Contents ( 27)
- A Midsummer Tights Dream
- Dedication
- Contents
- Back on the showbiz express
- Winter of Love
- I’m not an ice cream, I’m a human being!
- There’s no people like show people
- Eat the boat!
- Human glue
- Calf love
- Don’t forget your Bottom
- My corkers are on the move
- He’s a rusty heathen crow
- The ladder of showbiz
- Good-bye to a Tree Sister
- The hamster slippers of life
- A naturally cracking kisser
- Tunneling for his life
- Return of Cain the Bad
- Warming up my Bottom
- The fall of Dother Hall
- A Midsummer Tights Dream
- Tallulah’s glossary
- Other Works
- Copyright
- Back Ads
- About the Publisher
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?”
I tried not to smirk. Walnuts now but maybe coconuts soon.
We were passing by the back of the Dobbinses’ 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 colors.
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. 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 think you’d understand.”
She said, “Well, I understood about Ben, when you said kissing him were like having a little bat trapped in your mouth.”
She was going on, toddling around in front of me.
“Some boys are so useless at snogging. I don’t know why they don’t practice before they come bothering you. They could practice 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.