Jo said, “Well, it’s ‘strong.’”
Sidone said, “Good, good. Jo is strong. How would you show us that, Jo? That ‘strong.’ Show us your ‘strong,’ Jo. Show it! Use the whole space!!!”
And in front of our amazed gaze, Jo started growling.
Sidone encouraged her, “Good, good, I am feeling your strength.”
Jo was feeling her strength as well. She started stomping around with her face all screwed up. And undoing her cardigan and puffing out her chest.
Vaisey whispered to me, “What is she doing?”
I said, “I think she’s being the Hulk.”
Vaisey was next. Alarm bells must have been ringing with Sidone because when Vaisey said “Black Beauty” she said quickly, “Now, Vaisey. We have just had a lot of charging energy from Jo and we need a change of pace. Perhaps you might like to think of prancing rather than galloping?”
Vaisey said, “I was going to do dressage.”
Sidone said, “Excellent. Trot on.”
And Vaisey did her leg holding and crisscrossing.
I could see some of the girls in the audience laughing.
Honey’s dance was waggling her hips from side to side and going, “Mmmmmmmmmmmm, yummy! Mmmmmmmmmmmm, yummy.”
Milly did “cheerful” (mostly very scary smiling), Becka did “lighthearted” (skipping and clapping), and Tilly did “thoughtful” (frowning and skipping).
When it was Flossie’s turn she said her word was “grand” in a Southern drawl and then started quietly going, “Oklahoma . . . Oklahoma . . . Oklahoma . . .”
Then she belted out, “The land we belong to is GRAND! And when I sayyyyyyyy . . . Hiyipppy yayyyyy . . . I’m saying you’re doing fine, Oklahoma . . .” And doing big arm movements and high kicks.
She would have done the whole song if Ms. Beaver hadn’t caught her firmly round the arms. Some people clapped at the end.
Then it was my turn. My brain had frozen over. In terror.
I stood up and my legs felt like jelly, with jelly knees. Sidone looked at me. “Well, Tallulah, what have you chosen?”
Yes, a very good point.
I looked out at the sea of faces. And I stood there. And then for some reason, I remembered my grandparents coming round to our house when I was little and in bed. After a few Guinnesses I would hear the Irish records being put on and then, “Get the bairn up and daaaancing!” And I would be got out of bed and put up on the table in the dining room to dance.
I started singing, “Hiddly diddly diddly.” In an Irish accent. To an Irish tune that nobody has ever heard of, because it doesn’t exist. I started doing Irish dancing, keeping my arms straight by my sides and kicking my legs about whilst hopping on tippy-toes.
I don’t know whether you have ever seen Irish dancing, but you’ve probably never seen it done by someone with eight-foot legs. I struck Sidone a glancing blow with my foot as I turned round.
I like to think it was a showstopper.
In the break we all went to the café to calm down.
Flossie, Vaisey, Jo, and I sat together. Shipwrecked from the Dother ship.
A group of older girls came over. The leader was a slim girl with copper-colored hair and very blue eyes, wearing expensive-looking clothes. She looked about seventeen or eighteen.
She said in a really false Irish accent, “Now would you be an Oirish colleen, to be sure, to be sure?”
She was talking to me.
I said, “Well, yes, half of my family is Irish, and the other—”
Before I could go on any further she said, in a very posh voice, “That was railly fun. Railly fun. Wasn’t it, girls?”
The other two were nodding and looking. And saying, “Ya, raaillly fun. Well done.”
The blue-eyed girl said, “You did railly, railly well. I’m Lavinia, and this is Dav and Anouska. Noos for short.”
The others said, “Yeah, hi.”
Lavinia went on. “You mustn’t feel that you made berks of yourselves.” And she looked directly at me when she said that bit.
Vaisey said, “Are you on the proper course?”
Lavinia laughed, “Yes, it can be hell, but I suppose we must love it! Come and see the performance lunchtime, some of us are doing a work in progress. See you later, begorrah, bejesus.”
After they’d gone, Vaisey said, “She seems very nice, doesn’t she? Good-looking too, isn’t she?”
Flossie was chewing her hair. “Hmmmmm.”
I said, “What does ‘hmmmmm’ mean?”
Flossie said, “She does seem nice, but I wanted to squeeze her head, and my head-squeezing instincts are usually good.”
Out of control yoof
FOR THE REST OF THE MORNING Gudrun took us round for a tour of Dother Hall. We saw the studios for painting, the kiln area, the technical workshop. The backstage dressing rooms. We even went down to the music recording studios. Bob’s office is to one side and Gudrun said, “We can just ‘Bob’ in.”
He didn’t hear us “Bob-ing,” though, because he had heavy metal booming out of his speakers and he was pretending to play a guitar.
I said, “I didn’t know that Mrs. Rochester was musical.”
The others sniggered. Which was quite a nice feeling. After our tour, we were all lying down on the grass when Sidone came across to us. She was wearing an enormous hat and dark glasses.
“Darlings, darlings. Are you having fun? So, so thrilling, isn’t it?”
We mumbled, “Yes.”
She went on. “Now then, all in to the studio theater for the performance lunchtime. It’s a work in progress by some of the seniors called ‘Untitled . . . Now!’ Oh, and by the way, girls, please use the upstairs loos for the rest of the day. There has been an unfortunate blockage situation which Bob is trying to get to the bottom of.”
I didn’t look at the others.
In the studio we were handed slips of paper.
Untitled . . . Now!
Question: What is a woman?
Is it a Woe . . . man?
Is it a Wombman?
How can we re-find our egg-sistence?
A work in progress by Lavinia Pilkington,
Davinia McCloud, and Anouska Pritchard
With thanks to the example of our
inspirational teacher Sidone Beaver
The studio went black and a faint spotlight came up in the center. Lavinia walked into it. She was carrying an apple. She walked right into the center of the light and looked at us meaningfully. She pointed to the apple and said, “Orange.”
And smiled sadly.
Then Dav and Noos came on with scarves all over them and started snaking about chanting, “I saw the snake, I saw the snake, and the snake saw me.”
Lav went off backward and walked back on a minute later, slowly carrying an egg.
The snakes were still giving it their all with the scarves. Lavinia said in a dramatic voice, “We come from eggs, but some of us are eggier than others.”
She looked at the snakes, they looked back, and then they all smiled ironically.
They were still smiling ironically as the light went down very, very slowly.
Sidone started clapping so we joined in. I don’t know why.
Gudrun, who was right at the front, was looking back at us and beaming like she had just seen an elephant reading a poetry book.
Afterward, Lav and Dav and Noos explained what it was about. Lav said, “I think what we were trying to get to is . . . you know, our sort of similar eggness. How women should stick together and support each other.”
One of the snakes (Dav) said, “Yes, the bit where I come on and I’m still being the snake . . . but I am aware of the, of the . . .”
Lavinia said, “Of the egg?”
And Noos nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes, yes, yes, exactly.”
Lavinia interrupted. “Yes, good point, Dav, and in fact one that I was just about to make . . . thanks for that. I wonder if anyone in the audience noticed t
hat I became more egg-shaped during the performance?”
As we went out, I said to Flossie, “Did you notice that Lavinia got more egg-shaped during the performance?”
Flossie said, “No, but then, as Lav said . . . some of us are eggier than others.”
The next day, Sidone announced that our performance project for the summer course is Wuthering Heights. The fifteen of us have to adapt and present an original reworking of it. Sidone said, “Go out and see what the countryside suggests to you.”
Outside in the warm sunshine again, I began to cheer up. My new friends had been nice to me about the hiddly-diddly thing. In fact, Vaisey said, “It was unique.”
And the others nodded.
Jo said, “It was almost in a way . . . so weird that you might be . . . well, known for your weirdness.”
That’s good, isn’t it?
I felt smooth and purry, like a cat in a cream shop. With new friendies and no grown-ups to tell me off. I know that the Dobbinses are officially grown-ups, but their idea of telling you off is to only give you a small bit of cake.
So everything was looking up, apart from having no boys to look at yet. We had the afternoon off for sketching and ideas.
I said, “So, Woolfe Academy is somewhere over there. On the other side of the woods.”
Flossie said, “Maybe we should go in the direction of the sign and see what it suggests to us.”
Milly and Tilly and the rest of the others forged off down by the river, and our little group went in the vague direction of Woolfe Academy.
After two minutes of pretend looking at stuff we were out of sight of Dother Hall and found a comfy tree with soft grass underneath it.
I said, “This soft grass suggests ‘softness’ to me, but also at the same time ‘lying-down-ness.’”
As we lay around the tree, Vaisey had obviously been thinking about Honey and her snogging stories. She said, “How did you get a boy to kiss you the first time? Did you say ‘give us a kiss’?”
Honey lay down on her back and, putting her legs up against the tree, said, “Well, yeth, in a way. I did it with my eyeth. I did eyeth work.”
Eyeth work?
Honey looks at boys she wants to snog. And they can tell from her eyes. She reckons that girls should be the ones who decide stuff.
Flossie said, “Well, that’s all very well for you, you smoothy smooth person, but I’m quite big. I think I frighten boys with my bigness.”
I said, “And your violence.”
Flossie said, “Granted.”
Honey was still being the Love expert. She said, “If you think you are gorgeouth then boyth think tho too.”
That was a novel idea.
Honey said, “You thtart off with thinking about yourthelf in all your glorwee.”
I said, “I don’t think I’ve got a glorwee.”
Vaisey said, “She means in all your glory.”
And she really did mean that. Not in all your glory with all your clothes on, but in all your glory in the er . . . in the buenas noches señor. In the pink pajamas. Or as the French say, dans votre sans pantalons.
She said that we had to love every bit of ourselves and stop criticizing our knees.
We should imagine we are in the buenas noches señor and feel free.
Jo said, “Like in that book where the boys all go native.”
Honey said, “Yeth, thort of, but don’t they eat each other in the end?”
Honey got up slowly. “Say, pwoudly . . . Oooooohhhh, I’m gorgeouth!”
We all sat there.
She said, “Do you want boyfwendth?”
We got up.
She started sidling up to the tree saying to it, “Ooohhh, I’m gorgeouth. I weally, weally am.”
And she was shaking her bosoms at it and waggling her legs about.
She was so confident, it was amazing.
And sort of catching.
Vaisey started waggling her bottom at the tree saying, “Look at my lovely bottom, it’s like a lovely . . . jelly!”
Flossie was shouting, “Why!! You’re beeaauuutiful!!!”
It was very catching.
And I let rip with my legs.
As Jo was sweeping her hair up and down the tree, I was yelling at it, “You know you want the knees!!! Offer yourself to the knees!!!”
Then a voice behind us said, “Quickly, get a bucket of water, it’s a girl fest!”
We all looked round and a shortish boy with a dark brown, floppy fringe and good-looking face was grinning at us. Behind him was another boy, taller, with wavy, dark blond hair. Also grinning.
None of us knew what to say. Perhaps we could pretend we were druids.
Jo eventually said, “Who are you, lurking about . . . er . . . lurking at people, who are . . .”
I said, “. . . who are doing a theatrical workshop.”
The floppy-haired one was Phil and the blond one, Charlie. We told them our names and they leaned against the tree, looking at us. Phil has got a really nice smile, sort of twinkly, with nice teeth.
Then Charlie said to me, “Great kneework, Tallulah, if you don’t mind me saying.”
Crumbs.
Jo, who seemed to have developed the cocky gene suddenly, said to them, “What are you doing here?”
Phil said, “We are on a forced cross-country jog.”
I said, “But you’re not jogging.”
Charlie said, “Well spotted.”
Phil said, “We were on the jog, but we got tired of the jog.”
Charlie went on, “We got tired of the jog just after we came out of the school gates. And thank goodness we did, otherwise we would have missed finding the ‘Tree Sisters Club.’”
Phil said, “I would have never forgiven myself.”
Vaisey said, “We are getting ideas for our Wuthering Heights performance.”
We all nodded and I crossed my legs casually. Charlie smiled at me.
I said, “Yes, we are at the performing arts summer school at Dother Hall. That is what we are at. . . .”
I trailed off because both Phil and Charlie were looking at me.
Phil said, “So, let me get this right, you are all training to be lesbians?”
I said, “I think you mean thespians.”
And Charlie said, “I know what I saw, love.”
And he and Phil laughed.
And funnily enough, we all laughed. It must have looked bloody weird dancing round a tree and trying to get off with it.
We all relaxed then. It was exciting having two captive, real-life boys to talk to. Vaisey asked them about their school, Woolfe Academy. “What do you do there?”
Charlie said, “We get bored and depressed, mostly.”
Phil said, “We’re there because . . . well it’s a small thing, really, there was a bit of . . . an incident at our, er, ‘normal’ school.”
We looked at him.
Phil went on, “You know how it is with boys and homemade fireworks. And science labs that, you know . . . go . . .”
I said, “Go?”
Charlie said, “Up.”
Phil went on, “So the bottom line is that we are at Woolfe Academy to be taught how to become decent citizens.”
Wow.
Flossie said, “Are you, like, ‘out of control yoof’?”
Phil said, “Very like that.”
Vaisey said, “Is it because your parents don’t understand you?”
Charlie said, “No, it’s because our parents understand us very well, and that is why they wanted us to go away.”
Phil was nodding wisely. “Yes, we are here to learn how to become normal young men, and to do that we have to jog everywhere with rucksacks on our backs. That is the key.”
Charlie went on, “Although, to be frank, if the headmaster had his way we would be hopping everywhere. Just to show us what real life is really about. He’s only got one leg.”
Out of the blue, Phil said to Jo, “I liked your hair dance thing. Was that the mag
ic of modern dance?”
Jo frowned. And jabbered on like Jabber the Wok. “Yes. We do dance at college, in fact, hahahahaha, Tallulah has already done Irish dancing. She kneed the headmistress. Onstage. In front of everyone.”
Oh, thank you very much, new, strong, but thickish friend.
Charlie said, “Wow! You kneed the headmistress. Would you mind if I touched the sacred knees?”
What did that mean?
Was he joking?
Or had my knees made a real impact?
At that moment, there was a piercing whistle and the sound of pounding feet in the near distance. A voice yelled, “OK, lads, keep it up! Well run, Miles Senior, just the plowed field, through the copse and home. Keep it up!!”
Phil and Charlie got up and started jogging on the spot.
Phil said, “Time to take our surprise lead at the other end of the copse.”
As they jogged off, Charlie shouted, “Ta-ta, don’t be strangers!”
And they were gone.
Wow.
And phew.
He had everything a dream boy should have
AMBLING TO THE VILLAGE on Thursday with Jo and Flossie and Vaisey—Honey has a singing lesson so she is off to the music studio—we were, of course, talking about the boys. Phil and Charlie.
Vaisey said, “I thought they were both quite cute. And friendly. And funny. How can we see them again? Should we go and hang around the tree every day?”
Jo said, “Phil was cute, wasn’t he? But he’s a bit short.”
I said, “Jo, you know that saying ‘It’s like the pot calling the kettle black’? Well, you saying that Phil is a bit short, is like a tiny, tiny, black pot calling a tiny kettle black.”
When we reached Heckmondwhite, Flossie and Jo went into the village shop to get emergency supplies to stave off night starvation. Fun-sized Mars bars mainly. And Vaisey and I did hanging-about duties.
As we lolled on the wall, Ruby came out of The Blind Pig. I hadn’t seen her since Sunday and it was nice to see her little face.
She called out, “Nah then!”
What did that mean?
Ruby asked us what we had been doing at college.
I told her, “In a nutshell, I did some Irish knee dancing, Vaisey trotted about pretending to be Black Beauty . . . and then we met some boys from Woolfe Academy, lurking in the undergrowth.”
Withering Tights with Bonus Material Page 5
