Louise Rennison

The Taming Of The Tights


Скачать книгу

tion>

      

       Copyright

      First published in Great Britain in hardback

      by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2013

      HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,

      1 London Bridge Street

      London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins

      HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication

      Copyright © Louise Rennison 2013

      Source ISBN 9780007323920

      Ebook Edition © July 2013 ISBN: 9780007476404

      Version: 2018-07-16

       Dear Eagle-eyed mates,

       Some of you may remember that in ‘A Midsummer Tights Dream’

       I hilariously (in my opinion) mentioned that my mum and sister

       would not let me have the dead rabbit in Cain’s hand wave its

       paw bye-bye to Tallulah.

       I said at the time (and I’m not wrong) that it is a tip-top comedy idea.

       But oh no – my so-called family said it would make me seem ‘childish’ – which clearly I am not. Anyway, I hid this book from them so

       the crying rabbit is in, see here.

       So ha ha ha ha for calling me childish.

       Peace.

       To my Family Tree and my Tree Sisters and Tree Brothers and

       to the various saps – I mean – saplings. Also to the naughty

       Skipton Flossies (Katie and Eve).

       And of course to the Tree Doctors with their Tree pruning,

       Tree mulching and their Tree hugging: Gillie, Lizzie, Tara,

       Elorine, Clare, Cassie (actually officially a sap) and Gillon xxxx

      CONTENTS

       Title Page

       Dedication

      Chapter 1: Filling my tights again

      Chapter 2: Lullah’s Lulu-luuuve List

      Chapter 3: Return of the lunatic twins

       Chapter 6: Boy Ambush

       Chapter 7: You don’t want to do any more winking back

       Chapter 8: The fire escape of desire

       Chapter 9: I’ve eaten snail shells

       Chapter 10: Snogging and Jazzles

       Chapter 11: The magic of puppetry

       Chapter 12: Return of the beast in trousers

       Chapter 13: See you there, cheeky miss

       Chapter 14: My inner snogger

       Chapter 15: Naughty bumberskite

       Chapter 16: The church bells of doom

       Chapter 17: Should I put nail varnish on my hoofs?

       Chapter 18: The Dark Black Crow of Heckmondwhite

       Chapter 19: He’s got the right amount of lip

       Chapter 20: Praise the knees!

       Chapter 21: Fir-cone earrings and knitted onesies

       Chapter 22: The Taming of the Tights

      Extract: The Corker-holding with winter socks scene

      Georgia’s Ace Gang Snogging Scale

       About the Publisher

       CHAPTER 1

       Filling my tights again

      Woo-hoo! And chug-a-lug-a-ding-dong. I’m on the train, chugging back to Dother Hall, the Theatre of Dreams.

      Once more getting ready to fill my performance tights! Chasing the golden slippers of success! Preparing to let my feet bleed if necessary. That’s what Sidone Beaver, our headmistress, says we must do if we want to be stars in the thea-tah, dahlings!!! And this term I’m going to fill my tights as much as is humanly possible!!!!

      Who would have thought that I, me, Tallulah Casey, a gangly Irish person, would be back here for the autumn term at a Performing Arts College in the heart of the famous Dales of Yorkshire? Ooh, I think we’re stopping at Skipley station. I’ll get my case down and hop off.

      Uuuumph. Jumping Jehosophat and his dad, it’s bouncing down. Skipley is famous for its otters. I’m not surprised. If this rain keeps up, I’ll be part otter by Wednesday.

      Skipley is so proud of its otters that the station sign reads Skipley Home of the West Riding Otter.

      But last time I was here some Yorkshire hooligan altered the sign so it read Skipley Home of the West Riding Botty.

      Honestly …

      I am squelching across towards it. That’s where Cain was standing when I left at the end of last term. Cain Hinchcliff. Local bad boy made … er, bad.