Withering Tights with Bonus Material

by Louise Rennison

Catheeeeeeee.

  Look out of your windooooow.

  I got up to look out the window toward Grimbottom. That could have been named for Heathcliff. Maybe I’ll read the book Harold gave me, Heathcliff: Saint or Sinner?

  Um. The first chapter is about him being an orphan.

  Well, I’m practically an orphan, but I don’t go round setting dogs on people and shouting. And being mean. In fact, Matilda likes me very much. I am a tall doggie treat to her.

  Boys don’t like me, though. Ooooohhhhh. I can’t concentrate on Heathcliff. I’m too hot and bothered. Where’s the James Bond book that Dad gave me? Here it is.

  Now where did I get to?

  Oh yes. In Jamaica, it’s the bit where Honeychile is so hot and the fans are going round and round in the hotel room. And the waves are crashing against the shore. And so Honeychile took off all her clothes and stood by the window. Yes, this is the good bit.

  Bond went across to her and took a breast in each hand.

  But still she looked away from him out the window.

  “Not now,” she said in a low voice.

  How does that work? Is that what you’re supposed to do? Should I have said “not now” to Ben?

  If I act it out, I might get an idea of what it feels like.

  Although it’s hard to imagine someone putting their hands over my corkers as I haven’t really got any.

  Maybe if I put socks down the front of my jimjams that would be more like corkers. Yes, but then I wouldn’t know what it felt like to have a hand over each one.

  Maybe, if I put the socks on my hands, that would give me more of an idea.

  I’ll use my big thick hiking ones.

  OK.

  Right, I am walking in a sexy way to the window. Phew, I am hot. I am imagining the Caribbean Sea crashing against the shed at the bottom of the garden. James Bond coming over to me. He is putting a hand over each breast. Oooh, the hiking socks are a bit prickly. I am looking away from him out of the window. I am saying, “Not now . . .”

  Oh, dear Virgin Mary and all her cohort, there is someone down there looking up at me!!! I bobbed down beneath the windowsill.

  The light was on in my room.

  Had they seen me fondling myself with hiking socks??

  I stayed absolutely still.

  Perhaps they hadn’t seen anything and were just looking at owls or . . .

  A voice shouted up. “Have you gone all shy now? Why don’t tha come out and play with me?”

  And a girl’s voice farther away said, “You think you’re something.”

  And the boy said, “Correction, love, I KNOW I’m something. I’m Cain Hinchcliff.”

  When I was sure they had gone off I went and shut the window. For about twenty minutes, I lay on my bed. Those Hinchcliffs are not like anyone I’ve ever met before. Cain is wild. Not like a human being, more like an animal in trousers. It’s like he gets pleasure from being bad. He’ll probably make up a song about it, like poor Beverley.

  Just then, something banged against my window.

  Someone was throwing stones against it.

  He was back.

  Bloody Cain.

  Well, I’m just in the mood for the big lairy lug. I’ve got nothing else to lose. He’s seen me in my horsie legs and now, rubbing my corkers with hiking socks. What else can he do to me?

  I went to the window and opened it and shouted down, “Where do you get your kicks . . . casualty?”

  And Charlie said, “Er . . . no. I have come in friendship to worship the knees. Come down.”

  Gadzooks. I looked at myself in the mirror. Oh, what the bejesus could I do about myself?

  Take my pajamas and the socks off, for one thing. I did that and I put my jeans and a T-shirt on. And shook my hair about.

  When I opened the front door, Charlie was slouching against the garden gate. He looked really cool. He’s lovely-looking. And I realized how glad I was to see him again. It had been a bit awkward last time, thinking about why he didn’t come to the cinema. But he must like me as a friend if he has specially come round to see me. So I beamed at him. And he did a megagrin back.

  He said, “You’ve covered the knees and I specially came to see them. Can I just feel one? To get the impression of knee.”

  He was making me laugh.

  I said, “OK. Just a quick feel, though.”

  He said, “Bend your leg up, like you are a horsie standing on one leg.”

  I said, “They told you, didn’t they?”

  He said, “Who? What? Oh yeah, go on then, they did tell me. They’re over by the bus stop wagging about. Show me your horse costume.”

  “No.”

  “Well, describe Sugar Plum Bikey to me then.”

  I was outraged.

  “They have broken the rule of—”

  Charlie said, “The Tree Sisters?”

  “Yes, yes, the Tree Sisters’ rule.”

  Charlie reached down and touched my knee.

  I said, “Ouch.”

  He said, “Whoaaa, that’s better. I can feel myself full of a strange energy. I normally only get it when the headmaster sees me win the six-mile run and he knows that I haven’t been in it.”

  I suddenly felt a bit shy. I don’t know why. I mean, Charlie and I were friends, he’d made that clear, hadn’t he? So I should just be friendly.

  But I’ve never had a boy who was a friend before. What is friendly? Oh, I know.

  “Do you want to see some owl eggs?”

  He looked at me.

  “Do I want to see some owl eggs?? Do I want to see some owl eggs?”

  I was looking at him.

  He was going on. “Who wouldn’t want to see some owl eggs?”

  I said, “Come on, then, they are down here.”

  He said, “Tallulah, the answer to who wouldn’t want to see some owl eggs is . . . me!!!!”

  I said, “Really?”

  And he looked at me.

  “You’re serious, aren’t you, you are genuinely thrilled that you have found some owl eggs?”

  I nodded. I felt really stupid now.

  And he smiled.

  “Come on, then, you crazy-kneed girl.”

  And we set off down the track to find the eggs.

  When we went into the barn, the door creaked back. And in the gloom we could see a glow of whiteness. The eggs were lying there, all white and weird. They looked like they were a bit cracked. I hope Connie hadn’t sat on them too hard. I also hoped she wasn’t around anywhere. It was quite spooky in the barn and a whistling wind blew up from nowhere.

  Charlie said, “Yes, they are definitely eggs.”

  I could hardly see his face in the dark of the barn.

  What a night I had had: Mummers play, corker rubbing, and now Charlie turning up and me bringing him to look at eggs.

  I said, “It’s a bit odd, isn’t it? Me and the knees, and showing you the eggs. I’m sorry I’m so odd and . . . odd.”

  Charlie said, “You’re not odd. . . . You’re great, I think.”

  And he sounded like he meant it.

  I could hardly believe it.

  I’ve never had anyone, well, a boy person, say that to me before.

  I felt like singing my little song. But I know now to resist the call of “Hiddly diddly diddle.”

  Charlie came nearer to me.

  “Lullah, things can be quite, erm . . . complicated in life, can’t they? You know, it’s not just you.”

  Just then there was the most horrible screech, and something swooped low and brushed against my face. I was so shocked, I actually grabbed Charlie. Like in a really crap film.

  Oh, it was so scary. In fact, it was Connie. Come to check on her eggs. I could hear her chuntering and screeching up in the eaves of the barn.

  And suddenly I burst into tears.

  Everything in my body seemed to just dissolve into tears.

  Charlie said, “It’s all right, Lullah, it’s not going to hurt you. It’s just checking on the e
ggs. Come on.” And he got hold of my hand and took me outside.

  He looked so kind and caring in the moonlight, and sort of handsome and brave.

  Like Mr. Darcy.

  Maybe he would pick me up and carry me home. In his breeches.

  And for a second, he just looked at me. Then he put his hand under my chin. And stroked my cheek with his other hand.

  Cheek stroking! Did that come before snogging? Oh my God. Was this my second kiss???

  But he didn’t kiss me. He said, “If I’d known that you were going to the cinema, I might have come. And that would have been stupid.”

  What did that mean?

  And then he looked at his watch and said, “Come on, otherwise I get the usual thrashing from the headmaster, if I’m late.”

  As we walked along, I felt shaky and strange.

  To fill in the gaps I said, “I don’t think you are allowed to beat schoolkids anymore, it’s against the Geneva Convention and European Euro thing.”

  He laughed and said, “Lullah, you’ve not seen our headmaster. I am taller than he is. And I’ve got more legs.”

  More legs?

  When we got to the Dobbinses’ gate, he gave my arm a little squeeze and said, “See you soon.” And he went off into the night.

  I was just going through the gate when he came back again.

  “Lullah, I . . .”

  I didn’t know what to say. I said, “Oh.”

  He said, “Yep.”

  I said, “OK, well, good.”

  And we looked at each other, and then he said, “Night, night.”

  What did that mean?

  I woke up dreaming about Mrs. Rochester cantering around my bedroom and then realized that the horsie legs were draped over the end of my squirrel bed.

  I had my breakfast and sat on the wall, waiting for Ruby to come out of The Blind Pig. I am not keen to go in there after last night and the Mummers play. Already, one of the regular lads in the darts team has passed me by, neighing. Uh-oh, Mr. Barraclough has seen me. He will have a field day.

  He said, “Ay up, I’ll just go get thee an apple, my beauty. Now don’t you poo on my front path.”

  Oh, this is appalling.

  Ruby came skipping out like a whirlwind with Matilda. When she saw me, she started jumping up and down.

  “They’re here, they’re here! The owlets. Hooray! Hooray! Say ‘hooray,’ Matilda. Say ‘hooray,’ like I taught thee at obedience class.”

  Matilda lay on her back and looked up at me with her lovely buggy eyes. She put her legs in the air.

  I said, “Is that hooray?”

  Ruby said, “Aye, she’s so excited, she’s had to have a bit of a lie down.”

  I gave Matilda a big scratch on her tummy and she quivered like a jelly dog.

  Ruby was chatting on. “I’ve called them Ruby and Lullah. Do you like the names? One of them is bigger than the other and it’s got reet long gangly legs, so I thought that one should be thee.”

  I laughed at her, but I’m secretly loving it that she called the owlets after me and her.

  We went down the back way to the barn and opened the door really carefully, shielding ourselves from Connie, in case we needed to.

  Ruby said, “We’ll just peep in and scarper. That was what I did this morning.”

  I yelled, “Yarrooooo!” But nothing happened. So we went over to the corner where the eggs were, but they weren’t eggs anymore, they were living, breathing owlets!!!!

  Oh, I love them.

  Ruby picked one of them up gently and said, “Do you see what I mean about Lullah’s legs?”

  I said, “Yes.”

  I felt a big surge of love for little Lullah. She was cheeping and blind and had gangly legs. I said to Ruby, “I am going to become like a big sister to them and always look out for them, and defend them against . . .”

  Ruby said, “Right big mice?”

  She was grinning through her gap teeth. Then she held little Ruby down for Matilda to sniff. Little Ruby cheeped and Matilda nearly fell over backward, and raced for the door.

  I started laughing, but then I said, “Maybe Matilda has used her dog hearing, and knows that Connie is coming back.”

  Ruby started to say, “Dog hearing? I got in her dog basket once when she was snoozing and she didn’t even—” Then something creaked, and we shoved the owlets back in the nest and legged it for the door.

  As we jogged away from the barn, Ruby said, “Any more lad stuff? Did the lasses track down the Woolfe lads?”

  I said, “Yes, but something funny happened to me when I went home. I was—”

  And I was just about to tell her about the Charlie incident when Ruben came strolling by with his pigs.

  Ruben winked and said, “Ay up, Rube.”

  And she said, “Ay up, Rube.”

  And we both laughed.

  It was water off a duck’s back to Ruben. He said, “Either of you fancy a snog, as I’m doing nowt?”

  Ruby said, “Yeah, that would be great, wouldn’t it, Tallulah?”

  Pardon?

  Ruben said, “Really?”

  And Ruby said, “Oh, look, there’s a pig, can you see it, up there in the sky?”

  As he sloped off, clicking his fingers, she said, “All of the Hinchcliffs have been like that since they were about two.”

  At which point we noticed Cain, sitting on a gate sucking on a piece of grass.

  Ruby said, “What’s he up to?”

  I said quickly, “Why don’t we have a proper run for a bit?”

  Too late. Cain saw us and shouted over, “All right, girls? Going to play with tha dollies? Or have tha got something else to play with?”

  I do officially hate him.

  I turned my back on him and started walking on. I heard a girl’s voice say, “Cain, where’s tha been?”

  Then Ruby said, “Oh my God, this time he’s done it.”

  I looked round and he was snogging a girl. What was news about that?

  I said to Ruby, “That Beverley girl wants her head testing.”

  Ruby said, “It’s not Beverley.”

  And it wasn’t.

  Ruby said, “It’s Seth’s girlfriend.”

  Heathcliff, it’s me

  WHEN I GOT TO Dother Hall, I felt like a month had gone by, so much had happened. It was really only two days since I had seen the girls, but I had been through the wringer of life. I wouldn’t know where to start to tell them everything.

  Was I going to tell them everything?

  As I reached the gates, Vaisey came hurtling out to hug me, her hair shaking and shimmying about. She said, “Lullah, guess what? Phil told me that Jack thinks I’m cute!!!! Cute!!!”

  I said, “Gosh. And goodie. That’s goodie. And spiffing and everything.”

  Vaisey said, “I know, I know. AND Jack is going to be coming here on Friday . . . because . . . The Jones have asked him to be their new drummer!”

  Oh goodie, The Jones will be around on Friday.

  I didn’t have any time to talk to the girls about my news because we had mime with Monty, first thing. He was so excited about it that he came and got us ten minutes early. Hustling us into the small studio, he loosened his bow tie and said, “Today we are going to learn how to express ourselves, but not through voice. Let’s begin. I will go first.”

  He put on a sailor’s hat and started to sway from side to side.

  Then he put a hand over his eye, like he was looking into the distance.

  Then he looked sad.

  Then he looked into the distance again.

  And jumped up and down, looking pleased.

  He fell to his knees, putting his hands in prayer position. Then leapt up again and did a war dance.

  At the end, he said, “So, girls, what happened?”

  Flossie said, “Were you a drunken sailor?”

  Monty looked a bit annoyed.

  We knew it was some sort of sailor because of the hat, but then Flossie said, “Well, we
re you on a cross-Channel ferry in a storm?”

  Monty got exasperated and told us that he was Columbus discovering America.

  I don’t know how we were supposed to know that.

  I said to Vaisey, “Wasn’t Columbus Spanish or something? He should have done a little flamenco dance instead of just the swaying.”

  At that point Ms. Fox came in and said, “Hello, carry on as if I am not here.”

  Then she lay down on the floor.

  Monty said, “Now, ladies, it is your turn. Think yourself into whatever it is you are portraying. Be the thing or person inside.”

  We had to get into groups of three and be at a party. The person who was “being” whatever they were being, had to convey to the other two by their actions what they were “being.”

  I felt strangely calm for once.

  I went and crouched on a chair.

  I was “being” Connie.

  Like Monty had told us, I thought about the “qualities” of owliness. My wise nature. Where my home might be. What I would have for supper. Mouse, I fancied. I began to only really think in hoots. I thought about my bottom being comfortable on a tree. And what I would do if I wanted a pee. I looked around to see how far I could twist my head. And how long I could stare.

  No one came near, although Flossie did offer me a mime cheesy wotsit (I think). Then she and Vaisey went back to pretend conversation and mime snack-eating.

  Eventually I started waving my pretend wing.

  Flossie came up, dabbing at the floor, like I had spilled my pretend drink.

  This was hopeless.

  I caught Vaisey’s eye and raised my lower eyelids slowly. Surely, that would do it.

  It didn’t.

  So then I laid an egg.

  People can be very thick even when offered the best of mimes. Flossie said, “Are you having a poo?”

  Monty said, “I think we will leave it there.”

  Then everyone had to guess what had gone on.

  How on earth could anyone have thought that I was sitting on a space hopper at a party?

  What fool would do that?

  Monty said, “So what was the mime all about? You seemed somehow disturbed and angry. Was there some inner conflict expressed in your performance?”

  I said, “Yes, there was, sir, I was an owl laying an egg and . . .”

  Everyone fell about laughing, literally in Flossie’s case. . . . They were all begging me to do it again.