Читать книгу The Complete Fab Confessions of Georgia Nicolson: Books 1-10 - Louise Rennison - Страница 516

I walked really really slowly along to Elvis’s hut. At least if I took ages to find Elvis I might miss most of English. Sadly that is when I saw his stupid flat hat bobbling around. Not on its own, unfortunately, he was underneath it. Pushing his wheelbarrow along. I walked up quietly behind him and said really enthusiastically, “MR ATTWOOD, HELLO!!!”

He leaped up like a perv in overalls (which he is). When he saw it was me he had a nervy spaz.

“What do YOU want?”

“Mr Attwood, it’s me!!!”

“I know who you are all right. Why are you shouting?”

“I thought you might have gone deaf.”

“Well I haven’t.”

“Well you might have. You see, I know what it’s like at your stage of life – my grandad is deaf. And he’s got bandy legs.”

“Well I’m not deaf. What do you want? I’m still not right, you know. My knee gives me awful gyp.”

“Slim … er … Miss Simpson said I had to come and apologise.”

“Yes, well, quite right too.”

He was SO annoying. And a bit pingy-pongoes when you got down-wind of him.

I said, “So, then. See you around.”

He said, “Just a minute – you haven’t said you are sorry yet.”

“I have. I just told you I had to come and apologise.”

“I know, but you haven’t.”

I said patiently, “Well, why am I here, then? Am I a mirage?”

“No you’re not a mirage, you’re a bloody nuisance.”

“Thank you.”

“Clear off. And you should behave a bit more like ayoung lady. In my day you would have …”

I interrupted him politely, “Mr Attwood, interesting though the Stone Age is, I really haven’t got time to discuss your childhood. I’ll just say au revoir and if I don’t see you again in this life, best of luck in that great caretakers’ home in the sky.”

He was muttering and adjusting his trousers (erlack!), but he shambled off. He daren’t say too much to me because he suspects I have seen his nuddy mags, which I have.