Читать книгу ‘… then he ate my boy entrancers.’ - Louise Rennison - Страница 20

Mutti and Vati were on the sofa, curled round each other. I could clearly see Mum’s knickers. Erlack. And the curtains were open; anyone could see in. A fat bloke passing by might think it was a brothel for the porkier gentleman. I was going to say that but then I remembered my prongs. So I said, “Good evening, Mother, Father.”

Vati said, “How much?” without even looking at me. I laughed attractively.

“Oh, Papa, this is not a material matter, it’s to do with friendship and love and—”

Mum said, “I don’t care how many of your friends have had their navels pierced. You are not.”

“But I—”

But she was still rambling on. “Ditto tattoos.”

“But I—”

Vati joined in. “And no, you cannot have a flat in Paris and a manservant to help with your homework.”

Oh, how I nearly laughed. Not. I thought about telling Dad that Rosie said he looked like a brothel madam in his flying helmet and leather jacket, but then I remembered my charm prong and forced a little grin to play around my mouth.

“You two!!! Always kidding about you cheeky minxes! Anyway, all it is really is that, well…you know…Jas is all miz because of Tom going to Kiwi-a-gogo and, well…You know she’s my pal, and…well…it would be nice for me if you know…anyway, can she?”

Vati said, “Can she what? Move in? Levitate? What?”

I bit the whatsit. “Can she come with us to Hamburger-a-gogo land?”