A Midsummer Tights Dream

Well, I will not be saying that sort of thing to him again.

In fact I’m going to make a “normal” list in my performance art notebook.

Topics that a normal person would talk about.

Topics that are not knee-based.

Like theatre.

Yes, yes, I will tell him about the plays I have seen.

Well, actually I haven’t seen any plays.

Books, then. Yes, books.

I could say, “That Dickens writes a lot, doesn’t he?”

Ruby came bursting out of the pub door.

“I saw you through the winder. Ullo ullo. It’s me!!!!! And Matilda!!!!”

Matilda was barking and throwing herself at me, jumping up. Well, sort of. She was just thudding against my calves to be fair. Her bulldoggy face looks like she is doing a turned down squashy smile all the time. Maybe she is.

Ruby was laughing and her pigtails were jiggling about like ears underneath her hat.

She was still yelling, “Ullo ullo!!!”

It was so nice to see her little freckly face and gappy teeth.

She was skipping around me and shouting, “She’s back, she’s back!!! Matilda, show Loobylullah how tha can die for England!”

Matilda stopped leaping and lay on her back with her stumpy bow legs in the air.

Ruby said, “Do your Irish dancing over her. She likes that. Go on. I’ll do the singing. Hiddly diddly diddly. Hiddly diddly diddly.”

As she was bobbing around she said, “You should see the owlets! Shall we go for a wander now? You’ll not believe it, they’ve got right fat. Come on, come on.”

As she went skipping off, I said, “Should you tell your dad where you’re going? Or… or… Alex?”

She shouted back, “He’s not in, he’s forming a heavy metal band in Ormskirk.”

What?

I caught up with her crossing the green.

I said, “Alex has formed a heavy metal band in Ormskirk? But—”

She said, “Not Alex tha barm pot, Alex has gone off t’college. Me dad. You should see him in his band stuff. He’s got these right tight leather trousers. It’s horrible, and sometimes he can’t get them off. Or walk up stairs in them.”

As we went down by the side of the sheep field, I said, “I didn’t even know your dad could play a guitar.”

“Believe me – he can’t – but he can shout bloody loud and he’s got his own Viking helmet. It’s a tribute band.”

I said, “What to? Vikings?”

And she said, “No, it’s a tribute band to pies. They’re called ‘The Iron Pies’.”

I hope I never have to see them.

So no Alex around then.

I sighed.

No Mr Darcy to look at and try out my new boy skills on.

As we walked along I said, “Rubes, do you think my knees have got less nobblier?”

Ruby stopped hopping and looked at them. Then she bent down and knocked my knee with her fist. Quite hard. I said, “Owww.”

She said, “Aye, I think they av a bit.”

Then she looked up at me.

“I tell thee what, that corker rubbing has worked a bit too. Tha looks like you’ve got two walnuts down your jumper. You haven’t, have you?”

We were passing by the back of the Dobbins house, it seemed so familiar to be back here, but so much had changed. I was a woman now with womanly bits. And womanly bits’ holders. In various colours.

Ruby said, “Ay up, what did tha mean in your letter? You know, you said you would tell me abaht Charlie when you saw me.”

Hmmmmm. I felt a bit sad when I thought about Charlie.

Ruby said, “Yes, you thought he thought you were a long lanky twit and that, didn’t you?”

I said, “Er, Ruby. No, I didn’t think he thought I was a long lanky twit, actually. I’m not a long lanky tw—”

At which point I caught my head a glancing blow on a low lying branch.

Ruby tried not to laugh. I rubbed my head as we walked on through the dark woods and crouched a bit.

Ruby said, “Go on then.”

I wasn’t her plaything, I was a sensitive human being. I said, “I think you’re too young… I don’t think you’d understand.”

She said, “Well, I understood about Ben, when you said kissing him were like having a little bat trapped in your mouth.”

She was going on, toddling around in front of me.

“Some boys are so useless at snogging. I don’t know why they don’t practise before they come bothering you. They could practise on… balloons or, or potatoes or a… melon or summat.”

Balloons? There was a whole world of snogging I knew nothing about and Ruby was only eleven.

Actually, it was making me feel sad thinking about Charlie. I’d really liked him. He made me laugh. And I thought he sort of liked me.

We were at the barn by now. I wanted to make sure that Connie had gone off. I said to Rube, “I don’t want my head pecked off by an enormous angry barn owl. It’s not even as though she would peck it off at once and get it over and done with. I saw her eat a mouse head first, bit by bit. Till only its tail was hanging out of her beak.”

Ruby crept off and opened the barn door while I crouched behind a bush.

I noticed Matilda sat down behind me.

Ruby came back skipping and said, “They’re on their own, come in!!!”

I went into the barn and when my eyes adjusted to the dark I could see them. Our owlets!!! Little Ruby and Little Lullah. Our little owlets.

Little owlets? They were HUGE! We spent an hour with the furry freaks. They can flutter about now, although they do crash into the walls. And they swooped down on to our hats. I think they love us and think we are their stupid friends who don’t even know how to fly. Well, maybe I can’t fly but I don’t poo myself all the time. I said to Ruby, “Look they are pooing while they are eating.”

Ruby said, “Ah know, sometimes you can see little mouse claws in the poo pellets.”

It was getting cold and late, so Ruby put them back on their hay pile. I didn’t want to handle them in case I was involved in a poo situation. But they were so sweet and they fluffed their feathers up to make themselves look bigger. And did head swivelling, to show off how far they could swivel. I feel proud of them.

I said to Ruby as we left them, cheeping away in the dark, “Little Lullah looks like me, don’t you think?”

As she pulled her hat down she said, “Don’t make me have to say owt to me dad about you saying an owlet looks like you.”

It was spooky down the dark lane with the noises in the fields and the rain and moaning wind. There were strange rustlings in the trees and a far off hooting.

Ruby huddled into her jacket and threw a stick for Matilda. Matilda looked at the stick as it flew over her head. Then she just went on toddling along. She knows that it’s not a biscuit, so why would she bother to go and get it?

Ruby said, “The Hinchcliffs have had a reight big fight. They smashed the Bottomleys outdoor lavatory when they fell into it.”

I tutted.

Typical.

“What were they fighting about this time? Who was the stupidest?”

Ruby said, “No, Ruben found out that Cain had been laiking around with his girlfriend.”

I tutted again.

Ruby went on.

“Cain made it worse by saying he was only doing Ruben a favour because she was a real mardy bum. And thick.”

Charming.

As we got back to the Dobbins gate Ruby said, “Oh, I forgot, Alex gi’ me a letter for thee but I left it in my room. I’ll gi’ it thee tomorrow.”

I tried not to leap in the air or do Irish dancing. I said, “Oh well. You know I had better… er, walk you to your door because of the… night… er, stuff.”

Ruby rolled her eyes at me.

“Come on then, soft lass.”

We went across the green to The Blind Pig and Ruby ran up the back stairs to her room.

I was hovering around by the door. With a bit of luck, I wouldn’t have to bump into Ted… at which point Ted Barraclough, Ruby’s dad, came out of the front bar.

I couldn’t help noticing he had a Viking helmet on.

And a guitar in his hand.

And was wearing a very tight pair of leather trousers. He was walking with small steps.

His whole big face lit up when he saw me. Oh dear.

“Well, what a lovely surprise – the thespian is back at last. Thank the Lord. Now then. Don’t tell me, let me guess what you are pretending to be this time.”

I said politely, “Hello, Mr Barraclough, I—”

He waved his helmet about.

“No, dun’t tell me, dun’t tell me… Are you a historic figure? I’m thinking the woolly tights. Your rain hat, the slight roll as you walk. Are you Nelson? I’m right, aren’t I?”

I said, “I’m not doing mime I’m just collecting—”

“Ah, the good days are back again. I’ve missed you. I really have. You and your friends, the STUDENTS. Monday, I will once more hear the sound of you cantering to Dither Hall on your imaginary ponies.”

Actually, Vaisey did have an imaginary pony. Black Beauty.

Had he been spying on us?

Ruby came back and handed a letter to me.

“Don’t go daft.”

I took the letter and said to her, “Heeee heee, why should I go daft, it’s only a letter from, you know, a mate to another mate, heeee, I don’t know what you mean.”

She just looked at me and shook her hair.

Then she said to her dad, “How did The Iron Pies rehearsal go?”

He said, “Bloody marvellous. The Iron Pies are going to be the biggest thing this side of Grimbottom. We are quite literally a sound sensation.”

Ruby said, “Oh yeah? How many songs have you got?”

“Well, fust of all, we’ve done some belters for the mums and dads. All with the original pie theme.”

Ruby said, “Like what?”

Mr Barraclough said, “The well-known James Bond themes, For Your Pies Only, Golden Pie, and From Russia With a Pie. Then a bit of a classic for the rockers, Rock Around the Pie. And a few standard Beatles numbers, The Long and Winding Pie, All You Need is Pies, Lucy in the Pie with Diamonds. We’ll be cracking. I’ll have groupies trying to get hold of my pies.”

I didn’t know what to say, and I also didn’t want to think about his pies any more… I was dying to read my letter. So I said I had to go because Dibdobs was waiting for me.

I ran across the green and into Dandelion Cottage. Harold was back from his knitting workshop and I had to do more hugging duties with him. Then I started yawning to give him the idea of beddy-byes, but he said, “Tallulah, before you go up the wooden stairs to Noddsville, let me just show you my new cloak. It’s hand-knitted, and as you can see it has shell buttons.”

As he was swishing around modelling it for me, he said, “You see, the shells show man’s connection with the earth or, in this case, Skegness beach.”

At last I was in my squirrel room. I have my squirrel lamp switched on by my bed and outside the wind is howling across the moors. But I am snug inside with my letter.

My letter from the Dream Boy.

I paused before I opened it.

To drink in its atmosphere of boyness.

Then I sniffed it.

And licked it.

I don’t know why.

I’m turning into Matilda.

Ooooh. I can imagine him writing it. With a quill pen probably. A candle guttering late at night in his room. He is wearing his usual late-night wear – velveteen breeches and flouncy shirt. I don’t know why his shirt is wet as he writes. Maybe he has been for a midnight swim. Or a late night, fully-clothed bath.

To cool his ardour and passions which are running riot.

He looks out of his window over the moonlit dales, thinking of me as he last saw me in late summer. My long dark tresses framing my face. Looking up at him with my green eyes. And as he looks long and deep into my eyes, I feel an urge to raise my bottom eyelids and…

Hang on a minute, I have changed into an owlet!!!

Get a grip, Tallulah!!

I opened the envelope.

Here goes:

Dear Tallulah

Hello Green Eyes, welcome back to Heckmondwhite and the dizzy world of showbiz!

Well done for making it to the new term – personally, I think it was your spectacular Sugar Plum Bikey that did it. I don’t think any of us who were there will forget your skirt catching in the back spokes, and you flying off into the backstage area.

Top.

I am off to Liverpool tonight to start my course but hope to see you in a couple of weeks when I come home. Good luck.

Knock ’em dead, but try not to break a leg! OR ANYONE ELSE’S.

Lots of love

Alex

xxx

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Outside in the dark I can hear an owl hooting. It will be big Connie out there, collecting food for the owlets.

She is holding her own mouse massacre. Ruby says the owlets will start hunting for themselves in a week or two. Having to do their own hunting will be a shock for them. They probably think there is a big owl in the sky that just hands them stuff.

I don’t think you would poo in front of the big owl in the sky. At the same time as eating. Pooing and eating doesn’t seem right to me.

Still, what does make sense in Nature?

Anyway to heck with Nature.

I’m not interested in Nature, I am only interested in Alex.

Alex in his velveteen breeches.

And flouncy shirt.

Alex who said, “Hello Green Eyes.”

And, “Hope to see you in a couple of weeks.”

And who said, “Lots of love.”

And put three kisses.

That Alex.

I am keeping his letter under my pillow.

Night-night dream boy.

Night-night world.

The next day I woke up to the pitter-pattering of light hail on my window. It’s nine o’clock but still so dark it could be night-time. I got out of my snuggly squirrel bed and had a look out of the window. Brrrr. This is the life, minus 50 degrees. There is a slight frost on the window. On the inside. When I rubbed it away I could see that even the sheep are huddling together for warmth.

And they are practically walking jumpers.

I don’t know what to wear. Something cosy but glam. Thick tights and my new short green wool skirt, black top and new leather over-the-knee boots?

And a hat so that the hail can’t take all the bouncy bounce out of my hair.

I don’t want the Tree Sisters to think I have let myself down.

When I was fully togged up, I went downstairs into the kitchen.

Even though it is Antarctic conditions, the Dobbins have left a note to say they have gone out on their Earth Sky walk with the young Christian table tennis team. They were sorry I was missing it. Well, they are on their own there!

I had a crumpet and some honey and milky coffee. The honey is local of course. Harold is obsessed with local produce. I bet he knows the bees by name. And has made them little winter cloaks like his. And is paying their tuition fees to Bee Academy. So they can better themselves and get out of the worker bee trap.

Oooooh, I am so excited my legs are wiggling around for no reason. They are uncontrollable. They might calm down when I shove them in my boots.

It feels great to have proper friends and to be on the brink of being a showbiz legend. Or, well, being on the course.

I know it’s childish but I wanted to dance and sing with pleasure. I only wish I could do either.

I feel soooo lucky to be here.

Anything goes in the crazy world of the-atre dahling. I might be discovered and asked to be Maria in The Sound Of Music in the West End. That would make Alex know I was proper girlfriend material, and not some little girl with nobbly knees.

I can imagine myself in the Swiss Alps actually. In a big flouncy dress dancing with goats. “The hills are alive with the sound of music… lalalala… with songs they have sung for a thousand years…”

I got bundled up in my coat and hat and left the house. I had to walk slightly bent because there was a mini gale blasting across the moors and fields. But at least it had stopped hailing.

The sheep were still huddled together against the wind.

Looking at me.

I shouted to the sheep. “I love you, my little woolly friends.”

They didn’t like it. They didn’t want to be my friends. They wanted to be my unfriends. They shuffled off as a group and tried to get in the hedge. And looked at me from there.

They are very cross-eyed.

Maybe it is so they can see round corners?

That would be handy if there were wolves creeping up behind you.

Hang on, your eyes should go outwards to do that, not inwards so that you just see your own looming nose. How useful would that be?

Anyway, I can’t be bothered about the animal kingdom, I am too busy being in a good mood. I’m going to do run-run-leap to The Sound of Music to keep me warm. Run, run, leap… “The hills are alive with the sound of…”

Oh great balls of fire. Leaning against the gate of the churchyard, like a great dark crow, was him. The Dark Force of Heckmondwhite. The Black Hearted Prince himself. Cain.

Cain Hinchcliff.

He was dressed all in black, a long black coat and black boots. He had his collar turned up against the wind. His hair is longer than when I last saw him. And it looks even blacker. He saw me, so I stopped leaping and started pretending that my boots were falling down. A half-smile crossed his face. Not a nice beamy smile, a dark twisty smile. He pushed his hair back and looked me right in the eyes. His eyes are so black you can’t tell what he is thinking. I know what I am thinking, I am thinking, “Oh, banana skins and bejesus, he’s seen me leaping, and talking to sheep.”

Cain licked his lips like a hungry wolf and said, “Well, well, well… it’s the young Southern lass back.”

Then he ran his eyes up and down my body and said, “Tha’s grown a bit.”

Oh, how bloody well dare he?! How could he see through my coat? Maybe he had x-ray vision. What colour pants had I got on? Oh stop it, of course he couldn’t see through my coat and see my pants. He was just being him. Rude and crude and horrible.

If I had my handbag I would hit him with it. I only had my hat or my mittens and that didn’t seem nearly violent enough.

He was like an animal in trousers.

As the wind plucked at his hair and whipped it round his face, I remembered the last time I had seen him. It was in the barn and he was poking the owlets with a little stick.

All dark, with his dark broody eyes. And his black hair. And his long black eyelashes.

He’s not good like Alex. Good and tall and brown-haired Alex. With his frilly shirt and his eyes and so on… he’s…

He was still just staring at me.

He doesn’t seem to know that staring is rude.

Well, two can play at that game.

I stared back.

And I’m not going to blink either. That will show him.

Then he stopped staring and came towards me and did up-close staring. His face was only about a foot away from mine.

Looking right in my eyes.

He said, “Tha’s got eyes like a wild cat.”

I could out stare him any day.

Any day.

It suddenly started to hail quite heavily. I could hear the pattering and bouncing on my hat. I could see the hailstones on his dark hair, hanging there like handfuls of pearls. He didn’t seem to notice. Just went on staring right into my eyes. Then I felt a hailstone hit my face. It didn’t just ping off, it started slipping slowly down the middle of my forehead. Then it got to my eyebrows and I thought it had gone. But then I felt it start slipping down the side of my nose, like a tear. I went on staring, he was not going to win this staring competition. I could feel the hailstone had just got to my nostril when… still staring at me…

He did this thing.

He stepped right up to me, so I nearly went cross-eyed trying to keep staring and… then he licked his lips and put his tongue out and… and…

And he LICKED off the hailstone.

He was licking my nose. I could feel his hot, soft tongue on my nose.

And he was staring at me while he did it.

What? What?!

This wasn’t right.

This wasn’t even on Cousin Georgia’s snogging scale.

This was just wrong.

Very, very wrong.

Then a girl’s voice behind him shouted, “Oy, Cain. What’s tha doing? I’ve been waiting by the bike shed like tha said for half a bloody hour.”

He was licking my face!

Like I was an ice cream!

I nearly said, “I am not an ice cream! I am a human being!”

He said softly to me, “Tasty.”

Then he took a step back and turned around slowly. Behind him I saw Beverley approaching. Cain turned back to me and smiled his mean smile. Then he chucked his teeth like you do when you say giddy-up to a horsie. As he swished his coat round and walked off up the hill towards the moors I could see that Beverly didn’t look pleased to see me.

She didn’t say, “Gosh, how nice to see you again, Tallulah, on this inclement morning.” She just stood with her arms folded looking at me. Had she seen the licking incident? Even though it was hailing, she only had on a short-sleeved jumper.

She had very big arms. Very big. Her dad had a potato farm so she probably did quite a bit of heavy lifting. Maybe if I said something nice to her, you know like, “Ooooh, your arms are a… good… shape,” she might not hurt me.

Cain kept on walking up the hill while she stood there looking at me.

Cain called back, “Beverley, is tha coming wi’ me or are tha going to stand there gabbing all day?”

Beverley went after him but turned back and said in a loud mean voice, “You and your posh stuck-up mates keep your hands off our lads… or else. Think on.”

I was thinking of something to say when Cain whistled and his big black dog came bounding over the hedge with a rabbit in its mouth. Every time I saw Cain something died. Cain gave the dog a brief pat on its head and said, “Good Dog. You’ve got our supper then.”

Beverley was still chuntering on as she caught up with them. She said to Cain, “You treat that dog better’n than tha treats me.”

Cain said, “Beverley, the dog can fetch sticks, it can catch rabbits… it dun’t moan on. Can you do that? No.”

He was unbelievable.

I was so shocked at the nose-licking incident I was unable to move. As they disappeared off over the brow of the hill, Rubster came running along her pigtails going berserk. Matilda was running alongside her and tried to stop when she saw me but the momentum of her tummy made her go past me and collide with the hedge.

Ruby panted, “Were that Cain with Beverley? Uh-oh, he likes trouble that lad, Beverley’s mum will be on the warpath big time if she finds out.”

I didn’t say anything to Ruby. What was there to say? Cain has just licked my face? I must never think of it again. I must put it out of my mind and think only of my letter from Alex. Alex the Good, who would never lick a girl’s face.

We got to the bus stop just as it came careering round the corner. Hurrah!!!! I was so excited about seeing my chums. The bus juddered to a stop and the door opened and… Jo jumped off! All little and dark and excited. With her dark eyes gleaming. Like a human conker, but with legs and arms. And a head. She hadn’t changed. Still as mad as a hen. A violent hen. She ran and punched Ruby’s arm, and then mine, and then both at the same time. She was yelling, “TALLULAH! THE RUBSTER!”

Vaisey was smoothing her red curls as she came down the steps. She looked at me as she got her rucksack down and smiled a little shy smile. Oh, I had missed that turny up nose and freckles and that roundy waggly bottom (and the other bits in between) I ran over and hugged her to me, and then she hugged me and Ruby going “Oh, Lullah, Lullah and little Ruby!!”

And a tear came out of the corner of her eye. She was saying, “Oh, oh, oh.” And jumping up in little jumps. Jo was running round and round us in circles and Matilda was following her.