On Monday morning, as I went through the big front doors in my welligogs and hung my coat up in the cloakroom, there were loads of girls surging around as usual. I don’t want to leave here. If Dother Hall closes, I will never climb the ladder of showbiz and wear the golden slippers of success. It will be welligogs all the way for me or maybe even lace-ups.

Milly and Becca came up to me as I took my coat off and said, “What do you think, Lullah? Why did Cain do it?”

And Milly said, “Why did Cain do that weird thing to you? You know, the licking thing? The village girls were all hufty with us after you’d gone, Ecclesiastica gave us a message for you, she said ‘Tell your gangly posh mate I know where she lives’.”

Oh goodie, what was going to come first being chucked off the ladder of showbiz or having the golden slippers of applause stuffed up my nose by Eccles?

Then Lav and Dav came sauntering along.

Lavinia smiled her superior smile and said, “Helllllooo, Oirish, did you have a naaaice weekend, to be sure, to be sure. We all went down to London town to see a show, didn’t we, Dav, it was railly something. Kevin Spacey was in it as Richard the Second and he was like simply amazing. Railly, you know, lived the character. Amazing. His hump was, like… so alive.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say about a live hump, so I nodded and made for the loos.

But she kept on walking alongside me.

“What did you do, Oirish, did you do some of your special dahnsing to the village boys’ band??”

And she and Dav laughed. She put her arm around me and squeezed my shoulder and said, “Just joshing, Oirish, what did you do?”

I said, “We danced and, you know, chatted and…”

She said, “Ooohhh, have you been talking to boys, have you now? Any fella you’ve got your eye on? One of those naughty The Jones boys, is it? Or – no, I bet it’s one of those lads from Woolfe.”

What did she know? Had someone told her something? Had one of the boys from Woolfe said, “Charlie snogged Tallulah, and she was useless at it. Maybe Charlie had told Jack and he’d told bat Ben and all of Woolfe Academy knew.

But Lav just said, “Was, er, Alex around at the dance at all? I’ve got a great idea for A Midsummer Night’s Dream – it’s a sound poem with gongs.”

I said, “What do the gongs do?”

And she laughed.

“Oooh, Tallulah, begorrah, begorrah.” And pinched my cheeks and said, “Keep smiling.”

I wish she would take her imaginary hands off Mr Dream Boy. And off me.

 

Everyone was worried about what was going to happen to Dother Hall.

Jo said, “What if Phil does manage to get himself back to Woolfe and then I get sent home?”

And Vaisey said, “Jack may never carry my handbag again.”

And Honey said, “Even if it doesn’t close, I will never show my inner glorwee to my fwendth again.” And little tears crept out of her eyes. And even they looked like honey tears.

It was all so sad. And poo. Flossie said that Sidone and Monty and the rest of the staff had been away over the weekend and got back very late on Sunday and that Bob had been in charge.

Vaisey said, “He was in his studio playing loud rock music. When he came out he said, ‘This is a bum rap, like when Iron Butterfly split, the pain was enormous’.”

I wonder what had been going on. Was there a plan to save Dother Hall?

I soooo hope so.

 

We went into assembly and for once everyone was talking quietly.

We fell silent as Sidone walked on to the stage, followed by Monty, Blaise Fox and Dr Lightowler. Gudrun came on last, with what looked like a roll of wallpaper.

I said to Vaisey, “Now is not the time for decorating.”

Sidone was dressed in sports casual. She was wearing jogging trousers and an England shirt. Her hair was poking out of a cap that had a visor but no top which Americans often wear and I don’t really know why. Perhaps their heads are hotter than ours because of global warming.

Sidone started speaking very clearly and loudly, “Girls. Last Thursday, known as Black Thursday, we were in a state of despair. Our feet were bleeding, our hearts were leaking tears and tiny sobs were cascading from our souls.”

She came forward to the lip of the stage then she paused. She held her fist in front of her.

“But we rally. We carry on. Because…”

And she burst into song.

“…There’s no people, like show people we smile when we are down…”

She started swaying, so did Monty. As she sang, we all started swaying. Swaying was catching.

“…Everything about us is appealing, everything the censor will allow…”

At the end she waved her hand at Gudrun.

Gudrun didn’t notice at first because she was sniffling and swaying so much, then said, “Oh yes, good yes, it’s me, oh, yes, rightio.”

And tripped over a chair leg. Then she staggered on with an enormous roll of wallpaper and taped it to the back wall.

It said in big red letters:

We shall not, we shall not be moved!

Everyone went, “Hip, hip, hurray!!! For she’s a jolly good fellow…” and Flossie started a singalong version of ‘Sailing, we are sailing!!!’

Sidone waited for quiet.

“The thing is, my girls, we must go on – not just for us, not just for the showbiz world but for our own community. They need us in Heckmondwhite. In Skipley. In Blubberhouses.”

We looked at each other. Yes, I think we had a good idea of how we were needed in Heckmondwhite and Skipley and Blubberhouses. And at The Blind Pig.

Sidone went on. “I want all of you to think of spreading the word: Save Dother Hall. Some of you could entertain the shoppers in Skipley with songs. Or a mime piece on the village green? Clowns juggling with tinned produce in the post office. Think of the fun, girls. Get your thinking caps on. Mr de Courcy has a splendid idea for market day which he wants to show us.”

Monty smiled and walked off stage. He was taking off his favourite tweed jacket and slipping down his red braces. I said to the girls, “Mary Mother of God, he’s not going to do a fundraising stripathon, is he? The village lads will tear him apart.”

Jo said, “It’s not a bad idea. He won’t get any money for taking his clothes off but I bet a load of people would give him money to put them back on!” And we sniggered.

Sidone said, “I am sure you will have many bright ideas of your own, my little stars. And Mr Barraclough at The Blind Pig will be more than happy to have a performance in his pub.””

Monty hove back into view. In his dance tights. He began tap-dancing and singing to “If you go down to the woods today you’re sure of a big surprise.”

Oh holy angel Gabriel and all his cohort!!

As we filed out, Flossie said to me, “Yes, Tallulah, do you remember what larks we had, when we last performed at The Blind Pig? When you were a little horsie and you were so good, weren’t you, that Mr Barraclough still offers you apples.”

 

At home time, Flossie, Vaisey, Jo and I pretended we were popping down to Heckmondwhite to get some goodbye jammy dodgers whilst Honey packed. But we had the jammy dodgers already! We were really making up a tribute song to Honey in the music studio.

After about half an hour of practice, Flossie said, “Er, Lullah, I’m not being mean or anything, but can you just play the tambourine.”

 

Walking home, I was talking to myself to keep warm.

“So, in conclusion, I have accidentally got into a performing arts college, hooray, and then just as I was chugging along on the showbiz express of life it has crashed into an unexpected otter. Boo. But there is a plan, to get the showbiz express back on track. Hooray! And do you know what that is? We’re going to improvise A Midsummer Night’s Dream in The Blind Pig, in tights, and go into the village and let the village folk laugh at us in our tights. And the Bottomley sisters and the village girls who already hate us will have a field day hating us and laughing at us in our tights.

Then as a coup d’état Alex will turn up and see me in my tights and that will be the end of my life. And then Dother Hall will be closed down anyway.”

Oh noooooo. Booooooo.