Withering Tights - By Louise Rennison Page 0,38

turn my head away and look through the window and say, “Not now,” in a low voice. Except that there wasn’t a window and…

Then he just stopped and said, “Er, sorry, about that, erm…well, goodnight.” And he held out his hand.

I had had my arms by my side for the whole time and I put my hand up automatically.

And he shook it.

Then the worst thing happened. Well, another worst thing happened. Cain came round the corner. With a dead fox in his hand. He’d probably killed it for a little snack. He looked at us from under his black hair. I think he might have black eyes as well. And he was dressed all in black. He just stopped and looked at us, twirling the dead fox.

Ben said, a bit nervously I thought, “Well, I’ll er…see you around, Tallulah.”

Cain just looked at him and said as he went off, “Ay off you go, garyboy. Dunt make me leery because things might get a bit gorey.”

What did that mean?

Then he looked at me. Just looked. I didn’t know what to do.

He looked me slowly up and down and then half-smiled, but not in a jolly ‘ooooh what a laugh everything is’ way, it was sort of spooky.

He turned to go off down the lane, but looked back and said, “Now we’re evens. Tha’s caught me snogging and now I’ve caught thee snogging.”

I never seem to know what to say to Cain.

I said, “I wasn’t snogging.”

And he said, “No, and you weren’t cleaning your windows, either.”

As he walked off twirling his fox, I thought, next time I’ll think of something really clever to say to him.

The Dobbins were in the kitchen when I went in. But the twins were in bed so I was saved the staring interlude.

Harold was in an ‘interested’ mood and he asked me about the film.

“What was the genre?”

I said, “Um, bats mostly.”

Harold loved bats unfortunately.

I knew that because he got his pipe out.

Which, incidentally, he never lights, he just sucks it and points with it.

“Most fascinating creatures…I think I may have a stuffed one in a drawer.”

Never mind the bats, I have had my first kiss. From a boy.

I escaped from the bat chamber into my squirrel room where I lay down on my bed next to my squirrel slippers and gave them a little hug. It was a full moon and I heard an owl hooting. Probably Connie, hanging about waiting for the birth of her owl twins. Eating rodents to keep her mind off motherhood.

I feel somehow changed.

Not like a werewolf. Fur isn’t growing on the back of my hands. Although it might be growing under my armpits, at last.

I am no longer a child. My corkers are emerging, and I’ve had my first kiss.

I’ve had my first taste of bat – I mean romance.

As a mark of my new being, I put the squirrel slippers on the floor.

I will no longer have cuddly-toy type things near me.

CHAPTER 12

Whooo-hoo-oooo

The Tree Sisters in Loveland

Vaisey was waiting for me in the kitchen when I came down next morning.

She was nodding her hair-hat and pretending to be interested in what the twins had made at playschool. Dobbins said it was a vase. But to me it was a washing-up liquid bottle cut in half, with what looked like snot all over it.

As I was eating my toast, Vaisey kept raising her eyebrows at me. She said, “We should go, Lullah, we…need to get limbered up. ”

Now it was my turn to raise my eyebrows.

She said, “You know, the performance lunchtime thingymajig.”

I said, “The performance lunchtime thingymajig?”

She said, “Yes.”

I said, “Hmm…OK.”

Dibdobs said, “Oooo, that sounds interesting, what is it about?”

I said, “Yeah. Good point. What is it about, Vaisey?”

Vaisey looked like she had swallowed a whole shoe. Just then Harold came into the kitchen with a fishing net and wearing thigh-length boots.

“Morning, campers! And what a glorious morning it is. I’m going to take the boys fishing. Come on, Sam and Max, welligogs on and tricycles out!!!”

And he rootled around in the hall cupboard and brought out two wooden tricycles. The boys started making chuffing noises.

Dibdobs smiled, “Oooh, you boys think it’s like Thomas the Tank Engine, but it’s not a train, is it boys? What is it?”

Sam said, “Sjuuuge.”

Dibdobs was determined that although her boys might look like idiots, they were not going to be calling tricycles trains.

“Yes, it’s a huge…tricycle, isn’t it?”

They just went on huffing and tooting.

Then Harold popped back in to say, “Come on, boys,