A Midsummer Tight's Dream (20 page)

And yesterday, Phil sent Jo a note about his latest idea. He is tunneling out of ordinary school. It sounds like that old film, where prisoners in a camp dig a tunnel so that they can get under the fence and out to freedom.

Jo told us, “He’s dug about two feet already. And he’s only been doing it for two days.”

I said, “How many feet is it to the school fence?”

And she said, “I don’t know. How many feet is there in half a mile?”

So if he keeps going at this rate he’ll be at the fence in about ten years.

I hear a far-off hooting. Probably Connie out hunting. Using the hunter’s moon.

I could go and see my little feathery owlet friends. At least they are always glad to see me. Well, they blink a lot.

When I opened the barn door, Lullah and Ruby started cheeping. Ooooooh, they are so sweet. I am going to give them a big cuddle.

But then I remembered what Bob had said yesterday. It was raining in the dorm and when Bob came to adjust the tarpaulin he was wearing a rain hat.

And I innocently said to him, “Bob, where did you get your rain hat, and do they do them in small sizes because I could get some for the owlets when they start going out hunting.”

It was like I had suggested slavery for owls.

He said, “That is totally uncool. They are wild creatures and should be left to groove as wild creatures.”

I said, “They do groove as wild creatures. I clap when they swivel their heads. I love them.”

Bob was really grumpy about it.

“They are not pets. If they start thinking they are human beings, they can never fit in with the owl community.”

Maybe he’s right, I shouldn’t spoil their owliness. Especially as I’m not going to be here for much longer to look after them. Maybe I should try and be more owly myself?

There, this is good. I am bringing out my inner owl, which has been peeking out for some time. I’ve got my legs tucked up underneath my coat and my hat pulled down and my hair tucked under it. Good, now I will put my hands in my pockets so that my arms look like little wings.

Blimey, it’s hard to keep your balance. The owlets are looking at me and cheeping.

Then I nearly fell off my pretend perch because a boy’s voice said, “I thought I might find you here.”

Oh Jumping Jehosophat and Lawks, it’s Charlie.

I tried to stand up but my legs were caught in my coat and I fell backward.

Charlie loomed over me and he was laughing so much he couldn’t say anything.

Because my hands were trapped in my pockets, I couldn’t even help myself up.

Charlie said, “Lullah, can I, can I, help you up … Are you … were you pretending to be an owl?”

And then he started laughing again.

I managed to get my legs out and I pulled my hat off. I struggled to my feet. With my luck my hair was probably in the exact shape of a bird’s nest. I brushed some of the straw off me and said casually, looking down at my feet, “I was just … just …”

He said, “Being an owl.”

I tried to explain. “Yes—but—Bob said that you can’t be, you know, a person, because they won’t leave you, they’ll think they’re human beings and come in your home and want to go to school and get a decent job and so on.”

Go to school? What was I thinking?

I wasn’t thinking, I was looking down at my feet.

Charlie said, “I called round at your house, but there was no one in, so I thought maybe you would be here. I came to find you, because I wanted to …”

I said quickly, “Talk about stuff, I know, well, it’s all right, I’ve already forgotten about the thing that, you know, you said ‘can’t we forget about it.’ Well, I have, whatever it is.”

Charlie sighed. “Look, I want to say …”

I said, “Oh, you don’t need to. I’ve forgotten about it. Whatever it was.”

I was fiddling with my buttons because, to be honest, I felt like crying. Although I haven’t much experience, it seems to me that there is only one thing worserer than having someone not wanting to kiss you, and that’s for them to explain why they don’t want to kiss you.

Charlie said, “Lullah, will you stop fiddling around with your buttons and look at me? I want to see your eyes.”

I said, “I don’t want to look at you.”

He said, “You won’t look at me?”

I said, “No, I won’t look at you. I don’t want to and I’m not going to.”

He said, “What, never again?”

I said, “No.”

He said, “Are you sure?”

I said, “Yes, I am quite sure, I am never going to look at you again.”

There was a bit of a pause and then his face appeared by my feet. He was lying on the floor and looking up at me.

He said, “Wrong.”

He gave me such a shock, but it was actually the first time I’d felt like laughing for days.

He said, from upside down, “Please talk to me properly, this is not my best angle.”

He got up and I looked at him.

He smiled and said, “That’s the girl.”

Charlie looked really nice. Oh, well. I’d said that once I had done the icicle thing with him, I’d like to be his friend. Like we were before the kissy thing happened. Ah, well.

He said, “Look, you shouldn’t be upset just because I’m an idiot. I won’t be the only idiot boy you meet, believe me. You can practice on me.”

I smiled back at him.

He looked me right in the eyes.

“I will always worship the knees, no matter what anyone else says. Give me a flash to show me you forgive me a bit.”

I pulled my coat up so he could see my knees in the tights.

He went, “Cor.” Then he said, “Look, let me tell you about my girlfriend. We’ve known each other since we were kids. She’s lovely.”

I couldn’t help myself, I said, “Oh, that’s good,” but not in an “Oh, that’s good” way.

He said, “Shhhhh. Let me finish.”

And then he said, “But you’re lovely, too.”

I said, “Huh.”

And he looked at me and said, “And I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was all wrong.”

Oh great, I knew we would get to this bit.

I blurted out. “I told you, it’s not my fault that I don’t know how to kiss properly. I’ve only just learned how to do it. Well, not even now really, but I’ve been practicing on legs and maybe, if I went on to balloons like Ruby said, I …”

Charlie was staring at me.

“You’ve been practicing on legs?”

I nodded.

“Because you thought I didn’t want to kiss you because you were so bad at it?”

I nodded again. And my face felt really hot.

Then he sighed and came over and got hold of me and hugged me to him.

“Oh, Lullah, I’m so sorry. It’s nothing to do with that, you crazy Irish person. I just have to sort things out. I have to see how I feel and then be honest with everyone. I thought about you when I went home. A lot.”

I said, “But you’re with your girlfriend?”

He looked down at his feet.

“She likes me. She’s known me for ages. We got our first bikes together. But, well now, I don’t, I mean I’m here … Look, I feel all mixed up. And I hope you’ll forgive me and will be my friend.”

I looked up at him. He had the dreamiest eyes. I wanted to be an icicle, but I was sort of in a daze like in
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
. Although hopefully I hadn’t suddenly grown a donkey’s head.

I thought I heard a creak somewhere. But then Charlie put both of his hands on the sides of my face. He said, “Lullah, I like everything about you. I like the way you look and your beautiful eyes. You make me laugh, which is bloody nice in a girl. And, by the way, you are a naturally cracking kisser.”

Wow, this was it. A naturally cracking kisser! We have liftoff!!!

I said, “Am I? Really?”

He said, “Yep, really.”

Ooooohhhh.

And I knew he was going to kiss me again.

But then he turned my head down and kissed me on my hair.

He breathed deeply and said, “I have to get back, the dogs will be sent out and I’ll be on hopping punishment until Christmas. Don’t forget me. Be my friend.”

And he went out of the barn door.

Crikey. All right, he hadn’t said, “Be my girlfriend”—he’d said, “Be my friend”—but he had said a lot of other great things. So, hi diddily diddly diddly diddly!!

I was doing a spot of spontaneous Irish dancing in front of the owlets and singing, “I am a cracking kisser begorrah bejesus be—”

A voice behind me from the inky darkness said, “So tha’s a cracking kisser. That’s a turn up for t’books.”

Bloody Cain.

The black crow.

I could see the tip of his cigarette glowing.

I said, “Why are you always lurking around in the dark?”

Cain said, “P’raps I like it. P’raps I see more in the dark.”

I said, “Well, that’s because you’re always hiding from people who hate you.”

He came and stood in front of me.

“Aaah, aye, that’s mebbe true.”

I said huffily, as I made for the barn door, “Well, good evening.”

He looked down and said, “Off you go, Southern lass, back to your pratting around with your posh mates. I only come to say good-bye to the owlets.”

Why did he always turn up like a bad penny everywhere I went?

And see things I didn’t want him to see.

Back again in my squirrel room, looking out of the window. I was thinking about what Charlie had said. He said he liked everything about me. He liked the way I looked. He said I had nice eyes. He said I made him laugh. He said I was … what else?

I’m going to write it down in my Darkly Demanding Damson Diary. Not on the
Daughter of Fang
page. I’m starting an entirely new story. It’s going to be called:

The Girl with the Green Eyes

As she lay in her wooden boudoir, the girl with the green eyes thought back over her evening. She laughed softly as she remembered herself as she used to be. A silly girl, fond of dancing but with legs that alarmed small children and dogs.

But now, since Charles had said, “You are a naturally cracking kisser,” she had changed and grown less silly.

Hmmmmmmmm.

But if I was such a cracking kisser … why didn’t he kiss me?

OK, he kissed my hair, but that’s not the same thing. I don’t remember hair kissing being on Cousin Georgia’s snogging list.

Hmmmmmmmm.

Nice, though.

Anyway, I’m glad we are mates again.

I put my diary away under my pillow. Wait until I tell the Tree Sisters this.

I was all snuggly and warm in my bed and happy. Perhaps something nice might come out of this. Maybe we can save Dother Hall and I can put the bad times behind me. And boys might actually like me and want to kiss me.

As I was drifting into sleep, I could hear gunshots.

What fool was out hunting stuff at this time of night?

Then I sat up.

Cain!

N
EXT DAY WHEN
I was crossing the green to go to Dother Hall, I saw Ruben and Seth sitting on the wall by The Blind Pig. Seth did a wolf whistle when he saw me. Which is unacceptable behavior, so I swished my hair and gave him a dirty look. He winked back at me. Honestly!

Seth shouted, “Ay, tell that big lass, your mate, Flossie, the one who looks like she could flatten some grass. Tell her Seth says how do and tell her I’ll wait for her tomorrow neet at t’back of Dither Hall.”