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The Taming Of The Tights
The Taming Of The Tights
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The Taming Of The Tights

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She took the note from me and read it slowly, tutting, and then she said, “That Beverley can’t really do joined-up writing, but I think it says, ‘To the lanky streak of lard’.”

What?

Ruby said, “That’s you, Tallulah.”

“What is?”

“You are the lanky streak of lard.”

“What’s lard?”

“It’s fat made from bits of cow.”

Nice.

She went on. “Then it says, ‘If tha knows what’s good for thee tha’ll shut it and sling yer ’ook.’”

I looked at her as if she was speaking rubbish.

Which she was.

She explained, “Erm, well, in a nutshell it says, ‘Shut up and clear off.’”

Charming.

There was more. Ruby read out, “‘He’s not interested in a bumberskite like you, it’s only because tha threw your sen at ’im and gallivant around like a tit.’”

“When have I ever done that? I don’t even know how to gallivant, let alone like a … and what is a bumberskite?”

Ruby had really got into it now. She went on.

“Yes, he, that’s Cain, isn’t interested in a bumberskite like you. Cain’s not interested in you because you’re like a sort of bum in a skirt.”

“Thank you, Ruby.”

“And secondly, because you threw yourself at him.”

I started going red. This was so awful.

“Threw myself at him? Threw myself at him!!!”

I was getting redder than red, this was a nightmare come true, then Mr Barraclough shouted from the pub, “Ay up, Ruby, it’s nearly dinnertime. Stop prattling with that big lad – next thing you know you’ll be wearing his clown shoes.”

Ruby started pulling on Matilda’s lead. “I’d better go before he sees his socks that Matilda ate.”

Ruby and Matilda tore off towards The Blind Pig.

I looked at the note. I suppose it’s like a threatening letter. I’ve never had one of those before.

What does Beverley know?

She can’t know about the thing that even I have forgotten about.

Can she?

Anyway, I’m not going to be blackmailed by the Bottomleys.

I’ve got my own little gang. The Tree Sisters. Wait till I tell them about the note.

Except that I can’t tell them about the note because then I’d have to tell them about the thing that I can’t remember.

And that even if I could remember I wouldn’t mention it to myself. I’ll keep the letter from Beverley as evidence, in case of an unexpected pie attack by the Bottomleys.

To cheer myself up after the horrid letter, I thought I’d go back and get my Darkly Demanding Damson Diary from its secret hiding place, and look at my ideas and notes from last term.

I calmed down a bit as I looked over all the notes I’d made. Here are my poems and short stories. Ooooh, I’d forgotten about writing The Daughter of Fang.

And here are some sketches for my dance tribute to Withering Tights.

Oh, teehee, here’s a sketch of Dr Lightowler.

In the name of Baby Jesus’s nostrils, she has got ENORMOUS glasses on. Perched on the end of her beak. I don’t know why she’s taken against me so much. Ho hummity hum.

I’ll put Beverley’s letter in my secret hiding place right at the back.

Oooh – here’s the James Bond book that Dad gave me. He said, “Best you learn the real facts of life” and I had read it last term, and re-enacted a corker-holding scene

and Cain saw me through my window and … but I won’t think about that.

Talking of corkers, Cousin Georgia said she could certainly see signs of life in my T-shirt when I ran for the bus. And in fact, as a celebration, she bought me a special packet of crisps that are actually called ‘Corkers’. It said on the packet, ‘Hand-cooked in sunflower oil, we’re sure you agree that Corkers are another great British tradition in the making.’

I’ve got Georgia’s Ace Gang ‘snogging scale’ in here somewhere.

See corker-holding with winter socks scene in the back of this book

Don’t look in the back of this book. Oh go on then.

I’ve stuck it in on a page right in the middle of my diary underneath a picture of the Dalai Lama. Although the Ace Gang’s snogging scale doesn’t really fit with mine, so far. I’ve written mine on the next page.

It’s called ‘Lullah’s Lulu-luuuve List’.

This is it:

1. Hand resting

(A friend of my brother’s put his hand on my bottom at the bus stop and when I said ‘what are you doing?’, he said his hand was tired and he was resting it.)

2. Corker-holder release

(On the bus, the same boy undid my corker holder. And I had to sit there jiggling about, as the tissues that I’d put in it for extra corker-ness worked their way into my armpits.)

3. Bat kiss

(Floppy Ben from Woolfe Academy kissed me after we went to see ‘Night of the Vampire Bats’ and tried to put his tongue in my mouth. And it felt like a bit in the film when a bat was trapped in someone’s mouth, just barging around.)

4. Nose-licking

(Cain licked a hailstone off my nose. I can’t discuss this.)

5. Proper kiss possibly lasting two minutes, with additional praise for knees

(Boy (Charlie) kissed me really nicely so that I felt wobbly and he also said he liked my knees.)

6. Cain Hinchcliff came up unexpectedly on the moorland path and he … and he … ooooh, proper kiss, lip nibbling and tongues

(Oh Holy Mother of God, bless me for I have sinned. With the Dark Black Crow of Heckmondwhite.)

CHAPTER 3 (#ulink_1fd09708-3f09-531f-9176-1610f010ba2b)

Return of the lunatic twins (#ulink_1fd09708-3f09-531f-9176-1610f010ba2b)

It was already dark when the Dobbins came back.

I was in my squirrel room and heard heavy breathing outside my door.

Dibdobs whispered, “Do you know who’s in there, boys? Shall we knock on the door and see who answers it?”

One of the twins said, “Eth.”

There was knocking near the bottom of my door. I got up and opened it.

The lunatic twins were in their fun-fur hats in the shape of otter heads. And sucking on their dodies. They looked at me and then both grabbed me round the knees and put their heads into my legs. Dibdobs was almost crying at the beauty of it all.

“Ooooh, boys, it’s Lullah, she’s come home!!!”

Max (or Sam) looked up and said, “Ug oo.”

And put his head back in my leg.

Then Sam (or Max) looked up and said, “Ug oo.”

And put his head back down.

Then Max (or Sam) said, “Ug oo.”

This could have gone on for years.

Dibdobs took charge.

“Right, boys, split splot, let’s get your jimmy-jams on and then have our tea with …”

They looked up and said, “Ug oo.”

And put their heads back into my legs.

We managed to prise them off at last and half an hour later Dibdobs called me down to tea.

The boys were in their jimjams now. Still with their otter hats on.

They started shuffling towards me for more knee–hugging, but Dibdobs stepped in firmly and said, “Let Lullah sit down, boys, and have her supper. Lullah, it’s a local supper.”

Max said, “Bogie supper.”

Dibdobs ignored him although she went a bit red. “The eggs are from Jessica and Maureen. Maureen’s the one with the club foot.”

I was just thinking I don’t know any woman with a club foot when I realised she meant Maureen the chicken.

As I ate my supper, the boys stood about an inch away from me, looking at me and sucking. It was very unnerving. They certainly do not get any less odd.

Dibdobs was prattling on.

“So much going on, Tallulah!! I must tell you about …”

At that point Max fell over Micky the tortoise.

Dibdobs laughed and said, “You silly old chap, Max, you just fell over Micky on to your bottom!!!”

The lunatic twins rocked with laughter. It was like being in the House of the Mad.

Max said out of the side of his dodie, “An’ sjuuuge bumbums. Look at my bumbums!!!!”

And he pulled down his pyjama bottoms.

Sam started laughing so much I thought he would choke. And both the boys began yelling, “Bum bum bum bum!”

Dibdobs said, with a fixed smile, “Yes, it is funny, boys, but pull up your jimmies now, that’s enough. You’re BIG boys now, aren’t you, and …”

Then they both started rubbing their bottoms together and shouting, “Bummity bum bum.”

Dibdobs lost her rag and flicked at them with her tea towel. “Boys, boys, that’s not funny.”

I quickly finished off Maureen’s egg and stood up. “Well, that was a lovely supper … I think I’ll turn in now, just do a bit more creative thinking for tomorrow. Night-night.”

As I went up the wooden stairs, I heard Harold come in. The boys were still squealing and Dibdobs yelled, “Now what will your father say???”

Harold’s voice rumbled up as I opened my bedroom door. “Put your bottoms away, boys. I’ve got some live maggots in my pocket.”

When I got into my bed, I flicked through my Darkly Demanding Damson Diary to look at my Lulu-Luuuve List again, and it fell open at the last page.