A Midsummer Tights Dream. Louise Rennison
Читать онлайн книгу.
was going on, toddling around in front of me.
“Some boys are so useless at snogging. I don’t know why they don’t practise before they come bothering you. They could practise on… balloons or, or potatoes or a… melon or summat.”
Balloons? There was a whole world of snogging I knew nothing about and Ruby was only eleven.
Actually, it was making me feel sad thinking about Charlie. I’d really liked him. He made me laugh. And I thought he sort of liked me.
We were at the barn by now. I wanted to make sure that Connie had gone off. I said to Rube, “I don’t want my head pecked off by an enormous angry barn owl. It’s not even as though she would peck it off at once and get it over and done with. I saw her eat a mouse head first, bit by bit. Till only its tail was hanging out of her beak.”
Ruby crept off and opened the barn door while I crouched behind a bush.
I noticed Matilda sat down behind me.
Ruby came back skipping and said, “They’re on their own, come in!!!”
I went into the barn and when my eyes adjusted to the dark I could see them. Our owlets!!! Little Ruby and Little Lullah. Our little owlets.
Little owlets? They were HUGE! We spent an hour with the furry freaks. They can flutter about now, although they do crash into the walls. And they swooped down on to our hats. I think they love us and think we are their stupid friends who don’t even know how to fly. Well, maybe I can’t fly but I don’t poo myself all the time. I said to Ruby, “Look they are pooing while they are eating.”
Ruby said, “Ah know, sometimes you can see little mouse claws in the poo pellets.”
It was getting cold and late, so Ruby put them back on their hay pile. I didn’t want to handle them in case I was involved in a poo situation. But they were so sweet and they fluffed their feathers up to make themselves look bigger. And did head swivelling, to show off how far they could swivel. I feel proud of them.
I said to Ruby as we left them, cheeping away in the dark, “Little Lullah looks like me, don’t you think?”
As she pulled her hat down she said, “Don’t make me have to say owt to me dad about you saying an owlet looks like you.”
It was spooky down the dark lane with the noises in the fields and the rain and moaning wind. There were strange rustlings in the trees and a far off hooting.
Ruby huddled into her jacket and threw a stick for Matilda. Matilda looked at the stick as it flew over her head. Then she just went on toddling along. She knows that it’s not a biscuit, so why would she bother to go and get it?
Ruby said, “The Hinchcliffs have had a reight big fight. They smashed the Bottomleys outdoor lavatory when they fell into it.”
I tutted.
Typical.
“What were they fighting about this time? Who was the stupidest?”
Ruby said, “No, Ruben found out that Cain had been laiking around with his girlfriend.”
I tutted again.
Ruby went on.
“Cain made it worse by saying he was only doing Ruben a favour because she was a real mardy bum. And thick.”
Charming.
As we got back to the Dobbins gate Ruby said, “Oh, I forgot, Alex gi’ me a letter for thee but I left it in my room. I’ll gi’ it thee tomorrow.”
I tried not to leap in the air or do Irish dancing. I said, “Oh well. You know I had better… er, walk you to your door because of the… night… er, stuff.”
Ruby rolled her eyes at me.
“Come on then, soft lass.”
We went across the green to The Blind Pig and Ruby ran up the back stairs to her room.
I was hovering around by the door. With a bit of luck, I wouldn’t have to bump into Ted… at which point Ted Barraclough, Ruby’s dad, came out of the front bar.
I couldn’t help noticing he had a Viking helmet on.
And a guitar in his hand.
And was wearing a very tight pair of leather trousers. He was walking with small steps.
His whole big face lit up when he saw me. Oh dear.
“Well, what a lovely surprise – the thespian is back at last. Thank the Lord. Now then. Don’t tell me, let me guess what you are pretending to be this time.”
I said politely, “Hello, Mr Barraclough, I—”
He waved his helmet about.
“No, dun’t tell me, dun’t tell me… Are you a historic figure? I’m thinking the woolly tights. Your rain hat, the slight roll as you walk. Are you Nelson? I’m right, aren’t I?”
I said, “I’m not doing mime I’m just collecting—”
“Ah, the good days are back again. I’ve missed you. I really have. You and your friends, the STUDENTS. Monday, I will once more hear the sound of you cantering to Dither Hall on your imaginary ponies.”
Actually, Vaisey did have an imaginary pony. Black Beauty.
Had he been spying on us?
Ruby came back and handed a letter to me.
“Don’t go daft.”
I took the letter and said to her, “Heeee heee, why should I go daft, it’s only a letter from, you know, a mate to another mate, heeee, I don’t know what you mean.”
She just looked at me and shook her hair.
Then she said to her dad, “How did The Iron Pies rehearsal go?”
He said, “Bloody marvellous. The Iron Pies are going to be the biggest thing this side of Grimbottom. We are quite literally a sound sensation.”
Ruby said, “Oh yeah? How many songs have you got?”
“Well, fust of all, we’ve done some belters for the mums and dads. All with the original pie theme.”
Ruby said, “Like what?”
Mr Barraclough said, “The well-known James Bond themes, For Your Pies Only, Golden Pie, and From Russia With a Pie. Then a bit of a classic for the rockers, Rock Around the Pie. And a few standard Beatles numbers, The Long and Winding Pie, All You Need is Pies, Lucy in the Pie with Diamonds. We’ll be cracking. I’ll have groupies trying to get hold of my pies.”
I didn’t know what to say, and I also didn’t want to think about his pies any more… I was dying to read my letter. So I said I had to go because Dibdobs was waiting for me.
I ran across the green and into Dandelion Cottage. Harold was back from his knitting workshop and I had to do more hugging duties with him. Then I started yawning to give him the idea of beddy-byes, but he said, “Tallulah, before you go up the wooden stairs to Noddsville, let me just show you my new cloak. It’s hand-knitted, and as you can see it has shell buttons.”
As he was swishing around modelling it for me, he said, “You see, the shells show man’s connection with the earth or, in this case, Skegness beach.”
At last I was in my squirrel room. I have my squirrel lamp switched on by my bed and outside the wind is howling across the moors. But I am snug inside with my letter.
My letter from the Dream Boy.
I paused before I opened it.
To drink in its atmosphere of boyness.
Then I sniffed it.
And licked it.
I don’t know why.
I’m