Читать книгу Withering Tights - Louise Rennison - Страница 9

We first learn to fill our tights

I woke up early the next day. I’d been dreaming that I had a bra made out of soap. It slipped off when I did my special audition dance and everyone laughed.

I am going to tie my hair up and wear a hat. Cain won’t recognise me again out of my jim-jams, will he?

Oh Lord, he has seen me in my jim-jams. Watching him snog.

I went down to breakfast and the Dobbins were all as cheerful as people who hadn’t been caught in their jim-jams in the middle of the night. Pretending to clean windows. But really watching people snog.

The twins were ready for an action-packed day of being really odd. Dibdobs said in her beamy way, “Morning, Tallulah! Say morning, boys. To Tallulah.”

They looked at me.

Sam said, “Oo been seeping?”

Dibdobs laughed, “Yes, clever boy, Tallulah has been sleeping and now she’s awake and going to school. Hurrah!!!”

But I don’t think Sam meant had I been sleeping. I think he meant had I been seeping. Because then he said, “I been seeping a lot.”

Dobbs said, “Yes, clever boy, you’ve been sleeping too. Like Tallulah. You’ve been sleeping in your beddy-byes and now you are up and dressed!”

Max said, “No! Lady!!! He not seeped in his beddy-byes, he seeped in his pants!”

I had to go.

I met Vaisey by the post office. She had her hair in a plait so it didn’t stick out.

She said, “Ruby plaited it for me, do you think it looks alright?”

I said, “Yes, it looks nice.”

I think she is wearing a bra, she seems more sticky-outy somehow. I didn’t ask her, but I might sneak a look later on.

I do like her, she’s so friendly. And she seems all excited and happy.

She said, “Did you do your assignment? What words did you come up with?”

Before I could tell her she went on. “At first I was thinking about what people said about me, you know…nice. Bit young. Mad red hair, sticky-out bottom. But somehow, nice, young, red hair, big bum didn’t make me feel good. And then I thought the words that sum me up are Black Beauty.”

I said, “Um, that’s a horse.”

As we walked through the woods she said, “Black Beauty was my all-time top favourite book when I was little.”

I said, “Yes, but you didn’t want to BE a horse, did you? You wanted to HAVE a horse.”

Vaisey said, “No, I wanted to be the horse. I was Black Beauty.”

“You were Black Beauty?”

“Yes, you know, free and galloping and so on. With black hair like yours. Not red hair. Sometimes just trotting along. Or cantering in high spirits. Look, I can even do dressage.”