I was exhausted on my way back to Heckmondwhite. I was going to go and visit Ruby and Matilda, but I just wanted to have a bath and lie down. As I passed the church, I saw a poster on the door. Not another “Foraging Extravaganza—bring your own bucket” poster by the Dobbinses . . .

But when I went to look closer, the poster had a photograph of the backs of four boys all dressed in black. One doing a rude hand sign. Above them was printed in capitals: DON’T COME, YOU LOSERS.

And then at the bottom it said: “The Jones on the twenty-fourth.”

So they were back. Bold as brass. They have no shame, those boys. It didn’t take Cain long to get over his near-death experience. He’d be the one in the middle doing the rude sign.

Huh.

I wonder why Vaisey hadn’t said anything. She usually tells me everything that Jack’s doing. Not that I care, and not that it’s anything to do with me, because no way in a hundred ways was I going to their stupid gig.

I slept so deeply that night. The clown experience has completely worn me out. And I think I might have bruised my bottom, but I’m too tired to look. So I overslept the next morning and had to get a skedaddle on because otherwise I was going to be late.

As I was rushing through the front door for assembly, Dr. Lightowler beaked along. She looked at me and tutted. Then, then, she did it again!

She winked at me. Just with one eye.

I didn’t wink back.

I so wanted to.

Today we’re having Sidone’s “Mistress class on The Taming of the Shrew.” Monty was already at the lectern when we went in. He had his dance tights on.

Flossie said, “Let’s sit at the back in case there’s any ballet dancing from Monty.”

Monty was very excited and as we took our seats he was practically doing the conga. Clapping his hands together for our attention, he said, “Girls, today we have the amazing, the astonishing, the divine . . . Ms. Sidone Beaver with her mistress class.” And he tinkled with laughter. “Did you see what I did there, girls . . . did you? It’s usually a master class, but I said mistress class because Ms. Beaver is, well, she’s a woman!!!”

I said, “Should we act surprised? I mean, I’d guessed she was a woman all along, didn’t—”

And, on cue, Sidone entered stage right in a pussycat mask.

She walked in a pussycat way to the desk and growled at Monty, who practically split his tights with delight. He was saying, “Oh, oh, madam, desist, desist!!!”

Sidone took off her mask and fanned herself with it. She addressed us. “What we are striving to reveal to a modern-day audience, girls, is that the battle of the sexes is as savage as it was in the Bard’s day.”

There was a swift intake of breath from Monty as he tried to sit down on his chair.