The Taming Of The Tights (The Misadventures of Tallulah Casey, Book 3)

The other two sisters nodded and Dil said, “And our Beverley wrote a letter to her. So she’s had her warning. If she dun’t clear off from our lads, she knows what she’ll get.”

Ruben said, “Oooooh, you didn’t threaten to sit on her, did tha, girls? That’s bloody criminal that.”

And he and Seth started laughing as the sisters evilled them and made off.

I felt a bit of a warm feeling towards the brothers even though they are awful. But I didn’t like the “Loopy Lullah” “long streak of lard” business. Being talked about behind your back was really not nice.

I was just about to creep off when Seth said, “Bloody hell, lasses are mad. Let’s go and gie him his tea and tell him the latest news from the village of the damned.”

Ruben said, “What’s all that stuff abaht them lasses from Dither Hall? Some of em are reight fit. And what abaht thee with that big lass? Wot’s her name?”

Seth spat.

Oh, charming.

“She’s a bit of awreet, that Flossie, just the right amount of meat on her and best of all she’s not like these milky lasses round here. They get on me nerves, always moaning and saying, ‘Ooooh, I love you, you’re me boyfriend now you snogged me.’ She’s got a bloody hefty right hand as well. But she’s a cracking snogger and a good laugh. Ah might let her near me.”

Ruben laughed.

I knew I should go away. But you know when you should go away because it’d be better all round if you did . . . but you don’t?

Well, I was doing that.

Ruben said, “What’s that daft Eccles going on abaht this lanky lass for? Loopy is she called? She’s that one that looks a bit wild, black hair, green eyes with them lanky legs, isn’t she? The one that sat on the blind bloke on the bus. Our Cain’s not messing with her, is he?”

Seth said, “Mebbe. Ah dun’t know. I wun’t be surprised. He’s not said owt but then he went out with your lass behind your back, didn’t he? You know Cain. He can’t leave lasses alone.”

Ruben said, “Ah know. That’s why he’s got a mad woman with a gun after him. I wun’t mind but we’ve got a Jones gig comin up. He’ll have to get it sorted.”

They went off.

They say you should never eavesdrop because you might hear something you don’t like. And I had. I’d heard that everyone knew I molested blind people. But worse, I’d heard that Cain can’t leave girls alone. Not that I didn’t know that because I did.

I’d been tainted by his nose-licking.

I wonder how many noses he had licked in his life.

Bucketfuls, I bet.

I walked back along the path. Brrrr, it was dark and cold. Like Cain. Dark, cold, and heartless. A heartless nose-licker. But he was something else as well.

The thing I’d vowed never to remember again.

The thing that, no matter how much I try to forget, I remember.

That wild night up on the moorland path. When he had said to me, “Will you do summat for me? I want thee to kiss me.”

And I had done.

He hadn’t made me. I had wanted to.

I don’t want Charlie to think I am deliberately thrusting my corkers at him.

You know, in a girl way. In an “ooooh, look at my corkers” way.

I hunched my shoulders a bit so that if there was any sticking-out going on it would be counterbalanced by my sticking-in-ness. Not too much, though. I don’t want him to think I’ve become a hunchback over the holidays.

Charlie was looking at me. What should I say . . . oooh . . . er . . .

I know what I can do to make the situation more normal, I can use my Inner Man.

Yes, yes, I will use my Inner Man to communicate with Charlie’s Outer Man.

What do men say to each other?

You know, to their mates . . . erm . . .

I said, “Everything all right at home?”

Charlie grinned even more. “Yes, thanks. . . . All well at your end?”

I nodded. “Yes, erm, tickety-boo, thank you.”

Tickety-boo?

Then Charlie said, “Look, it’s really nice talking to you about, you know, ‘home’ and everything, but it’s all a bit prison break at Woolfe because of the Phil incident so . . . I should go back.”

I said, “Yes, yes, sorry to hold you up, it’s just that Jo wanted, you know, to know if Phil is all right.”

Charlie said, “I’ve got a note from the villain himself.” And he handed it to me.

I said, “Oh, she’ll be so happy. Thank you.”

Charlie turned to go. “It’s lovely to see you again, Lullah . . . and, well, I hope I’ll see you a lot more. Bye.” And he gave me a hug.

I flapped my arms against his back. And then gave him a thumbs-up.

I don’t know why.

Maybe I am a man.

Jo was ecstatic to get her note. She read it and said, “I’d tell you what it says, but it’s very personal and private.” We all nodded and were going off when she said, “Oh, go on then, you are my besties. Here’s a bit of what it says, I won’t go into the snogging stuff . . .

“‘Jo, you little wild love bucket, you know I had to climb the fire escape of desire to see you. But then as you also know I sadly fell through the potting shed of life and slightly bent my l—’”

Then Jo started giggling uncontrollably and said, “No, no, I can’t tell you that bit, but this is the last thing . . . ‘I’m confined to my room and under constant surveillance. I won’t go into what they’re doing to me, but it was worth it to see you.’”

I thought Jo was going to burst into tears.

She said, “I’m going to hide it under my mattress in case I’m strip-searched in tap class this afternoon.”

I said, “Jo, we are free theatrical spirits. This is not a prison camp. We’re not little kids anymore. We are nearly women and have varying amounts of corker. . . . We can’t just be bossed about by—”

Dr. Lightowler came by and shouted, “If you’ve got a spare moment to waste gossiping, you need to be running around the school. Into your PE kit, girls, and ten times round the garden walls.”

As she went, Jo said, “Yeah, good point well made, Lullah.”

On the way b

The Tree Sisters were all agog when I came out. I said to them, “She did wink at me, didn’t she?”

Flossie said, “It’s hard to tell, but you definitely don’t want to do any more winking back.”

Next we went to the Taming of the Shrew analysis with Monty. I still felt a bit shaky. Dr. Lightowler really did seem to hate me.

Monty told us that it’s Kate that is called a shrew. I thought a shrew was a little furry creature with twinkly eyes, but when I said that to Monty, he said, “Oh ho! I see, you thought the play was about taming a tiny furry creature called Kate?”

Everyone laughed, but I bet some of them didn’t know. Or maybe they all did. That’s the trouble with me never having gone to theater school or, well, anything really.

Monty explained, “Kate is a headstrong, independent woman with a vile tongue and an even more violent temper. She refuses to listen to her father when he tells her how to be nice to men. In the end, Petruchio bets that he can get Kate to be nice to him. He’s going to ‘Tame the Shrew,’ do you see???”

I said yes, but I don’t think Kate is a shrew just because she doesn’t want to be bossed around by blokes. Fair enough, I think.

It’s a pity there’s nothing in the play about being bossed about by owly people.

At home in my squirrel room. Boy, what a day