Читать книгу The World of David Walliams: 6 Book Collection - David Walliams, Quentin Blake, David Walliams - Страница 32

Entering the school gates, Dennis spotted Darvesh waiting for him holding a brand new football.

“Do you fancy a kick-about?” asked Darvesh. “My mum bought me this yesterday. We’re allowed to play with proper footballs in the playground now,” he added, bouncing the ball triumphantly.

“Really?” said Dennis. “I wonder why Hawtrey changed his mind…”

“Do you wanna play then?” asked Darvesh eagerly.

At that moment Dennis saw Miss Windsor parking her yellow Citroen 2CV. It wasn’t so much a car, more a dustbin on wheels, but it was French, and she loved it.

“I’ll catch up with you at break, OK?” said Dennis.

“OK, Dennis, we’ll have a proper game then,” replied Darvesh, doing keepie-uppies as he made his way to the classroom.

“John, wait here a moment, will you?” said Dennis. “There’s one thing I still need to do.”

Dennis took a deep breath. “Miss?” he called out. John hung back a little.

“Oh, it’s you,” said Miss Windsor frostily. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to say I’m really sorry. I am. I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t have said that you didn’t have a good French accent.”

Miss Windsor remained silent and Dennis squirmed, trying to think of something else to say.

“Because you do. You actually have a really good French accent, Miss. Mademoiselle. It sounds like you are actually a proper French person.”

“Well thank you, Dennis, or ‘merci beaucoup, Dennis’ as I would say in français,” said Miss Windsor, warming a little. “Well done on Saturday. Wonderful match. You actually looked very convincing in a dress, you know.”

“Thank you, Miss.”

“Actually, I’m glad you’re here,” said Miss Windsor. “You see, I’ve written a play…”

“Oh yes…” said Dennis with trepidation.

“It’s a play about the life of Joan of Arc, the fifteenth century French religious martyr…”

“Wow, that sounds… erm.”

“None of the girls want to play her. Anyway I thought it would be fascinating to have a boy play her, as she of course was a girl who wore boy’s clothing. Dennis, I think you would make a very memorable Joan.”

Dennis looked to his brother for help, but John just smirked.

“Well it certainly sounds… interesting…”

“Wonderful. Let’s meet up at break-time and discuss it over a pain au chocolat.”

“OK, Miss,” said Dennis, trying to hide his dread. He walked away slowly and quietly, as you might retreat from a bomb that may be about to go off.

“Oh, I should have said–the play is entirely in French. Au revoir!” she called after him.

“Au revoir,” he called back in the most un-French accent he could manage.

“Now that I can’t wait to see!” said John laughing.

As they walked off together towards the main school building, John put his arm around him. Dennis smiled.

The world felt different.