee… meeeee. Hewwww.”
And he looked at me all blinky as if expecting something. Flossie, Vaisey, Jo and the rest had their mouths puckered up. So through my pursed lips I squeaked out in my fairy voice, “Hiddddiddddleeeee didddleeee diddilllleeee.”
Flossie had a coughing fit she was laughing so much.
After half an hour, Jo went up to Monty and said, “Mr de Courcy, I can’t feel my bottom any more, can we go in?”
Monty patted her head. Uh-oh. If I was him I wouldn’t have done that. Jo accidentally stepped on Monty’s foot, quite hard. Then started walking back to Dother Hall.
As we followed her, Monty, slightly hopping, was still in his Shakespeare mood. He gestured after Jo and said, “She was a vixen when she went to school, and though she be but little, she be fierce.”
And trilled with laughter.
As we came out of ballet class that afternoon, I said to Vaisey, “It’s not really fair, is it? You know, ballet for people with my legginess. I mean, if I made Jo do, er… reaching for things on top shelves that wouldn’t be fair on her, would it? Because she’s too short to reach. So that is my point about me and ballet.”
Vaisey said, “I know what you mean, but reaching up to shelves isn’t on our syllabus, is it?”
And we headed up to the dorm.
We were sitting on Vaisey’s bed and Jo was lying on me kicking her legs, complaining. “It’s alright for you, Tallulah, all you’ve got to be worried about is your legs. Phil might be phoning up so that he can dump me.”
Vaisey said, “Why would he do that, he could just not bother getting in touch.”
Honey said, “I think he weally liketh you, Jo, he even liked you when you hit him and jumped on him.”
Jo wasn’t convinced.
“Yeah, but maybe he really did mind and he just didn’t say he minded, but he was storing up minding into a big fat pile of mindiness. To tell me about on the phone.”
Her mood was very catching. I said, “Who knows what boys think anyway? I mean why would anyone lick your nose? I don’t remember that on Cousin Georgia’s snogging scale. And do you know why? Because it’s not on there.”
Flossie said, “What is on the scale?”
I told them all I could remember. Up to a kiss lasting over three minutes.
Honey said, “After that it’s tongueth.”
We looked at her. She swished her hair about.
Vaisey said, “Tongues? What his tongue and your tongue? At the same time?”
Honey nodded. “Well, weally you have to impwovise.”
I said, “Yes, but how do you improvise if you haven’t got anyone to improvise with? Ruby said that some boys were so rubbish at kissing that they should practise on something. Maybe we could do that. You know, improvise with something.”
Flossie said, “Like what?”
“Well, Ruby suggested balloons.”
They just stared.
Jo said, “What if you accidentally bit the balloon?”
“Why would you accidentally bite a balloon?” I said.
Honey said, “You can do a bit of a pwactise by using one of your fwends legth.”
In the end, I stopped doing it on the back of Flossie’s leg, because she was doing her Texan accent and it made me feel sort of dirty. When it was my turn to practise, I put my lips on Flossie’s calf and Honey said, “Wight, Lullah, try sticking your tongue out just a little bit and sort of darting it in and out.”
So I did. Even though I can’t really imagine when I am going to be kissing someone’s calf. But what do I know?
Then Flossie started groaning and going, “Oooooh, that is so damn good. Why I declare, Miss Tallulah, you’re making me feel sooooo goooooood.”
It was horrific.
It was better with Honey, but she said I was too tickly, I have to practise more even pressure apparently.
Oooooh, I wish my Dream Boy was here to rescue me. I bet I could get my pressure right with him.
I wanted to go straight up to my squirrel room when I got home. I didn’t feel like hugging or eating anything local, so I said to Dibdobs I had homework to do.
She said, “Oooooh, I bet you are going to be a big superstar, with your lovely long legs and your oooooooohhhhh gorgeousness. Isn’t she gorgeous, boys? Isn’t Tallulah gorgeous? With her legs and everything?”
And so I found myself in a hugging extravaganza anyway. And I’ve got a local sausage in each hand.
As I lie here, cuddling my squirrel slipper and Hammy and eating my sausages, I so wish I had a boyfriend to help me and to talk to. Someone sort of older and more, well, more Alex-shaped.
I don’t like to ask Ruby if she knows when Alex will be back. She rolls her eyes if I even mention his name. Maybe I could stroll over there and not mention Dream Boy, just sort of see if I could use my feeling talents, or see if anyone accidentally mentioned him. I may as well.
Dibdobs has gone knitting with the boys. As I passed the village hall, I heard the needles clacking. There’s a notice: ARE YOU A KNIT WIT? COME ALONG AND KNIT WITH US! next to the poster for The Jones’s gig.
When I got to The Blind Pig I saw Beverley Bottomley coming out of the shop eating a doughnut. She looked at me and then she pointed two fingers to her eyes, and then pointed the fingers at my eyes and then she went off backwards pointing the fingers at her eyes and then mine. Why is she doing that?
As she went off down the road she called out, “Ay, Lady Muck. I’ve got my eyes on you. Think on. Leave our lads alone. Or else.”
Ruby was on her way out to dog obedience classes with Matilda. I’d forgotten she still goes. She’s been going since summer. I can’t say that it seems to make much difference to Matilda’s obedience skills.
Ruby said, “Last week we did ‘heel’ didn’t we, Matilda? She is right good at it. Tha knows when you say to your dog ‘heel’ and it comes and walks behind thee? Like this. I’ll show thee what we’ve learned. Let’s show Tallulah what you can do, Matilda. Watch, Lullah.”
She took Matilda on to the green and shouted at her, “Right then. Here we go. Heel!! Matilda, heel!”
Ruby slapped her side and shouted. “Heel!!!”
Matilda put her head on one side and looked at Ruby. Ruby said, “Good girl, HEEL!”
And Matilda lay on her tummy with her legs all splayed out. Like a grilled chicken. With fur on. And a collar with a big bow on it. And looked with her moony eyes at us.
Ruby shouted, “You daft lummox, I said ‘heel’ not ‘hoof’. She stamped her foot and said, “She’s as much use as a chocolate teapot – that’s what she does when she wants a hoofy treat. Come on, Matilda.”
And she went and grumpily picked Matilda up and put her over her shoulder. As she stamped off she called back, “Is tha going to The Jones’s gig? It’s definitely on. I saw that Seth and he said they were going to do it. Even though Ruben and Cain aren’t talking. I bet it will be brilliant, there might be a reight big fight.”
And she went off whistling.
I couldn’t just hang around without having her as my excuse but as no one was about I had a quick look through the pub door. No sign of Alex. Thank goodness Mr Barraclough was out because… just as I was thinking that, he appeared in his pinnie.
He said in a ‘kindly’ tone, “Now then, young man, what can I do for thee?”
I said, “Er, well, Mr Barraclough, I am just—”
“You’ve got very long hair for a lad. What is it you want?”
I said, “I was just looking… around.”
Ted looked at me.
“I know what you’ve come for my lad, well, as it happens I have got a photo, I’ll just get it for thee.”
And he went off into the pub.
How did he know? How did he know I wanted to see a photo of Alex? Had Ruby said something? Oh no.
Mr Barraclough came back, carrying a photo.
“There you are, my fine fellow me lad, feast your eyes on that beauty.”
And he handed me a publicity shot of his band. The Iron Pies.
There were four of them. And Mr Barraclough was the smallest. It looked like the drummer would never be able to get out from behind his drums ever again.
They were all in leather and Viking helmets.
There was nothing to do but go back to my squirrel home. Dibdobs and the twins and Harold were on the sofa and they all had their feet in a big woolly thing.
I said, “Um, night-night, I’m off to bed to read A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
Harold said, “We’re experimenting with a uni-sock, Lullah, and making earmuffs. But you get about your art, A Midsummer Night’s Dream aahhhh, To sleep perchance to dream.”
It had stopped snowing. Now it was raining. The rain was tumbling down so hard, it was rattling the roof and occasionally the black sky lit up with lightning.
I started flicking through A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
It has to be said, it is a bonkers play. All about fairies and Bottom and love potions. I’m going to write some inspirational quotes in my Darkly Demanding Damson Diary.
I write:
Nay faith, let me not play a woman. I have a beard coming!!!!!
This is a good one:
“Bless thee, Bottom!”
How hilarious to have a character called Bottom.
Oh and this reminds me of what Ted Barraclough said to Ecclesiastica Bottomley, when she was sitting on his wall:
“Methought I was enamoured of an ass.”
Tee hee, imagine being called Bottomley and having such a big bottom.