Читать книгу The World of David Walliams: 6 Book Collection - David Walliams, Quentin Blake, David Walliams - Страница 26

It wasn’t until the weekend that Dennis was allowed out of the house. Dad had locked the computer away in a cupboard, and Dennis was forbidden to watch the television so he had missed a number of episodes of Trisha.

Finally, on Saturday morning, Dad relented and Dennis was let out for the day. He wanted to go round to Darvesh’s flat to wish him luck for the final. On the way he stopped off at Raj’s to get something to eat. He only had 13p to spend, as his pocket money had been frozen indefinitely. Raj greeted him as warmly as he always did.

“Ah, my favourite customer!” exclaimed Raj.

“Hi, Raj,” said Dennis, mutedly. “Have you got anything for 13p?”

“Erm, let me think. Half a Chomp bar?”

Dennis smiled. It was the first time he had smiled in a week.

“It’s nice to see you smile, Dennis. Lisa told me what happened at school. I am very sorry.”

“Thanks, Raj.”

“I must say you had me fooled though! Very good you looked, Denise! Ha ha! But I mean, being expelled for putting on a dress. It’s absurd! You haven’t done anything wrong, Dennis. You mustn’t be made to feel like you have.”

“Thanks, Raj.”

“Please help yourself to some free confectionery…”

“Wow thanks…” Dennis’s eyes lit up.

“…to the value of 22p.”

Watching Darvesh pack his football kit for the final was harder than Dennis had imagined. Not being able to play was the worst part of being expelled.

“I’m gutted you’re not in the team today, Dennis,” said Darvesh as he sniffed his socks to check they were clean. “You’re our star striker.”

“You guys will be OK,” said Dennis supportively.

“We don’t stand a chance without you and you know it. That Hawtrey is so evil, expelling you.”

“Well it’s done now, isn’t it? There’s nothing I can do.”

“There must be something. It’s so unfair. It’s only dressing up. It doesn’t bother me you know. You’re still Dennis, my mate, with or without the dress.”

Dennis was really touched, and wanted to hug Darvesh, but being twelve-year-old boys, hugging wasn’t really something they did.

“Those high heels must have been uncomfortable though!” said Darvesh.

“They’re murder!” said Dennis, laughing.

“Here’s your pre-match snack!” said Darvesh’s mum as she entered the room, carrying a tray piled high with food.

“What’s all this, Mum?” moaned Darvesh.

“I made you a little masala, some rice, dal, a chapatti, samosas, followed by a Wall’s Vienetta…”

“I can’t eat all this now, Mum! I’ll throw up! The game is in an hour!”

“You need your strength, boy! Doesn’t he, Dennis?”

“Well yes…” Dennis hesitated. “I suppose…”

“You tell him, Dennis, he won’t listen to me! You know I’m so sad you’re not playing today.”

“Thanks, it’s been a horrible week,” replied Dennis.

“You poor boy, expelled just for not wearing the correct school uniform. Darvesh never told me, what exactly were you wearing?”

“Erm, it really doesn’t matter Mum…” said Darvesh. He attempted to hurry her out of his room.

“No, it’s OK,” said Dennis. “I don’t mind her knowing.”

“Knowing what?” asked Darvesh’s mum.

“Well,” Dennis paused, before continuing in a serious tone. “I went to school wearing an orange sequined dress.”

There was silence for a moment.

“Oh, Dennis,” she said. “What a terrible thing to do!”

Dennis paled.

“I mean, orange is really not your colour Dennis,” she continued. “With your light hair you would probably look better in a pastel colour like pink or baby blue.”

“Um… thank you, said Dennis.”

“My pleasure, you can come to me anytime for style advice. Now come on, Darvesh, eat up. I’ll just go and start the car,” she said as she left the room.

“Your mum’s cool,” said Dennis. “I love her!”

“I love her too but she’s nuts!” said Darvesh with a laugh. “So are you going to come and watch the game then? Everyone will be there.”

“I don’t know…”

“I know it will be a bit weird for you, but come with us. It won’t be the same without you. We need you there, Dennis, if only to cheer us on. Please?”

“I don’t know if I should…” said Dennis.

“Please?”