A Midsummer Tights Dream. Louise Rennison

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      We arrived at the bus stop in Heckmondwhite just as it was getting dark. In my Dother Hall brochure it says, “Heckmondwhite has its own ‘zany’ cosmopolitan atmosphere.”

      I don’t know that most people would call a village green and a post office and a pub called The Blind Pig “zany”. Unless you counted the knitted flags over the village hall.

      I bet the Dobbins, my substitute parents, have got something to do with that.

      Maybe I should just nip quickly over to the pub and see my fun-sized friend Ruby and my four-legged mate Matilda, her bulldog? I could give her the lipstick I’ve bought her. Not Matilda, Ruby. Dogs don’t wear make-up. But what they do wear is the little ballet tutu I have got for her from ‘Pets Party’ shop. I hope it will go round her waist. She is quite porky in the middle.

      And anyway, even if Rubes was out I could leave the presents with her older brother Alex. Alex the dream boy. Alex with his long limbs and his longish thick chestnut hair. And his two eyes. And his back and front… and everything. And we could chat about performing arts. He’s gone off to Liverpool to do rep there and I could chat about my performance plans. Maybe discuss my Labradad idea.

      Maybe not. I don’t want him to think of me as a bloke with a pipe fetching sticks.

      Yes, I could pop to see Ruby. And whilst I was popping about maybe Alex her very gorgeous brother would pop up and that would be poptastic and I could say, “What a surprise, Alex, I was just popping by to…”

      “Lullah! Lullah, yoo-hoo, it’s me!!!! And the twins!!!”

      Dibdobs. In her Brown Owl uniform, coming towards me. No, not just coming towards me. Skipping towards me.

      The twins were wearing knitted yellow knickerbockers.

      I bet Mr Dobbins (Harold) knitted them at one of his “inner woman” groups. Harold goes to a men’s group and they try to find their hidden feminine side.

      Uuuumph. As I have said before, I am sure Dibdobs has got a “hugging” badge. She’s got badges for everything else, moth conservation, vole watching, pond life, etc.

      She almost crushed me to death with her bosom and her badges. And her new whistle.

      I couldn’t actually see anything when she was hugging me, but I could feel hugging going on around my knee area as well.

      That would be the twins, Max and Sam.

      They love my knees.

      Probably because that is as far up as their toddler arms can hug.

      I don’t get a lot of hugging at home.

      My little brother Connor likes kicking mostly. I hugged him when I left and he said, “Don’t be so gay”. Grandma does a lot of patting. But quite often she’s off target with that and thinks she is patting me when actually it’s the cushion next to me.

      Dibdobs was talking really loudly and quickly like she does. She’s so keen on everything.

      It’s nice really. Just odd.

      “Oh, Lullah, it’s sooooooo lovely to have you back. I’ve missed you. We’ve all missed you. Haven’t we, boys?”

      The boys stood there blinking from underneath their pudding basin haircuts.

      And sucking their dodies.

      They don’t get any less odd.

      Dibdobs said, “The boys have made something for you. Haven’t you, boys?”

      She adores the twins, she thinks they are covering up their cleverness. She thinks they are like tiny little brain surgeons in tiny twits clothing.

      Max and Sam blinked at me. And kept on sucking.

      Then Max (or Sam) took his dodie out and said, “Sjuuuuge one for ooo.”

      I said, “Oh, well, that’s nice I…”

      Dibdobs said, “Tell Lullah what you’ve made for her.”

      Sam said, “Sjuuuuge.”

      Dibdobs started slightly losing her rag. “Yes, yes, it is quite big… but TELL Lullah what it is.”

      Sam blinked and looked a bit cross, like he had suddenly realised he had a Brown Owl for a mother. He put his hands on his hips and stamped his foot and said, “SJJJJUUUUGEEE.”

      And Max shouted, “BOGIES!!!!”

      Dibdobs went even redder.

      She bent down so she could look them both in the eyes and said sternly, “Now, that is a silly, silly word, that big boys don’t say any more.”

      Max and Sam blinked together and smiled. Great Jumping Jehovah, they look like sock animals when they smile.

      Dibdobs took their hands and we all walked back to the house. She was chatting on sixteen to the dozen. But I could still hear Max and Sam softly singing, “Bogie, bogie, bogie, bogie, bogie.”

      Dibdobs said, “Harold is so looking forward to seeing you, he’s out tonight with the interknitting group. After the success of the communal skipping rope, you know, the skipathon when the whole village skipped?”

      Oh yes, I remembered that.

      She was chattering on.

      “Well, he’s got big plans for knitting the village together for Christmas. Won’t that be fun?”

      When we got back to Dandelion Cottage the twins present turned out to be some bits of feather stuck into a potato.

      Max said, “Fevver man for ooo.”

      Lovely.

      Also there was a postcard addressed to me care of the Dobbins. It was from Honey! It just said:

      Dear Tallulah,

      Something WEALLY exciting has happened!!!!

      See you when I get there on Wednesday and tell you all about it!!!

      Honey xxx

      It didn’t really say “weally” on the postcard, but I could hear her voice in my head.

      I wonder what she means?

      Maybe she’s got five boyfriends now?!

      I took my luggage (and “Fevver man”) up into my room while Dibdobs went to make some tea.

      So here I am back in my old squirrel room. Sitting on my wooden bed with the squirrel carved into the bedhead. With my feather potato. I’ve brought back my squirrel slippers; the ones that Dibdobs gave me when I first СКАЧАТЬ