He said in a “kindly” tone, “Now then, young man, what can I do for thee?”

I said, “Er, well, Mr. Barraclough, I am just—”

“You’ve got very long hair for a lad. What is it you want?”

I said, “I was just looking … around.”

Ted looked at me.

“I know what you’ve come for my lad, well, as it happens I have got a photo, I’ll just get it for thee.”

And he went off into the pub.

How did he know? How did he know I wanted to see a photo of Alex? Had Ruby said something? Oh no.

Mr. Barraclough came back, carrying a photo.

“There you are, my fine fellow me lad, feast your eyes on that beauty.”

And he handed me a publicity shot of his band. The Iron Pies.

There were four of them. And Mr. Barraclough was the smallest. It looked like the drummer would never be able to get out from behind his drums ever again.

They were all in leather and Viking helmets.

There was nothing to do but go back to my squirrel home. Dibdobs and the twins and Harold were on the sofa and they all had their feet in a big woolly thing.

I said, “Um, night-night, I’m off to bed to read A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

Harold said, “We’re experimenting with a uni-sock, Lullah, and making earmuffs. But you get about your art, A Midsummer Night’s Dream aahhhh, ‘To sleep perchance to dream.’”

It had stopped snowing. Now it was raining. The rain was tumbling down so hard, it was rattling the roof and occasionally the black sky lit up with lightning.

I started flicking through A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

It has to be said, it is a bonkers play. All about fairies and Bottom and love potions. I’m going to write some inspirational quotes in my Darkly Demanding Damson Diary.

I write:

Nay faith, let me not play a woman. I have a beard coming!!!!!

This is a good one:

“Bless thee, Bottom!”

How hilarious to have a character called Bottom.

Oh and this reminds me of what Ted Barraclough said to Ecclesiastica Bottomly, when she was sitting on his wall:

“Methought I was enamored of an ass.”

Tee-hee, imagine being called Bottomly and having such a big bottom.

Don’t forget your Bottom

SIDONE WAS BACK AT assembly the next day. She came on in a gold catsuit and began pacing up and down. Like a gold cat. In a suit.

“Let me tell you a story, girls.”

She came to the front of the stage and continued in a sort of softy voice, looking out like she could see something we couldn’t see.

“In the heady days of my youth, I was in a Broadway production. Ealing Broadway. It was just a small part as a tomato in the comedy, Have You Seen My Tomatoes?

“But I gave it my all. Every night I turned up and I BECAME a tomato. As the show went on for weeks, some of the other girls in the chorus grew tired of being tomatoes, they said the costumes made them look fat, some of them didn’t even bother to dye their heads green. But I always did. Because I cared. I’ve always cared, perhaps I’ve cared just too darned much.”