said Raj. Lisa and Dennis smiled at each other. Dennis looked so good as Denise that Raj clearly didn’t suspect a thing. “It is possibly the finest shop of this kind in the whole of England! Now you can get all your postcards to send back home!” Raj picked up a packet of plain white postcards.
“They’re blank, Raj,” said Lisa.
“Yes, you will have to draw some sights of London on these. I stock an unrivalled selection of felt-tipped pens. So you are from France?”
“Yes,” replied Lisa.
“Oui,” added Dennis, tentatively.
“I’ve always wanted to go to France,” said Raj. “It’s in France, isn’t it?”
Lisa and Dennis shared a confused look.
“Well, if there is anything I can do whilst you are in England, Miss… forgive me, what is your name again?” asked Raj.
“De-neeze,” replied Dennis.
“It’s a lovely accent you have, Miss Denise.”
“Merci.”
“What did she say?” asked Raj.
“Thank you,” said Lisa.
“Oh! Merci, merci,” said Raj, delighted at this discovery. “I can speak French now! If there is anything I can do, please let me know. Now, Lisa, before you go, I have some special offers today I would like to tell you about.”
Lisa and Dennis both rolled their eyes. “Nine Kinder eggs for the price of eight.”
“No, thanks,” said Lisa.
“Non, merci,” added Dennis, growing in confidence.
“I have some excellent bags of pickled onion Monster Munch, only slightly out of date. Fifteen bags for the price of thirteen. They are a British delicacy. Your French friend may wish to try them, and take a box home for her loved ones.”
“I’ll just take the Italian Vogue thanks, Raj,” said Lisa as she put her money down on the counter. “Goodbye.”
“Au revoir,” added Dennis.
“Goodbye, ladies, do come back soon.”
They left the shop giddy with excitement, running away as they carried the exceptionally heavy magazine between them. Raj came out of the shop holding a box of crisps and shouted, “You drive a hard bargain, Lisa. I’ll throw in another box of roast beef Monster Munch absolutely free!”
Raj’s voice echoed down the street as Dennis and Lisa ran, breathless with excitement.
11 “These high heels are killing me”
“You did it!” said Lisa, as they sat on a wall to recover their breath.
“He really thought I was a girl!” exclaimed Dennis. “That’s the best fun I’ve had… well ever!”
“Well, let’s go into town then! There should be loads of people there!”
“I’d love to Lisa, but these high heels are killing me!” said Dennis.
“Not easy being a girl, is it?” she said.
“No, I had no idea your shoes were so painful. How do you wear them every day?” He took his shoes off and rubbed his feet. They felt like they’d been put in a vice from the Metalwork room. “Aah, let’s just go back, Lisa. I need to get changed and go and meet John up the park anyway. He’ll be wondering where I am.”
“Oh!” Lisa couldn’t hide her disappointment. “Spoilsport.”
“Morning, Lisa!”
It was Mac, a boy from Lisa’s year. He huffed and puffed his way up the street to join them. Mac was one of the fattest boys in the school, and endured the unwelcome celebrity that went with it. He had been to Raj’s shop as he did every day, and was carrying a bag of goodies.
“Oh, hi,” said Lisa brightly, before whispering to Dennis, “don’t worry, just keep quiet.” She raised her voice and said, “So, Mac, have you got anything nice there?”
Unlike most of the pupils, Lisa called Mac by his name, rather than his nickname, “Big Mac and fries”. Sometimes children pass on cruelty unthinkingly like they would a cold, but Lisa was different.
“Oh it’s just my breakfast, Lisa. A couple of bags of Maltesers, a Toblerone, a Bounty, Jelly Tots, some Skips, seven bags of Monster Munch, Raj was doing a special offer on those, a box of Creme Eggs, and a can of Diet Coke.”
“Diet Coke?” asked Lisa.
“Yeah, I’m trying to lose some weight,” said Mac without irony.
“Well, good luck with that,” said Lisa, almost without irony. “You know it wouldn’t do if we were all thin you know.”
“Maybe not. Who’s your lovely friend then?” he asked with a smile, as he popped a whole Creme Egg in his mouth.
“Oh, this is my French pen-pal, Denise. She’s staying with me for a bit.”
Dennis smiled at Mac uncertainly. Mac stared at him and kept chewing. It was quite a long time before he had demolished enough of the Creme Egg in his mouth to resume speaking. “Bonjour, Denise,” he mumbled through the chocolate.
“Bonjour, Mac,” replied Dennis, praying the conversation wouldn’t continue past the few French words he knew.
“Parlez-vous Anglais?” Mac asked.
“Oui, I mean, yes, a little,” said Dennis awkwardly.
“I had a French pen-pal come to stay once. Hervé was his name. Nice guy. Smelled a bit though. He wouldn’t take a shower so in the end we had to hose him down at the end of the garden.” He was still chewing. “Hervé came into school with me, are you coming in with Lisa tomorrow? I do hope so. I think French girls are gorgeous.” As he said this a little spittle of chocolate egg ran down his chin. Dennis looked at Lisa with panic in his eyes.
“Erm yes, of course Denise is coming in with me tomorrow,” said Lisa.
“I am?” said Dennis, so shocked he nearly lost his lady voice and his French accent all at once.
“Yes, of course you are. We’ll see you tomorrow, Mac.”
“OK girls, au revoir!” said Mac, before he made his way down the street, joyfully swinging his bag of confectionary as he went.
“Oh no!” said Dennis.
“Oh yes!” said Lisa.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Come on, at least think about it. What if you could fool everyone at school? It would be such a laugh, and it would be our little secret.”
“Well, I suppose it would be the most amazing thing,” said Dennis, a smile broadening across his face. “If the teachers, my friends, my brother, if everyone believed I was a girl…”
“Well…?”
“OK, but I’m gonna need some different shoes!”
But little did Dennis know, as he tottered home in his uncomfortable shoes, that he was about to take a tumble…