Withering Tights

Chapter 14

Dance of the Sugar Plum Bikey

My heart was thumping

My knees were bruised

I think I have sprained my ankle. Certainly I have destroyed a stoat mask made out of corn on the cob and a hula hoop. The bike might be fixable.

It took Bob and a couple of the bigger girls a little while to untangle me from the stage lights. When I eventually hobbled back on stage for the crit there was a big round of applause. And I heard someone yell “Encore”.

But I think they may have been being ironic.

The singing was good, the lights went on and off, the bicycles’ chorus across the back was good, it was all going so well. I think the audience was a little bit surprised by my bike solo when I did a jeté and then the bike did a jeté but…

It was when I came to do my final piece de resistance: the lying on the saddle with my legs outstretched at the back. I was fine, I was balanced and focused. Vaisey’s singing had reached a crescendo and I had my sticks of rock ready when my net skirt caught in the back wheel. And ripped off. Leaving me in my apple catchers.

In the spotlight.

The net skirt also jammed the wheel so the bike suddenly stopped and I plunged over the handlebars and into the backstage area through the blackout curtain.

Gudrun handed me some hessian to cover my knickers. As I hobbled back in front of the audience, all I could think of was that maybe, by the grace of God, Alex had been in a minor car accident.

But then Lavinia hopped up on to the stage and said, “Well, that was soo railly good.” And she glanced over to me, “And railly brave. Well done, you. You may have noticed that we have a tall handsome stranger with us today. Besides you, Bob!”

Bob flicked what was left of his ponytail back. And gave a thumbs up. He truly does think he is handsome.

Lavinia went on. “May I introduce you to the lovely Alex Barraclough. A local boy made good. Alex has starred in West End shows and is now on his way to take up a place at Liverpool Rep. So very exciting. He kindly said he would give us a word or two about today’s performance. So over to Alex.”

Alex stood up and swung himself on to the side of the stage. All of the girls and most of the staff (especially Monty) were practically drooling and flicking their hair.

Alex seemed very relaxed, he was probably used to it.

I pulled the hessian around me more tightly. God, my ankle hurt. I could never ever go round to The Blind Pig again. I didn’t want to listen to what he was about to say. And also I thought I was probably having a heart attack. My heart was thumping, my knees were bruised and Alex had seen me in my knickers.

Vaisey was standing next to me and she squeezed my hand.

Jo mouthed, “You’ve got some rock in your hair.”

Oh goodie.





Alex talked about “exploration” and “pushing boundaries” and not being afraid to fail. He said he’d enjoyed each piece in its own way.

Then as a final thing he said, “It’s always hard to say what you like and why, but I have to say, in all honesty, I have never seen anything like the Sugar Plum Bikey. Never. It was ambitious and daring and…of course, accidents do happen. I once opened a door on stage and the whole set wall fell down. I haven’t actually crashed off a bike head first into the wings. But maybe one day I will be lucky enough.”

Everyone laughed.

I felt a bit better, actually. I think he was trying to make me feel less of an idiot.

He went off to massive applause.

The girls were very nice to me. They said it was a brave effort and everything, but I knew.

We were getting our assessment marks after lunch. I couldn’t eat anything so I sat on the front steps just looking at the moors. I didn’t have what it took. I wasn’t full of Northern grit. I was full of some kind of grit from the stage floor, but it wasn’t the kind I needed.

Blaise Fox came striding down the steps.

Please, please don’t let her say anything horrid.

She said, “Tallulah, that was a triumph. You don’t know how funny you are.”





We got our assessments in little sealed envelopes. So this was it.

We went to our special tree to open them. I was hobbling along at the back.

Vaisey said, “Let’s do it all at once. I’ll count. Ready? One, two, three.”

And we ripped open the envelopes.





Tallulah Casey

Dother Hall

Summer term assessment

Dear Tallulah,

You are clearly an intelligent girl as well as being very tall. You have an unusual presence and on the whole a slightly wild, but pleasing disposition.

However, I regret that so far my staff and I have seen nothing that would suggest to us that you are cut out for an artistic career. As we have tried to emphasise, this is not a career choice for the faint-hearted. In the time that you have left here, we hope that you will charge your glass with courage and show us that you can do something extraordinary.

Sidone

Your overall assessment is 45%





Vaisey, Jo, Honey and Flossie all got over sixty per cent.

Honey and Vaisey were specially mentioned for their singing.

I didn’t want them to see my letter – but they wanted to.

Jo said, “Come on, Lullah, it can’t be that bad.”

I gave it to her and she said, “Blimey, that’s bad.”

Vaisey said, “She says that you’re tall and you have an unusual presence. That’s good, isn’t it?”

And that’s when little tears came splashing out of my eyes.

I didn’t want to cry in front of them. But I was.

Vaisey started crying then as well, when she saw me. She said, “Please don’t, Lullah, I can’t bear it if you cry and are upset. I think you are lovely, I thought you were lovely the minute I met you and you took me to Heckmondwhite High Street which isn’t there. But that is what I love about you.”

Flossie and Jo put their arms around me. Jo looked up at me and said, “I bet you can do something, I just bet you can show them. What about singing a really big belting song that—”

Flossie said quietly, “The singing tutor sort of said that maybe, you know, Lullah should concentrate on other things.”

Jo said, “Oh yes, yes, I remember…”

No one could think of anything else to say. I was just standing in a huddle by our tree with my friends cuddling me. I’ve never been so unhappy and happy at the same time.

Then Honey said, “Thometimeth you’ve got to wait for a happy ending. Evwything workth out awight in the end.”

I said snuffling, “Well…how, how…is this going to work out alright in the end?”

And she said, “I don’t know, it’th a mythtwy, it jutht doth.”

Then Jo said, “I know this is a bit of an odd thing to say, but it might show you that every cloud has a silver lining. When you were crying, I had my head accidentally on your corker area and I think you could even, maybe, get your first bra?”





The Dobbins had all gone out skipping-rope weaving. All in dungarees.

And then the phone rang.

I answered and said, “Hello.”

A very faint voice said, “ Lullah…god morgen!”

It was Mum.

I felt a bit like crying. But before I could say anything, she was off

“How are you? Do you know, I am absolutely loving it here. This is the most marvellous experience. I have a guide called Olaf, who is teaching me everything he knows. And he knows a lot, believe me.”

I tried to stop her before she told me something that I would have in my head forever. People think I exaggerate about my mother, but I don’t. I think it’s why my legs are so long. I’m trying to get away from her. Upwards.

After telling me how like the Vikings the Norwegians are, and how friendly Olaf is, and how clean Norway is, and how very clean Olaf is, she said, “We are off to a sauna, you roll about in the snow naked at the end.”

You see, I knew that would happen, the something I would have in my head forever. To stop her going on, I interrupted quickly and told her about Dother Hall and what I felt like. And the bleeding feet, and how everyone else could sing and tap dance. And had ordinary knees.

And she listened, even though I could hear some sort of digging and howling going on in the background. I hope it was only huskies. Then I told her I was going to keep a summer notebook of love.

“Oooh, that’s a good idea, you could do a sort of comedy performance of it.”

I said, “It isn’t funny.”

She said, “Oh, I assure you, it will be. That’s what you can do, you can look at yourself and make it funny. You’re my star. You’ve always been the star in the family, even when you were little. Anyway darling, you can tell me all about it when you get home. Must dash, Olaf has got the pickled herrings out.”





In the canteen today, Lavinia was sitting with Dav and Noos. They waved when they saw me. I waved back, but then Lavinia did that ‘come over here’ thing. I couldn’t really pretend I hadn’t seen them, so I had to go over.

Lavinia got up and gave me a big hug.

Why?

Have I turned into Huggy Bear since the bicycle ballet?

She was all sympathetic.

“How are you, little Oirish? You weren’t bothered about the marks, were you? It’s all so silly railly, isn’t it? I mean, even if you got ninety and a half per cent, you can’t go up to Andrew Lloyd Webber and say, ‘Andrew, I got ninety and half percent, give me a job, darling’.”

She went on. “I thought what Alex said was railly spot on. You know, you did an experiment. OK, it went a teensy bit wrong, but you had the courage to do it. He was railly right. You know Alex a bit, don’t you Luls?”

Why was she calling me Luls? Where did that come from?

Lavinia was still in Alex world.

“I feel like I have known him for ages, and we have got so much in common, it’s not true. Is he around much?”

Oh, I see.





After lunch we trooped into Monty’s class. It will be quite restful listening to him talk about himself, after what I’ve been through. In fact I feel quite fond of him. Now that I won’t be seeing him again.

He bustled in and said, “Exciting news, girls, our next project. Our next adventure. Takes us back in time. We’re going to do a ‘Mummers play’.”

At first I thought he said a mummy’s play. And that everyone had been talking about me in the staff room.

Jo said, “Sir, what is a mummy’s play?”

He said, “Mummers, dear, Mummers. I’m glad you asked that, Jo, it’s very, very interesting.”

Sadly, we now know that every time Monty says something is “very interesting” it is bound to be a story about him as a young man.

We were right.

Monty said, “I remember well the first Mummers play I was asked to do. It was a warm summer’s evening in Chelsea. I had a lovely flat where I was wont to entertain friends after drama college. A way of us letting off steam. One of my friends, Simeon, was admiring my vegetables.”

I looked at Vaisey and Jo. Where was this going to end?

Monty was still in Chelsea. “Why have roses when you can have fine, firm cauliflowers in your vases?”

Anyway, it turns out that a Mummers play is medieval.

Monty went on. “The ‘Mummers’ would dress up in motley (bits of old rag) with their faces painted blue and take sticks with sheep’s bladders on the end of them to hit people with, and they would travel to local hostelries on a Saturday eve.”

I whispered to Vaisey, “It sounds like The Blind Pig.”

And she giggled and shook her hair about.





All afternoon we practised the Mummers play. It’s mostly fooling around and a bit of olde dialogue. Honey got to swan around singing as the maiden, Jo was St George and belted people with her sword, and Flossie was the dragon. Vaisey was the wandering minstrel and Monty was the narrator. I didn’t have anything to say because I was to be the horse.

Actually, to tell the truth it was spiffing.

We even improvised bits and I pretended to be Black Beauty, which made Vaisey laugh a lot. I seem to have lost a bit of my self-consciousness. I said that to the girls and Flossie said, “That’s because you have no pride left.”

She’s not wrong.

At the end of the day, Monty said, “Now then, girls, I have a marvellous surprise, I thought we would pay a visit to The Blind Pig on Friday. And show them our little entertainment.”

Oh no.

Crumbs.

Crikey.

And also, bejesus.





In Bob’s Dude-mobile on the way to The Blind Pig, I said to Vaisey, “You should be the little horse. Tell Monty, tell him, that you always are the horse. Remind him of your Black Beauty.”

She said, “I can’t now, it’s too late. I’m the wandering minstrel and you don’t want to sing, do you?”

I am someone who has got forty-five per cent for their talents and I am having to go into the lions’ den, The Blind Pig. To give my forty-five per cent in front of a man who pretends I am a big lad. In tights. When Mr Barraclough sees me as a horse, he will be so thrilled.

Well, I am not going to do it.

It’s not just for me.

Matilda would never be able to hold her paws up in public again.

But as if in a horrific slow-motion nightmare, I found myself in the barn at the back of The Blind Pig. In a horse costume.

I tried to canter off down the road, but Dr Lightowler spotted me and gave me one of her looks. So I pretended to eat some grass by the side of the road, as if I was getting into character, like Monty told us. I was pretending to be the horse. I tried to explain that to her, but she just shook her cloak and tutted.

All the Dother Hall staff had come along to support us. Blaise Fox was smoking a cheroot. She clicked her tongue at me and said, “Giddy up.”

When we appeared in the main bar, Mr Barraclough was beside himself with delight.

He was all dressed up and he had put a special bowler hat on the stag.





Oh, it was bad. Worserer than anyone could have imagined. It had seemed good fun in the studio at Dother Hall. All ‘have at thee’ and ‘jokes’ that made no sense – “Hey diddly noddly noo, I will throw thee down the loo.”

All I can say is that people in olden times must have had nothing to do. But no one else seemed to mind like I did. Honey was the maiden and swanned around singing with a lute. She was flirting with the village boys, who were like mothth to a flame.

I said quietly to Vaisey, when I had done my horse dance, “If Alex or Charlie or Phil or even Ben turn up, please shoot me quickly or stab me to death with the stag’s horns.”

It was mostly the village lads watching and laughing. But I don’t mean laughing in an entertained way, I mean in a ‘laughing at me’ way. The Dobbins were at the back of the crowd and the twins just looked and looked at me. Dibdobs clapped each time I did anything, even lean against the bench. And Harold joined in at one point and had an ‘amusing’ fight with Flossie when he snatched her sheep’s bladder and started hitting people with it.

Also, I was hot. My costume had legs hanging from it. And, besides a long tail, I had big ears and a mane.

The whole thing was awful, and I didn’t understand why the rest of the girls thought it was so funny. Jo was bashing the big lads over the head with her inflated sheep’s bladder like there was no tomorrow. She was shouting, “Have at thee, you varlant.” And all sorts.

At last, it was the end and Monty came on as the narrator. There was a spontaneous round of applause. Just for his codpiece.

Monty was bowing and passing round his hat for change when one of the bigger lads grabbed Monty’s codpiece. Oh, I wish I was kidding. And put it on his head like a bonnet.

Monty was delighted.

“Away you go, my boys!!! Play on, play on.”

Then at a signal from Bob, who had been dressed as a jester with a drum, Monty strode into the centre, his tights quite literally bulging with the strain of clinging on to his stomach. He said:

“And now, good friends, forfend,

And alack aday our tale is at an end,

We hope we have in some small way,

Added to this merry day.

I thank you and alas must be away.”





And he bowed and the whole of the back of his tights split.

I had to trot at the back of him until he could escape into the men’s loos.





Afterwards in the barn we were swigging ginger beer and eating crisps. Everyone was all excited and pepped up. Ms Fox came to see us and said, “Well done. Well done. Brilliant interaction with the audience. Excellent use of sheep’s bladders. Very, very good. And Tallulah once again, a masterpiece in how to try and avoid being seen. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. No one could.”

Oh goodie.

Ruby was nagging me to come and see the owl eggs. She said, “I’ve got a feeling about ‘em…I think they’re going to be popping out soon. What do you think we should name them?”

She said this to me, like I was the owlets’ dad and she was the owlets’ mum.

Ruby said, “It’s really exciting, isn’t it?”

I said, “It will be if Connie the killer mum is there.”

Oh, I was so tired.

I tried to keep my end up though, and be cheerful and nice, and join in.

About half an hour later, after a gallon of ginger beer and two tons of crisps we were just coming away from the pub when the Hinchcliff boys swaggered up.

All three of them.

Ruben, Cain and Seth.

It was like a stand-off at the O.K. Corral.

And I was Trigger.

Why, oh, why hadn’t I taken the horse costume off? I tried to tuck the dangly legs out of sight, but I still had a horse’s body and tights on.

The boys just looked at us.

Then Ruben said, “Cor.”

Jo and Vaisey and Honey were looking at them like mesmerised sheep.

And they were the wolves.

Ruby said, “Don’t take any notice of ’em, it only meks ’em worse.”

But I could tell the others were a bit fascinated.

The lads were sort of circling us. Seth and Ruben were dark, like Cain.

Then Seth pinched Honey’s bottom. And she said, “Owch that weally hurt.”

Seth said getting really close to her, “Did it WEALLY hurt, love?”

Then Flossie pinched Seth’s bottom and he leaped about a mile in the air.

He said, “Bloody hell, you’re a strong dragon!”

Ruby said, “Clear off, you lot, otherwise I’m going to tell my dad about that chicken you stole.”

Seth said, “You would an’ all, you—”

But they began to slope off, making kissing noises. As Cain passed me he looked right into my eyes for a minute, just breathing and looking at me. From his dark eyes. And his dark-red mouth. From under his black hair. I felt like I was being drawn into a vortex of blackness. What did he want with me?

Then he said, “Look at state of you.”