And then he said, “So, you’ve got a week to think. Let me know who you prefer—me or you know who.”

Charlie blew me a kiss as he walked away. I stood at the gate in a daze, watching him get farther away. As he disappeared up the path to Woolfe Academy, I heard him shout, “Praise the knees!”

Fir-cone earrings and knitted onesies

I HAVEN’T HEARD FROM Charlie since our date.

It’s Sunday afternoon. No note. No accidental meeting in the lane going to the barn. Even though I have pretty much lurked around there since we left it last night. The sheep are still getting into the hedge. I even tried bobbing down behind the fence so they couldn’t see me approaching, but they seem to sense my presence.

I wonder why he hasn’t been in touch. Should I be doing something?

Everything is hotting up for the Big Night Out extravaganza. By Thursday, the Tree Sisters were in our official meeting place in the dorm. Once again snuggled up in Vaisey’s bed, talking about boys.

I said, “I really like Charlie and I want to see him.”

Jo said, “So why don’t you tell him?”

I said, “I would if I could see him.”

Flossie said, “Charlie Farlie, how you girls do prattle on. I’m going to give that young man Seth a chance to make it up to me at the Big Night Out. Why, I feel downright mean and I done think he’s suffered enough not seeing me.”

I said, “Ruby said he was hanging around the churchyard with some of the village girls last night.”

Flossie said, “He’ll be trying to keep his spirits up.”

I said, “Well, you snogged Batboy in front of him, tore up his poster, and didn’t meet him when he said he’d see you after the gig.”

Flossie said, “I know. It’s all going to plan, isn’t it?”

What?

All week, the Dobbinses’ kitchen has been a nightmare of preparation for the Big Night Out in the Woods. Dibdobs and her village foraging group have been baking moss and mushroom tarts and freezing them for the last three days. And I’ve never seen so many conker bracelets and fir-cone earrings. Dibdobs has moved on from knitting egg hats to knitting onesies for animals. Micky and Dicky are wearing theirs. But not their mittens. So far Dibdobs hasn’t managed to get them on.

It’s the Taming of the Tights eve and it’s like being in a mad washing machine at Dother Hall: people racing around in costumes, cutout trees being carted about, doors dropping off. Practically everything is broken because Bob spends all his time rehearsing with The Iron Pies. The only constant thing is that Dr. Lightowler is looking madder by the minute.

I said to Vaisey, “Ooh, look, Dr. Lightowler has made a nest in the dance studio.” And Vaisey actually looked up to the rafters.

It was hard to get to sleep that night because I know Charlie will be back tomorrow.