Vaisey had ripped off her legs and went to find Jack, and Jo didn’t even bother to go round the back of the hall. She just went through the curtains and leapt off the stage onto Phil’s lap.

I crept down the back corridor and got my coat from the cloakroom without bumping into anyone. Oh, I was miserable.

I mean, it’s nice to make people laugh, but is that all I can do?

I stepped outside. Oh good, it was raining. As I put my coat collar up, I heard someone say, “Lullah, that was . . . that was, well, I don’t know what that was, but it was a gem!”

Charlie was there in the doorway.

I couldn’t bear any more of being the fool. But it wasn’t Charlie’s fault. And also it was nice that he wasn’t being mean to me after what had happened. He smiled at me. So I tried to smile at him a bit. I couldn’t get any words out, but I managed the smile.

He said, “Where are you going?”

I gulped and said in a cheery voice, “Oh, I’ve just got a bit of foraging to do at . . . home.”

Charlie said, “Are you upset, Tallulah?”

I said, “No.”

He went on. “Vaisey said you didn’t know we were all going to be here, and that you didn’t want to look stupid, but that you did it for her.”

I felt my eyes fill with tears.

He cleared his throat and said, “This is becoming a bit of a theme, isn’t it, between me and you? Me being a prat and having to apologize.”

What did he mean? Was he apologizing for laughing at me?

I said, “Well, you know, I suppose a horse doing a rap song is quite funny really.”

Charlie laughed again and said, “Well, it’s more than funny, it’s . . . but that’s not what I mean. I mean about the other night at the gig. Kicking off about you and Cain. When it’s none of my business.”

I said, “I . . . well . . . he . . .”

Charlie went on. “Lullah, you don’t have to say anything. I had no right to do it. And I’m sorry. And the Cain thing, I mean, that’s your business. I just don’t think he’s a nice guy and I didn’t want him to be mean to you. And in public as well. That’s all. So I’m sorry for being a prat. You can kick me with your hoof if you like.”

I looked at him.

He said, “Go on, you might like it.”

I kicked his ankle and I smiled.

He said, “By the way, keep rapping. I think you’ve got a nice voice. Maybe ease up on the Rastafarian vibe, though.”

He looked like he was about to say something else, but then he spotted a prefect coming his way and had to go back in.

I’m so happy that we’re friends again. In fact, I made up a little spontaneous song. Charlie said I had a nice voice. Maybe I’ll become a singer-songwriter. My song is called “Charlie” and it goes like this: