The Misadventures of Tallulah Casey 3-Book Collection: Withering Tights, A Midsummer Tights Dream and A Taming of the Tights. Louise Rennison
to sit.
Vaisey and Jack sat down next to each other and Jack started showing her his mouth organ. To my amazement, she looked ‘interested’. Maybe that is what you had to do, look interested when boys talked. Even about mouth organs.
So that leaves me.
With Ben.
Ben was easy to talk to – if you like talking about what type of running shoes are best for cross-country. It was quite relaxing, just half-listening to him.
Then I heard Jack say the word ‘guitar’. And Vaisey’s head started nodding in agreement and she was talking as well. Must be about music.
How sweet. I think Jack’s a bit shy, but I think he likes Vaisey. Then they started singing together and Jack was making a drumming rhythm on his knees.
Phil was now tickling Jo, who was going mental. And screeching. So much so that Mrs Bottomly the driver yelled back, “Oy, stop playing silly beggars. This is a bloody bus, not a Mardi Gras!!”
Oooh, now Ben is telling me about how he does pull-ups because he’s a bit weak in the upper arm. And apparently upper-arm strength is a big plus when you want to join the Navy. And he does want to join the Navy.
He said, “When we do our cross-country runs I put bricks in my rucksack.”
Just to be nice, I said, “Crikey.”
The boys didn’t get off at their stop because Phil said, “We’ll escort you ladeez to your homes in case of carriages going by and sloshing your evening gowns.”
What is he talking about?
Phil said, “We’ve been doing Jane Austen at Woolfe, so we can get inside the female mind.”
I said, “What is inside our female minds, then?”
Phil said, “Well, for instance, should one of you want to climb up a staircase on the way home, we lads would have the training to quickly get behind you and walk up the stairs, bracing ourselves.”
I said, “Bracing yourselves for what?”
Phil winked, “Aaaa, bracing ourselves for the moment when you lost your footing, or fainted, and then we could catch you, saving you from injury.”
I said, “Why would we faint?”
And Phil said, “You might be startled by bats.”
And everyone laughed.
We said “goodnight” to the bus driver woman as we got off.
And she said, “Is it?”
I don’t think she likes people, as such.
As the bus careered into the distance, there was a bit of an awkward silence.
We were all still standing by the bus stop.
So I said to everyone, “Well, I’m off to my squirrel room. Thanks for the cinema, and the, um, Maltesers. It’s been, um, quite smashing.”
And I set off for the Dobbins’.
I’d gone about halfway when Ben came after me. “I’ll walk you to your gate, Tallulah.”
He looked up from under his floppy fringe and said, “I had a nice night, it was really interesting talking to you.”
There was more silence as we crossed the village green, so I said, “Um, do you like theatre as well as running and so on? Like we do at Dother Hall?”
He looked at me like I had spoken in ancient bee language. And repeated, “Theatre…”
I said, to lighten the moment, “Ms Beaver says it’s a harsh mistress and your feet bleed before you put on the golden slippers of applau—”
And I’d just got to “applause” when he put his hand on my shoulder and turned me round to face him.
I was about to take a piece of hair out of my mouth, because as he spun me round my hair went a bit wild. But he lunged at me, mouth first.
He put the whole of his mouth on mine. My eyes were open so I could see that he had his closed. His mouth seemed very big. In fact, I felt like I was being eaten. Even though no chewing was going on.
I had to breathe through my nose because he was blocking my mouth.
Then I felt a little proddy thing going in between my lips like it was trying to prise them open. Was there still a bit of hair in there?
Or maybe he had trapped his fringe.
It was very floppy and…
My goodness it must be his tongue.
What was I supposed to do?
The prodding was still going on. I had my teeth together because I was so tense.
The little jabby tongue thing started working its way along my toothline.
It prodded at the side of my mouth which was tickly, actually.
I don’t think laughing would go down well, though.
In fact, it was like being in Night of the Vampire Bats. There was a bit in the film where a bat flew into someone’s mouth, and you could see it barging around inside because the cheeks kept bulging out, and the bat’s little head popped out now and then.
Perhaps I should move my lips a bit.
Or perhaps now was the time to turn my head away and look through the window and say, “Not now,” in a low voice. Except that there wasn’t a window and…
Then he just stopped and said, “Er, sorry, about that, erm…well, goodnight.” And he held out his hand.
I had had my arms by my side for the whole time and I put my hand up automatically.
And he shook it.
Then the worst thing happened. Well, another worst thing happened. Cain came round the corner. With a dead fox in his hand. He’d probably killed it for a little snack. He looked at us from under his black hair. I think he might have black eyes as well. And he was dressed all in black. He just stopped and looked at us, twirling the dead fox.
Ben said, a bit nervously I thought, “Well, I’ll er…see you around, Tallulah.”
Cain just looked at him and said as he went off, “Ay off you go, garyboy. Dunt make me leery because things might get a bit gorey.”
What did that mean?
Then he looked at me. Just looked. I didn’t know what to do.
He looked me slowly up and down and then half-smiled, but not in a jolly ‘ooooh what a laugh everything is’ way, it was sort of spooky.
He turned to go off down the lane, but looked back and said, “Now we’re evens. Tha’s caught me snogging and now I’ve caught thee snogging.”
I never seem to know what to say to Cain.
I said, “I wasn’t snogging.”
And he said, “No, and you weren’t cleaning your windows, either.”
As he walked off twirling his fox, I thought, next time I’ll think of something really clever to say to him.
The Dobbins were in the kitchen when I went in. But the twins were in bed so I was saved the staring interlude.
Harold was in an ‘interested’ mood and he asked me about the film.
“What was the genre?”
I said, “Um, bats mostly.”
Harold loved bats unfortunately.
I