‘…startled by his furry shorts!’. Louise Rennison

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ “Stop that shrugging!”

      I said to Rosie, “Now shrugging is a capital offence, apparently. Don’t accidentally shake your head, for God’s sake.”

      Outside Slim’s office

      Ten minutes later

      In the waiting room of fear there are Rosie and I and a couple of scaredy first formers playing with their pigtails. Oo-er. Ro Ro said, “Do you remember when the Bummer twins had a pigtail-cutting extravaganza?”

      Ah, the Bummers. Jackie and Alison. They had taken bullying to new heights before they were expelled for shoplifting. There was for instance their famous using of first formers as armchairs. And in a particularly inspired moment they had actually superglued one of the little titches to a bench. In their pigtail campaign they used to snip off bits of first formers’ pigtails as they passed by and then hang them on their havvies like scalps.

      Rosie said, “I wonder what has happened to the Bummers?”

      I said, “Prison with a bit of luck.”

      Two minutes later

      Slim had the scaredy little ones in first. They came out about five minutes later all red and crying and hiccupping. I gave one of them a snot rag and asked, “What did you do?”

      Ginger titch said, “We… we… drew a picture of a vole with a… a… bra on… on the blackboard in… in… blodge.”

      I said, “Well done, girls, keep up the good work; we are relying on you.”

      Rosie slapped them both on their backs, a bit hard actually. I thought their lungs might shoot out. She said, “Goodus workus, smallus idiotus.” And they went off looking really pleased.

      I said, “I like to think they look up to us as examples of womanhood.”

      And Rosie said, “Yes, but what you have to keep in mind is that you are bonkers.”

      Then we heard our beloved leader shout out, “Come.”

      Here we go. A duffing up for something that we quite clearly have not done. Whatever it is.

      Slim was scribbling away at her desk. The chair she must have been sitting on (unless she was levitating) was completely hidden from view by her jelloidness. I wonder if she has a specially reinforced chair? There is probably a specialist circus furniture shop where she gets her requirements. Imagine the size of her bath! Oh nooooo, now I’ve got a nuddy-pants Slim in my head!

      Slim finally looked up.

      What had we done?

      “I am returning these to you.”

      Wow, this was a turn up for the book! And she handed me a bag. It was the bison horns!!! The return of the bison horns! Yesss! The horns brought back especially from Hamburger-a-gogo land for the Ace Gang. I fondled the horns and thought back to when I had first worn them riding a bucking-bronco bar stool in Gaylords while Rawhide played. Let no one say that the Hamburgese have given us no culture besides Elvis. In fact, as I have said many times to those who will listen (i. e., no one), we have a lot to thank our tiny American chums for – mostly things beginning with “h”: hamburgers, hillbillies, howdy doody, er… horns and so on.

      Slim was still rambling on. “Now I like a joke as much as the next person, but there is a time and a place, and wearing bison horns during German is not the place. Ironically, you two are quite bright girls, but you waste your talents on silliness. You won’t get a job as a silly person, you know.”

      I didn’t say “Miss Wilson has” because, as Slim says, there is a time and a place for everything and time waits for nomads, etc.

      I was pleased to have the horns back and it made me think quite kindly about Slim. She isn’t such a bad old huge elephantine thing, really. When we got to her door to go, I did think about pretending to be a hilarious alien like in Doctor Who and saying, “I offer you my mandible in peace.” But then I thought, er, no.

      German

      Herr Kamyer seems to have accidentally come to work dressed as a twit. His trousers are so short they are bordering on the Bermuda shorts area of legwear. And there is never an excuse for wearing a sleeveless jerkin with diamond patterns all over it. Even if you have been brought up on a diet of spangleferkel.

      I stared at him. He was quite literally a sight for sore eyes. If you looked at him, he gave you sore eyes. He can always be relied on to come up trumps in the twit arena. He blinked back at me. “Guten morgen, Georgia and Rosie.”

      We clicked our heels together and said, “Jawohl Kommandant.”

      I sat next to Rosie in our comfy seats on the back row. In some of our lessons we are not allowed to sit together for some mad reason that escapes me. Something to do with attention deficit disorder. I got out my chuddie and settled down on my arms to have a little zizz. But I could feel mad beadies looking at me. I opened my eyes. It was Jas. Just looking at me. Look all you want, Miss Looking at Me Person. She soooo wanted to know why we had been to Duffing Up Headquarters and come back looking so pleased. But she will be the last to know anything about me now.

      Fifteen minutes later

      It is impossible to get a decent sleep in German – you just drift off and the shouting begins. It’s all Achtung! or Schnell! and Raus raus! and more Spangleferkel! Cor blimey. I was awake now, so I might as well do something. I got the horns out. I nudged Rosie awake and said, “Look at my lap.”

      She said, “As I’ve said before, Georgia, you are an attractive girl and everything but I’m just not interested.”

      I said, “No, really look. Take a good look. Drink in the sight. The bison horns are back!” I made up a little dance with the horns on either hand.

      Rosie said, “Sound out the bells of England – the fun days are back!”

      Break

      Yes indeedy, even though I am on the rack of luuurve I have the bison horns to comfort me. As we ambled off to Ace Gang Headquarters behind the fives court I said, “Do you know I can feel it in my waters, the bison horns are a symbol of hope. The fact that Slim gave them back is a sign from Baby Jesus, it is the dawn of a new era.”

      Ellen said, “What, er, do you… er, do you mean that people will be more spiritual and get back to nature and looking after the earth and…”

      Is she mad? I said, “No, what it means is that Masimo will be mine, mine all miney mine mine.”

      I said it to the gang, apart from Jas, who I was ignorez-vousing like billio. She was doing reverse ignorez-vousing by pretending to be interested in what Ellen was saying. I said to the others, “In some ways I am looking forward to the autumn term because of course it means the return of the beret. Imagine the scene: a cold morning at Stalag 14, the grey day stretches ahead filled with lesbian perverts and sadistic ‘teachers’; but then up the hill, past the Foxwood lads СКАЧАТЬ