Название: The World of David Walliams: 6 Book Collection
Автор: David Walliams
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Книги для детей: прочее
isbn: 9780007589029
isbn:
“Oh, you’ve decided to come have you?” growled Gareth as they pulled up. Not only was he bigger than everyone else, he had a deeper voice, and was disturbingly hairy for a boy his age.
When he showered he looked like a big monkey.
“Sorry, Gareth I just wasn’t feeling well. I have a pretty bad…”
Before Dennis could say “cold,” he sneezed again even more violently than before.
“Oh sorry, Gareth,” said Dennis, wiping a small gloop of snot from Gareth’s ear with a tissue.
“Let’s just do this,” said Gareth.
Feeling weak with illness, Dennis ran onto the school pitch with his team, coughing and spluttering all the way.
“Good luck boys! Especially my son Darvesh, and of course his friend Dennis! Let’s win this for the school!” shouted Darvesh’s mum from the side of the pitch.
“My mum is like so embarrassing,” rumbled Darvesh.
“I think it’s cool she comes,” said Dennis. “My dad’s never seen me playing in a match.”
“Let’s see a nice goal from you today please, Darvesh my son!”
“Mmm, maybe she is a bit embarrassing,” agreed Dennis.
That afternoon they were playing St Kenneth’s School for Boys, one of those schools where the pupils felt a little superior just because their parents had to pay for them to go there. They were a very good team though, and within the first ten minutes had scored. The pressure was immediately on, and Darvesh stole the ball off a boy who looked twice his size and passed it to Dennis.
“Lovely tackle, Darvesh my son!” shouted Darvesh’s mum.
The thrill of possessing the ball made Dennis forget his cold for a moment, and he weaved his way through the defence and approached the goal-keeper, a luxuriant-haired boy sporting brand new kit, who was probably called Oscar or Tobias or something. All of a sudden they were face to face, and Dennis sneezed again uncontrollably.
The snot exploded onto the goalie’s face, blinding him for a moment, and all Dennis needed to do was tap the ball past the line.
“Foul!” shouted the goal-keeper, but the referee allowed it. It was foul, but not technically a foul.
“I’m sorry about that,” said Dennis. He really hadn’t meant to do it.
“Don’t worry, I have a tissue!” exclaimed Darvesh’s mum. “I always carry a packet with me.” She hurtled onto the pitch, hitching up her sari to avoid the mud and ran up to the goalie. “There you go, posh boy,” she said, handing him the tissue. Darvesh rolled his eyes at his mother’s one-woman pitch invasion. The goalie tearfully wiped Dennis’s mucous from his floppy hair. “Personally I think St Kenneth’s doesn’t stand a chance,” she added.
“Mummmm!” shouted Darvesh.
“Sorry! Sorry! Play on!”
Four goals later, one from Dennis, one from Gareth, one from Darvesh, and one ‘accidental’ deflection from Darvesh’s mum and the game was won.
“You are through to the semi-final boys! I can’t wait!” exclaimed Darvesh’s mum as she drove the boys home, beeping out tunes on the Ford Fiesta’s horn in celebration. For her it was as if England had won the world cup.
“Oh please don’t come Mum, I beg you. Not if you’re gonna do that again!”
“How dare you, Darvesh! You know I wouldn’t miss the next game for the world. Oh you make me so proud!”
Darvesh and Dennis looked at each other and smiled. For a moment their victory on the pitch made them feel like they owned the Universe.
Even Dad raised a smile when Dennis told him that his team were through to the semifinals.
But Dad wasn’t going to stay happy for long…
“What the hell is this?” said Dad. His eyes were popping out, he was so angry.
“It’s a magazine,” replied Dennis.
“I can see it’s a magazine.”
Dennis wondered why his dad was asking, if he already knew what it was, but he kept that thought to himself.
“It’s Vogue magazine, Dad.”
“I can see it’s Vogue magazine.”
Dennis fell silent. He had bought the magazine from the newsagent’s a few days before. Dennis liked the picture on the cover. It was of a very pretty girl in an even prettier yellow dress with what looked like roses sewn on the front, and it really reminded him of the dress his mum was wearing in the photograph he’d kept. He just had to buy it, even though the magazine was £3.80, and he only got £5 a week pocket money.
ONLY 17 SCHOOLCHILDREN ALLOWED IN AT ONE TIME read the sign in the newsagent’s shop window. The shop was run by a very jolly man called Raj, who laughed even when nothing funny was happening. He laughed when he said your name as you walked through the door—and that was just what he did when Dennis went into the shop.
“Dennis! Ha ha!”
Seeing Raj laugh it was impossible not to laugh too. Dennis visited Raj’s shop most days on his way to or from school, sometimes just to chat to Raj, and after he picked up the copy of Vogue he felt a twinge of embarrassment. He knew it was usually women who bought it, so he also picked up a copy of Shoot on the way to the counter, hoping to hide the Vogue underneath it. But after ringing up the Shoot magazine on the till, Raj paused.
He looked at the Vogue magazine, then at Dennis.
Dennis gulped.
“Are you sure you want this, Dennis?” asked Raj. “Vogue is mainly read by ladies, and your drama teacher Mr Howerd.”
“Umm…” Dennis hesitated. “It’s a present for a friend, Raj. It’s her birthday.”
“Oh, I see! Maybe you’d like some wrapping paper to go with it?”
“Um, OK.” Dennis smiled. Raj was a wonderful businessman and СКАЧАТЬ