Louise Rennison - Withering Tights

Norkers?

Ping-pong balls in a string bag?

Honkers?

Corkers?

Actually, I quite like corkers. Well, I would if I actually had any corkers.

But I am in fact corker-less.

I went into my squirrel room and was just looking for a book to read when the door creaked open and revealed the twins. Sucking and looking. I don’t know why they like to look at me so much. Just looking and sucking. I looked back at them and then Dibdobs came bustling in and said, “Boys, there you are! What do you say at nightie-night time to Tallulah?”

Sam said, “Bogie.”

Dibdobs went a bit red and she said, “No, that’s a silly word, isn’t it? We say ‘Night night, Tallulah’. You boys say it now. Night night, Tallulah…”

The boys just stared, then Max said, “Ug oo.”

And turned and went off.

Dibdobs said, “Yes, that’s right, but say ‘Ug oo, Tallulah’.”

Sam said, “Ug oo.”

And Dibdobs said, “Tallulah.”

And Sam said, “Bogie.”

Dibdobs ushered him out. “Silly, silly word. Don’t say it any more. Let’s have a little story. Shall we read about Thomas the Tank Engine ?”

“Bogie.”

I’m reading Jane Eyre tonight for that Yorkshire grimness. I’ve got up to the bit when Jane goes back to see Mr Rochester, and the hall is burnt to smithereens and he is blind.

Yarooo!

And it is probably raining and foggy.

Before you experience the golden slippers of applause

When I woke up I was all of a tremble. I’m going to open my note from Georgia to calm me down. A bit of grown-up advice from someone older and wiser. Who has snogged.

Dear Tallulah,

Remember. A boy in the hand is worth two on the bus.

Luuurve Georgia x

What bus?

I washed my hair and it’s still damp, but at least it’s swishy. Swishy hair can get you a long way.

The Dobbins gave me a family hug and I went off to meet Vaisey by the post office. It was a bright, sunny day and she was wearing a little red skirt, leggings, a red denim jacket and a cheeky little hat.

She said, “I didn’t sleep much, did you?”

I said, “No, I had this dream that I went on stage and realised that I’d forgotten my knees, so my legs were all floppy, and I was flopping around.”

Vaisey looked at me.

As we walked along the woodland path to Dother Hall, we saw another sign pointing in the opposite direction. It said:

‘Woolfe Academy for Young Men’

Cor, love a duck. And also Lawks-a-mercy. I said that inwardly, but outwardly I said, “Blimey, and also, what larks, it looks like there’s going to be tons of boys around.”

Vaisey’s face went as red as her little hat.

And I must say I had butterflies playing ping-pong in my tummy. But what if the boys were like Connor and his mates, farting and tripping us up?

It only took us twenty minutes to walk to the Hall. It was a lovely walk if you like baa-ing. Which I sort of did this morning.

Then we rounded a corner and saw before us the ‘magnificent centre of artistry’, Dother Hall. I couldn’t help noticing its fine Edwardian front and the fact that its roof was on fire.

As we looked up at the flames and smoke a figure emerged on to the roof in between the high chimney pots.

I said to Vaisey, “Bloody hell, it’s Mrs Rochester. Bagsie I’m not Jane Eyre, I don’t want to get married to some blind bloke who shouts a lot.”

Vaisey said, “It can’t really be Mrs Rochester, can it?”

I said, “Well, you say that, but it all adds up, doesn’t it? We’re in Yorkshire on some moors at a big house, the roof’s on fire and someone, who may or may not have been banged up in the attic for years, has just come out on to the roof. I’m only stating the obvious. Who else could it be?”

Then we noticed that ‘Mrs Rochester’ was wearing a macintosh and carrying a fire extinguisher. And she started putting the fire out with foam.

After the fire was out Mrs Rochester disappeared amongst the chimneys.

We went up the steep front steps into a huge entrance hall where about twenty girls were giggling and shuffling about. It’s funny being in a place where you don’t know one single person. Well, apart from a person you only met the day before.

Vaisey said, “That girl over there by the bust of Nelson is standing in first position from ballet.”

Never mind about ballet positions, where were all the boys?

Suddenly a woman in a pinafore dress, with her hair in a mad bun, burst through the door. She had a clipboard.

Over the noise she yelled, “ Guten tag, fräulein und wilkommen .”

Then she started laughing. Well, honking really to be accurate.

She said, “The joke is, girls, I’m not German. You don’t have to be crazy to work here, but it helps!!!!!”

And she was off hooting again.

“So, let’s get to know each other. I am Gudrun Sachs and I pretty much run the place! Well, I am the principal’s secretary. First of all, I want to take your names and tick you off!! No, no, not tell you off, just put a little tick next to your names. Off we jolly well gehen .”

She pointed to Vaisey, “You dear, name, dear?”

Vaisey went red and said, “Vaisey Davenport.”

Gudrun did a big tick on her list.

Then she pointed her pen at me.

I said, “Tallulah Casey.”

Gudrun said, “Oh Begorrah, begorrah, to be sure.”

Crumbs.

She went round the group, and I tried to remember some of the girls; there was Jo and Flossie and Pippy and Becka, Honey, I think, I do remember Milly and Tilly because they rhymed. But unfortunately I was so busy thinking that their names rhymed I can’t remember who is who.

As we were being ticked off, Mrs Rochester came barging through, covered in foam. Gudrun said, “Everything back to normal in the fire department, Bob?”

Mrs Rochester, otherwise known as Bob, said, “The fire’s out but I’ve singed my ponytail in the process.”

He had actually. Well, not so much singed as burnt half of it off. The ends were all frazzled. He said, “I’ve been growing it since Wizard split. It’s an old friend.”

Gudrun said, “Perhaps if you trimmed off the singed bits it could be more of a…a…bob?”

Then she started chortling with laughter. “Do you see what I did there…Bob is called Bob and then I made a wordplay about his ponytail.”

After he’d gone, Gudrun said, “Bob is our technician-come-handyman. We have this very funny joke about Bob. If we are looking for him, someone might say, ‘Bob about?’ and that is the signal for the rest of us to start, you know, ‘ Bob-ing about’.”

And she started jumping up and down and bobbing about.

“Do you see? Taking the expression ‘bob about’ literally. Do you see?”

We all just looked at her.

As she led us into the main hall, I said to Vaisey, “Where are the boys? Where is Martin and his tiny instrument?”

Vaisey said, “I don’t know, perhaps he was just a model.”

I looked at her. “What, you mean, made out of plasticine?”

Vaisey said, “No, you know, not really a student, but a model pretending to be a student.”

I didn’t know what to say.

We went to sit down.

The hall had a stage at the end of it with a film screen set up. I sat on the end of a row, and Vaisey was next to a small black-haired girl. She had black shiny eyes as well. A bit like a human conker. I don’t mean she didn’t have any arms and legs and was on a piece of string, but anyway…

Vaisey and I said hello to her, and she said, “I’m Jo. I know you think I’m quite short, but I’m deceptively strong.”