Withering Tights - By Louise Rennison Page 0,43

track and crashed straight past me, because she couldn’t stop her little bow legs.

Ruby shouted, “She couldn’t stop a pig in a ginnel.”

Whatever that means.

Ruby was hanging upside down from a low-lying branch.

You couldn’t actually see her head, but you could see her knickers.

I said, “Hello it’s me. I can see your knickers.”

She said from upside down, “I know I’ve got my special apple catchers on.”

I said, “I feel all miserable now because Vaisey has gone to stay at Dother Hall.”

Ruby said, “I know, I miss her a bit, too. You should hang upside down, it doesn’t half cheer you up.”

“Does it?”

“Oh, aye.”

I had my trousers on, so I thought I would give it a whirl.

As we hung there, I said to Ruby, “You’re right, I do feel a bit better. I feel a lot redder too.”

She said, “Try swinging a bit at the same time. It makes you laugh.”

Soon we were both giggling like upside down loonies.

Ruby said, “Try swinging and putting your hands over your eyes at the same time. It’s brilliant, you won’t know which way up you are.”

In for a penny in for a pound.

She was right, swinging upside down with your hands over your eyes does make you not know which way up you are.

Ruby said, “What happened last night? Vaisey wunt tell me owt, but her hair looked like she’d bin electrocuted.”

I said, “Actually the film was a bit like this. Lots of hanging around upside down.”

Ruby said, “I’m not interested in the film. I’m interested in hanky panky with boys.”

It felt like being in a cosmic confessional. Just voices in the dark. Ruby threw a stick for Matilda upside down, but Matilda just watched it fly off past her. Then went back to trying to lick my face.

I said, “Well…it happened.”

“Ooooooo.”

“Yes. There was actual kissing.”

Ruby’s voice said, “What sort of kissing? Open mouthed? How long for? Tongues?”

“Ruby this a private thing.”

“I know, I wunt to know the private thing, that is why I am hanging around waiting for you to tell me.”

I went on.

“Jo did arm around and snogging.”

Ruby whistled. “With that Phil boy? The little cheeky one?”

I said, “Affirmative.”

Ruby said, “I quite fancy him mysen.”

“Ruby, you’re only ten.”

“I’m big for my age.”

“OK, so you’re a big ten year old. Phil’s fifteen.”

“I like older men.”

“Stop being daft Ruby, you barm pot.”

“Shuffle over and say that to me face.”

“I can’t even see your face.”

Ruby said, “Well anyway, tell me what happened to you.”

“Well, Jo got Phil, Vaisey got Jack, and I got this boy called Ben.”

“Ben, what’s he like when he’s at home?”

“Well, he’s quite tall and floppy.”

Ruby said, “Good good. Tall is good…floppy, well floppy can be alright, s’long as you don’t mean he’s a noddy niddy noddy.”

“What?”

“You know, a bit simple in the noddle department.”

Just then a male voice shouted, “Oy you two, what the bloody hell are you doing?”

It was Mr Barraclough. “I said this would happen, Ruby, if you mixed with the artists. The next thing you know I’ll see you in the streets in Skipley with Matilda playing the piano whilst you pretend to stand very, very still.”

Eventually he puffed off and we went back to sitting on the branch.

It was a lovely night with stuff tweeting, sheep scampering, cows frolicking. And then it got to be an even lovelier night because Alex turned up in his car. He got out and saw us up the hill on our branch and waved…and then started walking towards us.

I said to Ruby, “Is my hair alright?”

Ruby said, “Yes, a lot of folk like that matted look.”

I tried to smooth it down casually, but my heart was thumping as Alex approached.

He is sooo good looking, and he’s smiling.

I hadn’t seen him for ages.

Ruby said, “Shut your mouth, a bee might fly in it, and make a little bee house in there.”

I tried to arrange my legs so that they looked less gangly.

Alex came and stood in front of us and crossed his arms.

“What are you two up to?”

Ruby said, “Lullah was telling me that last night she—”

I interrupted really quickly, “I…um…I was just going to tell Rube that I wanted to wrap the whole of Dother Hall in brown paper, as an, um, Art Statement.”

They were both looking at me, not saying anything. So I burbled on.

“But there were only two pieces left, so I covered my book instead.”

Alex said, “I can tell you’re loving it, dahling, loving it at Dither Hall.”

I said, “Well, yes if you like being, you know…useless.”

Why was