A Midsummer Tights Dream. Louise Rennison
the memory.
Still, that was all in the past.
Dibdobs shouted up, “Tea’s ready!!! Boys!! Tallulah! Split splat!!!”
I shook my hair and gave it a bit of a va-va voom.
When I opened my door, there they were. The twins. Blinking and sucking on their dodies. As if they knew that I had nearly measured my corkers.
Perhaps they have a corker-sensing gene.
Perhaps all boys do.
What a horrific thought.
After tea (local eggs and a local sausage), I said, “I’m just going to pop to The Blind Pig to see Ruby and then we might pop and visit the owlets.”
I’ve entered the “popping zone” again. I like it. It’s very me.
As I went out of the door Dibdobs said, “Put this hat on in case of rain. It’s my camping hat.”
I said, I’ll be all ri—”
But she was ramming the waterproof hat on my head, completely squashing my va-va-voomed hair. I’d have to not take it off now in case of hat hair.
Dobbins said, “Oooooh, look at you!! You’re gorgeous. You’ve grown! Oooohhhhh.”
And she hugged me again.
And so did the boys.
It’s very hard to walk when you’ve got three people doing hugging.
Was it going to happen every time I went out?
Maybe the right thing to do was to hug them back and then they would let me go.
But that made it worse.
Dibdobs started hugging more tightly and I think she might have been crying.
I got away at last by saying, “Bye then!!!”
I was only going three feet across the green, what if we went on a school trip?
The Blind Pig was all quiet when I got to it. The sign (a pig in dark glasses with a white stick) was creaking in the cold wind.
I remembered last sitting here.
On the wall next to the pub.
With Alex.
Dreamy Alex.
He’d looked at me and smiled his smile. It was the best moment of my life so far. We were so close. I wanted to say so much. I wanted my eyes to speak the words I couldn’t say. Which actually might have been a bit of a surprise to both of us. If they had done.
So I said to him, “My knees are too far up.”
Why?
Why would you say that?
And then he had wanted to look at my knees and the whole thing had gone wrong, leaving him thinking I was just a stupid little kid. With out-of-control legs.
Well, I will not be saying that sort of thing to him again.
In fact I’m going to make a “normal” list in my performance art notebook.
Topics that a normal person would talk about.
Topics that are not knee-based.
Like theatre.
Yes, yes, I will tell him about the plays I have seen.
Well, actually I haven’t seen any plays.
Books, then. Yes, books.
I could say, “That Dickens writes a lot, doesn’t he?”
Ruby came bursting out of the pub door.
“I saw you through the winder. Ullo ullo. It’s me!!!!! And Matilda!!!!”
Matilda was barking and throwing herself at me, jumping up. Well, sort of. She was just thudding against my calves to be fair. Her bulldoggy face looks like she is doing a turned down squashy smile all the time. Maybe she is.
Ruby was laughing and her pigtails were jiggling about like ears underneath her hat.
She was still yelling, “Ullo ullo!!!”
It was so nice to see her little freckly face and gappy teeth.
She was skipping around me and shouting, “She’s back, she’s back!!! Matilda, show Loobylullah how tha can die for England!”
Matilda stopped leaping and lay on her back with her stumpy bow legs in the air.
Ruby said, “Do your Irish dancing over her. She likes that. Go on. I’ll do the singing. Hiddly diddly diddly. Hiddly diddly diddly.”
As she was bobbing around she said, “You should see the owlets! Shall we go for a wander now? You’ll not believe it, they’ve got right fat. Come on, come on.”
As she went skipping off, I said, “Should you tell your dad where you’re going? Or… or… Alex?”
She shouted back, “He’s not in, he’s forming a heavy metal band in Ormskirk.”
What?
I caught up with her crossing the green.
I said, “Alex has formed a heavy metal band in Ormskirk? But—”
She said, “Not Alex tha barm pot, Alex has gone off t’college. Me dad. You should see him in his band stuff. He’s got these right tight leather trousers. It’s horrible, and sometimes he can’t get them off. Or walk up stairs in them.”
As we went down by the side of the sheep field, I said, “I didn’t even know your dad could play a guitar.”
“Believe me – he can’t – but he can shout bloody loud and he’s got his own Viking helmet. It’s a tribute band.”
I said, “What to? Vikings?”
And she said, “No, it’s a tribute band to pies. They’re called ‘The Iron Pies’.”
I hope I never have to see them.
So no Alex around then.
I sighed.
No Mr Darcy to look at and try out my new boy skills on.
As we walked along I said, “Rubes, do you think my knees have got less nobblier?”
Ruby stopped hopping and looked at them. Then she bent down and knocked my knee with her fist. Quite hard. I said, “Owww.”
She said, “Aye, I think they av a bit.”
Then she looked up at me.
“I tell thee what, that corker rubbing has worked a bit too. Tha looks like you’ve got two walnuts down your jumper. You haven’t, have you?”
We were passing by the back of the Dobbins house, it seemed so familiar to be back here, but so much had changed. I was a woman now with womanly bits. And womanly bits’ holders. In various colours.
Ruby said, “Ay up, what did tha mean in your letter? You know, you said you would tell me abaht Charlie when you saw me.”
Hmmmmm. I felt a bit sad when I thought about Charlie.
Ruby said, “Yes, you thought he thought you were a long lanky twit and that, didn’t you?”
I said, “Er, Ruby. No, I didn’t think he thought I was a long lanky twit, actually. I’m not a long lanky tw—”
At which point I caught my head a glancing blow on a low lying branch.
Ruby tried not to laugh. I rubbed my head as we walked on through the dark woods and crouched a bit.
Ruby said, “Go on then.”
I wasn’t her plaything, I was a sensitive human being. I said, “I think you’re too young… I don’t