Hang on a minute!

A spooky figure was staggering about up there on the roof. Dancing? A mad person dancing on the roof. Like a scene from Jane Eyre. Could it be the ghost of mad Mrs. Rochester?

I had a strange sense of déjà vu.

As I got closer, I could see that it wasn’t Mrs. Rochester. It was Bob the technician.

Up on the roof. Like he was the first time I turned up at Dother Hall.

In fact it wasn’t déjà vu.

It was déjà Bob.

What was going on? He seemed to be fighting a black parachute. On the roof. I don’t think gale force conditions are a time to go parachuting.

I pushed the heavy front door open and went into the front hall, which was a tumbling mass of hysterical girls. The noise level was a million decibels. Gudrun Sachs, Sidone’s assistant, looked even madder than I remember. She was in dungarees and had her clipboard out. She was shouting, “Girls, girls, calm down, let’s have some quiet while I take the register.”

No one took any notice. Everyone was too busy screeching, although some girls were practicing ballet positions. Or a bit of tap.

In the end Gudrun blew a whistle and shouted, “Achtung!!!!”

I was looking for the Tree Sisters when I heard a really posh voice behind me say, “Railly, railly nice to see you again.”

There they were—Lavinia, Anoushka, and Davinia. Lav, Noos, and Dav. The girls from the year above.

Lav was smiling at me. She looks even slimmer than she did last term and her hair’s all sleek and coppery. Even though she has a skirt and top on like mine, hers look about a million times more expensive. She said in a really bad Irish accent, “Bejesus, Tallulah, did you have a nice time in the old country, in Oireland, begorrah, begosh, bejesus?”

And she ruffled my hair.

Oh God.

I forced myself to smile and said, “Oh yes, well, hello.”

Gudrun started waving at us like a maniac and yelling, “Come and get registered, girls. Schnell, schnell!!”

Lavinia snaked her arm around my shoulder like I was her bestie, and said to me, “I railly, railly want to see more of your performances this term, Lulles.”

Lulles? Maybe I should call her “Lavs” as my own little joke. Yeah, I could say, “I’m just going round to the Lavs,” and so on, hahahaha … oh, she is still going on.

“I know you had like a railly hard time last term, you know with your Sugar Plum Bikey.” She looked at me and smiled a sympathetic smile. Which somehow made me want to poke my finger up her nose.

But she was STILL banging on.

“So I am railly determined to help you through this term. We could get together and try some ideas out.”

Oh no.

She was still talking.

“Hey, Lulles, begorrah, bejesus, I have just had an IDEA. Doh, how stupid am I? Why didn’t I think of it before? We could get our friend, you know, the boy from the pub, the one who has gone to Liverpool … Alex, that’s it, isn’t it? Yah, we could get him to come in and give us his professional opinion.”