The Misadventures of Tallulah Casey 3-Book Collection: Withering Tights, A Midsummer Tights Dream and A Taming of the Tights. Louise Rennison

I started with pleading. And saying I would get chucked off the course. And that they would never see my knees again.

      Everyone looked at my knees.

      I sensed they might be crumbling.

      In the end they agreed that they would do the bicycle ballet.

      Now all I have to do is to make up the bicycle ballet.

      I’m going to go and make notes in my performance art notebook.

      The others wanted to know what it’s about.

      Aaah.

      I said, “Well, the idea is that…not everyone is a ballet dancer…but that all life is art…and beauty can be found in the everyday…stuff”

      They still looked a bit puzzled. They weren’t alone.

      Vaisey said, “Will there be singing in it?”

      I said, “Yes, of course.”

      She got interested then.

      “Will I be singing in it?”

      “Oh, yes.”

      “What will I be singing?”

      Honey and Jo and Flossie all said, “Why can’t we sing in it?”

      I said, “You can – you’re all singing in it!”

      Vaisey said, “What are we singing?”

      And I said, “Well…it’s the Sugar Plum Fairy…theme song.”

      We’re going to rehearse in secret every day. But first we have to find some bikes.

      But then fate took a hand in events at Dother Hall.

      

      We were summoned to the hall. There were candles burning and all the blinds were shut. Even though it was a spanking hot day. Then Nessun Dorma began playing, you know, that classical thing they had for the World Cup when even grown men cried.

      The house lights were dimmed and Sidone Beaver came out on to the stage in a veil.

      A full-length veil. She had something in her hands.

      She was moving in a very odd way. Like she had a trolley for her feet.

      Bejesus, she did have a trolley for her feet! She was sort of being drawn along on it to the centre of the stage.

      Then from underneath her veil Sidone spoke.

      “I have here something…that says more than I could ever say in words about one of the finest artistes…it has been my privilege to work with.”

      And Sidone held up a pair of ballet shoes.

      And that is the world-breaking news. Madame Frances has left and we have a new performance art dance tutor arriving today.

      

      Afterwards we were lolling about on the front steps outside, talking about Madame Frances leaving. I said, “Well, it’s sad of course, but look at it this way…Hurrrrahhhhh!!!”

      We had been run run leaping for the best part of a fortnight.

      Vaisey said, “What is she called, the new dance teacher? It was sort of like a James Bond name, wasn’t it?”

      I said, “Well she can’t be any odder than Madame Frances, I mean—”

      At which point an old sports car came hurtling up the drive and stopped in front of us in a shower of gravel. A person dressed entirely in red plastic, with huge goggles leapt out. She took off her goggles and underneath she had another smaller pair.

      She said to us, “Just call me Fox. Blaise Fox.”

      The weird thing is that I immediately liked Ms Fox. She is undeniably insane. We all agreed on that, but she is, well, I don’t know really.

      For our first session with her she walked around looking at us. She had a riding crop in her hand and she said, “I am looking at you and you are looking at me. This is very good. I am looking and I am liking. You are looking and you are thinking, ‘I hope she doesn’t hit me with her crop.’ But that is because I am me and you are you. I am going to show you a film about the work I have done. Don’t be frightened.”