Rugby Boys

A Susie and Jeffrey Novel

After some minor skirmishes, Susie and Jeffrey go from Wags to pitches and win a major battle on the playing fields of Heighton.

"Oh, Susie, that will be even worse - I can't be two people at once."

"I'm three steps ahead of you, Jeffrey. It won't matter if you're half-and-half this afternoon, because it's all taken care of by my master plan."

"I don't like the sound of this, Susie, your ideas are liable to have unintended consequences. You always make things more complicated than they need be."

"I've learned my lesson; this is genius in its simplicity," she smirked. "You won't be the odd one out, because I'll be on the pitch rugbying with you."

"What!"

"You heard, Jeffrey - we'll be as peas in a pod."

"Nuts in a fruitcake, more like - our double act will call for an even more convoluted explanation."

Susie and Jeffrey 79 - 94 by Jamie Hayworth

 

 

 

 

Chapter 79

"Whoa there, Jeffrey!" Susie caught me in her arms as I bounced onto the bed beside her. "You're full of beans this morning."

"Enough for a bubble bath," I grinned, and gave the springs another workout.

"Oooh, you've opened my eyes from top to bottom. Are you always this frisky first thing?"

"It's part of the new improved me. I thank you, and my mum thanks you. I could be a mardy little so-and-so before I met you."

"A simple happy girl," Susie smiled.

"The sweetest thing in the whole wide world." I leant forward and kissed her on the cheek.

"I'll remind you of this, the next time we have one of our little contretemps, you soppy beggar."

"Ooh la la!"

"Dance with me, Susie." I jumped off the bed, threw back the duvet, and pulled her to her feet. "Come on - how do you cha-cha-cha?"

"I've no idea, Jeffrey. It's probably one of those primitive dances where you get to grips with each other."

"That's a good start. I'll let you lead, seeing we aren't in any immediate danger."

"You're always the gentleman." Susie drew me to her, and we waltzed around the room. "I'm still amazed at how things have worked out. Do you have difficulty believing six impossible things before breakfast, Jeffrey?"

"Now and again, I have difficulty believing the universe exists."

"Don't go all serious on me; it's too early in the morning for metaphysics."

"It helps put things in perspective, Susie, but if you don't fancy a thoughtful exchange of ideas, I'll settle for feeding each other egg soldiers. You aren't in a hurry to go dashing off somewhere, are you?"

"Why, what time is it?"

"Nine o'clock and not a sausage pricked. Mum woke me just before she left. You can spend the whole day in bed recovering from our adventures if you like."

"That's not me, Jeffrey; I like to be doing. The less you do, the more tired you feel."

"Well, let's not rush into anything; I'll be quite happy playing house with you today. Staying in is the new going out."

"Don't tell me you read that in Cosmopolitan."

"The Financial Times, actually."

"Is this a piece of whimsy, Jeffrey?"

"I was flipping through for the chess column, when I saw it in their lifestyle magazine."

"You're joking."

"No, it comes with the Saturday edition. Money and fashion combined - I thought this would be right up Susie's street. Maybe we should take out a subscription."

"Put it on hold, Jeffrey."

"You can't beat the Pink 'Un for sound advice."

"Not in this case - now isn't the best time to hang around home. We should make ourselves scarce and unavailable for further questioning until the rubble has well and truly settled."

"Having qualms about having got away with it, are you, Susie?"

"There's no harm in exercising a little caution, Jeffrey. Uncle Frank's quite capable of sowing fresh seeds of doubt in dad's head. After a restless night's sleep, his paranoia about me might have resurfaced."

"His home being razed to the ground isn't a delusion."

"But he jumped to the conclusion I was responsible."

"And he's right."

"I just happened to be the last link in the chain - an unwitting instrument of an act of God."

"Exactly how I see it, Susie - let's hope the insurance company thinks the same."

"That aside, Jeffrey, we also have to be careful not to arouse dad's curiosity over our lost week-beginning."

"We can't avoid him for ever, Susie."

"We won't have to; a hard day at the office will flush any new questions from his memory banks. Dad has a one-track mind - it's always worked in my favour."

"You've never demolished a house before; that isn't the sort of thing you forget in a hurry."

"It's the rugby club tonight, and then dad will be preoccupied with the build-up to Sunday's match. He'll be deaf to any further whining from Uncle Frank."

"I'm more worried about your uncle mentioning our sleeping arrangements. Your dad may prick up his ears at that."

"Hardly a topic they're likely to discuss, Jeffrey. And dad never even blinked about me coming over here to stay. He's a simple man; he finds it easy to believe in Denise."

"So do I - we'd better stop dancing." I flopped onto the bed and pulled Susie on top of me. "Going backwards is encouraging ideas of satin and lace."

"We can sneak over and get you my prom dress."

"No, I'm starting the day as I mean to go on." I rolled us over and got to my feet. "If I venture abroad, I'll be wearing boy clothes. I don't want to risk any 'who's-that-girl' situations with the neighbours."

"There's no use anticipating the worst and trying to meet troubles half-way."

"Half-way - if only!"

"I hope you're not implying I'm to blame, Jeffrey."

"Never in a million years, Susie - we've been equally guilty and reckless."

"In my opinion, it's no one's fault, and we haven't been irresponsible - we've just met the wrong kind of people lately."

"There seem to be an awful lot of them about, and if we encounter any on our doorstep, I want to be Jeffrey, wearing trousers and trainers."

"Your lips are still red."

"It's nothing more than a healthy glow. If anyone asks, I'll cough a bit and blame it on a mild case of Pontiac fever."

"They may not be fully convinced by that explanation, Jeffrey."

"Well, a skirt and high-heels won't help my case."

"It's worked up to now."

"Maybe we should try a variation, then."

"If you like."

"Right, you dress as the bimbo, and I'll be plain Jeffrey Smith. People can ogle you and be impressed by what a beautiful girlfriend I've got."

"That's not on; I've an image to preserve - especially with dad. I don't want him thinking I'm an airhead. Mental superiority over Mikey is all I have left to preserve number one sibling status."

"Then we'll stay in; I don't want to upset mum."

"She won't mind."

"She will if I get caught."

"I like going out with Denise."

"So do I, but not today. We aren't the only ones who haven't been downed by the dreaded lurgy. There's a good chance of meeting someone from school; I have to be prepared for that."

"You'll be wearing those jeans, then?" Susie raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Yes ..." I gave her a twirl. "What's wrong with them?"

"They're okay, it's just that they may be too snug a fit around the bum for a Jeffrey."

"They're hipsters - sort of unisex."

"Are they something your mother bought?"

"I told you mum buys all my clothes. I only like shopping for stuff you can take apart and see how it works."

"I don't believe she would have chosen those shoes, Jeffrey."

"They're the exception that proves the rule."

"Are they from B&M or Aldi?"

"Neither - I was looking for mum's birthday present in Itchen's when they caught my eye."

"On the clearance shelf?"

"They were 99.99."

"Never!"

"Reduced to 49.99."

"You wouldn't pay that."

"24.99 in the special red ticket sale."

"You're getting warmer, but I'm still not convinced."

"11.99 with a voucher."

"Maybe."

"5.99 for one hour only."

"No one can say you throw your money away, Jeffrey."

"There's nothing wrong with being thrifty. You wouldn't turn your nose up at a bargain."

"But I'm discriminating - I wouldn't buy cheapo stuff."

"Itchen's is a discount outlet for slight seconds, catalogue returns, and top brands. It's full of designer labels I've never heard of."

"Maybe I'll have a look around there myself."

"You're too late - they've gone bust."

"Denise is still looking back at me," I sighed, and turned away from the mirror. "You wouldn't think the merest trace of lipstick could make such a big difference."

"And your hair - you don't half enjoy swishing it about."

"I'm not having it cut, and I'm not wearing a silly hat."

"You're holding yourself differently as well."

"I'm not doing it on purpose. It's become a reflex reaction - like riding a bike. I need to gradually ease myself out of it before school next week."

"You can be a little more tomboyish every day."

"That's a sensible approach, Susie, too girly Jeffrey will fade with the lipstick."

"Except at nights and weekends."

"Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint you and mum."

"That's very thoughtful of you."

"I know - it's one of the many positive influences Denise has had on me."

"You deserve a reward. Come here, Jeffrey, it's time for some light entertainment."

"How did you know I like to start the day with a crossword puzzle?"

"Are you up for coming out now?"

"I'm weakening. What's it like in a skirt on a bike - is there anything I should know?"

"You'll enjoy it - I promise you."

"I don't suppose there's much chance of anyone recognising me as I flash by. I could wear the wig to be doubly sure - what do you think?"

"It is more than a little glamorous. Don't blame me if riding along looking like a Hollywood starlet attracts undue attention in our little backwater."

"I'll take the risk. There's a guy down the chip shop swears he's Elvis, and nobody pesters him for an autograph. In fact, when they see him coming, they cross to the other side of the road."

"Is he the one who talks like Huckleberry Hound?"

"Don't be cruel, Susie."

"It's true."

"Well, I won't be drawing attention to myself with a dodgy accent. I'm going to speak softly and wear a big wig."

"Then, on your own head be it."

"Maybe I should experiment, and see how it looks in bunches; that's more your girl-next-door."

"Or hide it under a helmet."

"Then it wouldn't be much of a disguise."

"If you had a pink Barbie one ..."

Brrruuurp, brrruuurp ... brrruuurp, brrruuurp.

"Ohhhhh!"

"Don't be so jumpy, Jeffrey, it's only the phone."

Brrruuurp, brrruuurp ... brrruuurp, brrruuurp.

"You get it - I'm caught betwixt and between again. Say nothing until you find out who it is. I don't want a repeat of Monday's fiasco and another hasty exit."

"The odds are it will be someone selling double-glazing or inviting me to join the AA."

"Just be careful."

"I shall limit myself to heavy breathing until all becomes clear."

Brrruuurp, brrruuurp ... brrruuurp, brrruuurp.

"Go on, then, and if it's anyone but our mums, answer all questions with a question."

"Got you, Jeffrey, they'll believe they're engaging in a dialogue with Siscrates herself."

"I wish you'd take a leaf out of his book, and not think that you know what you don't know," I called after her, as she skipped down the stairs.

"Don't inhibit me, Jeffrey."

Brrruuurp, brrruuurp ... brrru ...

Susie picked up the phone - I sat on the top step and waited ...

and waited ...

"Who is it?" I finally hissed. "Say something for goodness sake, and remember - keep it simple."

Susie smiled and gave me the thumbs up. "What's the capital of Iceland?"
...
...
...
..."How does a TV work?"

"I didn't mean play twenty questions," I groaned in frustration, and edged halfway down the stairs. "What's going on?"

"Just a minute." Susie put the phone to her chest and looked up at me. "Nothing untoward - he is who he says he is."

"Why did it take so long, then?"

"I was being extra careful, and it worked - I can vouch for the caller's identity. He's passed the test with flying colours - not one right answer."

"Who is it - Mikey?"

"No - Robbie."

"Is he asking for me?"

"Repeatedly."

"Well, I'm not talking to him."

"It's okay."

"It's not okay. He isn't coming round, is he?"

"No, he's wheezing from his sickbed."

"That's a relief. I wonder how he got my number."

"Why - are you ex-directory?"

"No, but you'd have thought I was safe hidden amongst all the Smiths. What does he want?"

"I don't know. He's insisting on speaking to you, Jeffrey; he says it's a matter of life and death."

"Tell him I'm still asleep."

"He won't settle for that; he's already getting worked up with my stalling. It may be the fever talking, but he's ranting about something being of vital importance to both of you. We'd better find out what it is."

"All right, but we'll do it together."

"Hurry up, then - he's getting the hump."

"Pay close attention," I whispered, when I joined her in the hall, "and come to the rescue if he tries any funny business."

"I'll hang on his every word; he might have something interesting to tell us."

"Only if we listen for an eternity - or suddenly become rugby fanatics."

 

Chapter 80

"Here you are, Jeffrey, it won't bite." Susie passed over the phone, and I reluctantly put it to my ear. "Speak up, or he'll be wondering what's happened."

"Hello, Robbie, Susie's by my side."

"Hhruuuummph, hhruuuummph."

"Anything you say may be taken down and used as evidence against you."

"Hhruuuummph, hhruuuummph."

"What was that?"

"Nothing." I drew Susie in closer and rested the phone between us. "He can't stop coughing."

"He was fine talking to me - just a bit high-pitched."

"Hhruuuummph, hhruuuummph."

"That's not real coughing."

"Yes, it is. I nearly choked. My Lucozade went down the wrong way."

"He's trying for sympathy, Jeffrey. Be on your guard - he may be angling for you to cool his fevered brow."

"What do you want, Robbie? Hurry up, or I'm going."

"Are you okay, Jeffrey?"

"Yes."

"I expected you would be, with you avoiding the showers and everything. I'm glad you're not suffering like I'm suffering. Hhruuuummph, hhruuuummph."

"Will you stop that, or I'm off."

"Don't hang up - I've a lot to tell you, and it's of vital importance."

"Not to me, it isn't."

"Wait until you hear. You're definitely feeling fine."

"Yes, and raring to go. It's nice of you to be concerned, but we're on our way out. I promised mum I'd do the shopping first thing."

"Great, then you'll be free to come round sometime after eleven."

"That's not a good idea; the less excitement you have the better. I don't want to disturb your mid-morning nap. Sleep's a great restorative - get your full sixteen hours."

"I'd like to, Jeffrey, but I can't settle. A little problem has arisen, and only you can fix it."

"I don't like the direction this conversation's taking, Susie."

"Tell him to take a cold shower."

"I wouldn't want it to be my fault if he gets pneumonia. Isn't there some other way of dealing with these things?"

"Let's not go down the phone-sex road, Jeffrey."

"Don't you put ideas like that about me into Jeffrey's head. I'm in serious trouble, and I need his help."

"I thought you said it was a little problem."

"I didn't want to alarm Jeffrey, because it involves him as well. In fact, he is the problem."

"Don't you start that," I warned.

"Just listen - I'm trying to break it to you gently."

"Get a move on, or I'm cutting you off."

"All right, you asked for it - brace yourself. Dad's seen pictures of you in my room - and on my computer - and in my wallet."

"That's you and your photoshopping, Susie," I muttered. "I knew no good would come of it."

"You got that back and tore it into little pieces. Don't blame me if the devious bugger copied it for his own nefarious purposes."

"Is that what you did, Robbie, and passed around pictures of me wearing a bra?"

"No, I wish I had, then I wouldn't be in this fix. Dad would have given me an approving nudge-nudge, wink-wink for getting a girl's top off."

"Chauvinist."

"Belt up, Susie."

"Mind your manners, Robbie, or you'll be talking to yourself."

"I'm sorry, Jeffrey, but I'm in a lather over these photos."

"How can you be if they aren't Susie's effort?"

"They're altogether more risque as far as dad's concerned."

"You're making this up - I haven't posed for you that way - or any other way. What are they - form photographs?"

"Sort of - I took them at school."

"When?"

"When you weren't looking."

"Well, they can't be risque because I've always stuck to the dress code."

"That's part of the trouble - you're sort of wearing boy clothes."

"What do you mean - 'sort of'? All I've ever worn are boy clothes."

"But they don't look boyish on you. With your face and hair, it could be a girl in the winter uniform. That's what dad thought at first."

"It's annoying, but I don't see why it's such a great disaster, because I've never met your dad and I never will. I can live with it - just don't sneak any more photos. If there's nothing else, I'm going."

"Wait, wait! I told dad you were my girlfriend, and he was more than relieved."

"I should be mad, but if you leave me alone in future - starting now - your dad can believe what he likes. I can't say fairer than that."

"I haven't finished - the awkward bit's still to come. Dad's on wife number three, and he thinks I've been a slow starter. So I ..."

"Thanks for the family history, but I'm not interested."

"You will be. He wants to know more about you."

"Make up anything - I'm not bothered. I won't disillusion him because Denise is not coming round to meet the parents - ever!"

"I can't have you just disappear into thin air, not after how things have developed."

"Robbie, tell your dad you've had your way with Denise and chucked her. From what you've said, he's the kind of man who'd understand that a thing of beauty is a joy for a fortnight."

"Just a minute, Susie, there are limits. I didn't mean he could have carte noire with my reputation."

"You've chucked him, then."

"That's better, but his dad will still think I'm easy. Are you listening, Robbie? I don't approve, but if you must - just make it an irrevocable break-up."

"It's not that simple, Jeffrey. Dad had a closer look at one of the pictures, and it put a bit of doubt in his mind about your status."

"Oh, don't I pass?"

"Of course you do. You look very feminine, but there's some evidence to the contrary."

"There can't be. I haven't been seen naked since the great verruca scare in the second year, and that was before your time."

"Not down below -it's from a while ago, when you weren't so well-endowed up top."

"A lot of young girls have flat chests."

"And you're wearing rugger kit."

"Tell your dad, Denise is the team mascot."

"Hang on, Susie, that could be slightly suggestive. I'd rather be a football girl. How about this, Robbie - I'm a star striker for the ladies eleven, and I've been poached by another school, leaving you with a broken heart."

"I'd like to go along with you, honest, but there's another complication - one that isn't so easily explained away."

"Am I holding a rugby ball?"

"No, but I wrote something on one of the pictures ... I wrote ... I wrote ..."

"Oh, get on with it."

"'With love from Jeffrey, your own little hooker X X X' across the bottom - in green ink - just to flesh out my fantasy. Don't be mad, please."

"Did you hear that, Susie?" I spluttered. "I'm speechless."

"Putting things in writing - I ask you."

"I tried to laugh it off as joke - that Jeffrey was really Denise, and I almost got away with it, but ..."

"But what?"

I hesitated over your second name, because I didn't want to give you away.

"But you did."

"I had to. And when dad heard you were a 'Smith', it didn't go down too well. He thinks I made it up to hide something."

"Would you believe it, Susie, now he's trying to blame my name."

"He's completely irresponsible, Jeffrey."

"Then you're the one he should talk to. I'm having nothing more to do with him. Go on, your wildest story can't make it any worse."

"Yes, it can. Keep out of this, Susie."

"Shut up, Robbie, and listen. Obviously, Denise is a sporty girl and she was teasing you about your devotion to rugby. It was just a bit of fun at your expense."

"It's too late for a simple explanation like that; the floodgates have opened. Dad's suspicions had already been aroused by the Thai beauties on my computer."

"Natural curiosity on your behalf - teenage boys are interested in anything in a skirt."

"Some of these weren't wearing skirts - if you know what I mean."

"He's in deep, Jeffrey, and I bet there's a whole lot more unravelling to come - any ideas?"

"We should wash our hands of the whole affair, Susie."

"Have a heart, Jeffrey, I'll never be able to make dad understand. He has issues with ... you know ... thingies."

"I'm sorry, but I can't help."

"Yes, you can. All you have to do is let dad see Denise in the flesh."

"And what if he sees Jeffrey instead?"

"He won't. Just appear looking super girly, because I upped the stakes and told him you were the junior prom queen ..."

"Oh, what next!"

"... and I hinted you'd been more than willing to pleasure the captain of the first fifteen."

"You deliberately sullied my reputation."

"Only a little bit - and it was working like a charm. If it hadn't been for the other stuff, and if dad hadn't remembered about me scrumming down with cousin Claude."

"That wouldn't be unusual for you."

"He was wearing a bunny outfit at the time, Susie."

"Oh, back to you, Jeffrey."

"No thank you - it's between Robbie and his dad."

"And you - when he thought you were my girl, everything was going swimmingly."

"Well, I'm not your girl - you can drown in your lies."

"It'll be so easy for you to throw a lifebelt my way, Jeffrey. Dad really took to you; he put his arm round me and said - 'That's my boy - get in there'. Come over as Denise, and back up my story."

"I don't venture out dressed as Denise."

"Yes, you do."

"It was a temporary aberration; I wasn't myself. I didn't realise I'd been exposed to something that may contain traces of nuts. You'll never see Denise again."

"That's not what Susie said."

"You were a victim of one of her flights of fancy. We're boyfriend and girlfriend - and that's the top and bottom of it."

"Or bottom and top, Jeffrey."

"Exactly, Susie."

"What are you wearing now?"

"Mind your own business."

"If you've just got up, I bet you're wearing a nightie."

"I sleep in my underpants."

"Knickers."

"Careful, Jeffrey, I warned you about phone sex."

"Shut up, Susie, let Jeffrey speak for himself. He knows he owes me a big favour."

"I do not."

"What about a wrecked car?"

"That was your own fault; you behaved like a wild animal on the backseat."

"You led me on."

"I did no such thing."

"And I've lost my eyebrows and all my hair at the front. I look like a clown."

"No, you don't, Coco."

"That's not funny, Susie."

"Everything will grow back, bushier than ever."

"With the stress I'm under, I could end up totally bald. Jeffrey's got to help."

"My coming round won't solve anything, Robbie. It can only get me into trouble, and it isn't really my problem."

"It soon could be."

"Don't you threaten Jeffrey."

"I'm not, but dad won't let it drop. He wants to check out my first conquest for himself. He's determined to give you the once over - one way or another."

"What do you mean - 'one way or another'?"

"He'll be paying Denise Smith a visit."

"You what!"

"I couldn't pretend I didn't know where you lived; it would have really put the cat amongst the pigeons, especially after telling him your name was Smith."

"That is something I want to know - how did you get my address and phone number?"

"I followed you home after school."

"He's been stalking you, Jeffrey."

"No, I haven't; I only wanted to make sure he was safe."

"That won't stand up in court."

"Will you be quiet, I've always had Jeffrey's best interests at heart. That's why I'm warning him about dad."

"You're just trying to frighten Jeffrey. It's not his fault you're a Peeping Tom with a camera. We'll deny all knowledge of your nefarious practices. It's Thai ladyboys', cousin Claude's, and our word against yours."

"That's right - you've got form, and we're honesty personified. We're renowned for it."

"Dad's not a reasonable man, and he has big plans for me. Once he claps eyes on you, he'll have no doubt who led who astray."

"Take no notice, Jeffrey -truth may be blamed, but it cannot be shamed."

"I don't want to be either, Susie - what are we going to do?"

"You could wear your wedding dress and show a slight bump when you open the door to his dad - that may discourage him."

"No, don't, Jeffrey! Dad will go mad if he thinks I've involved him in any more financial commitments. He's having a rocky time at the moment."

"Yes, be sensible, Susie -what would mum say?"

"You're right - pretending to be pregnant may be a step too far for her."

"Keep your dad away from here, Robbie, I don't want him upsetting mum."

"Then you'd better cooperate. Dad's second wife ran off with her interior designer. He'll kick up a hell of a fuss if he finds out you are a 'Jeffrey'; he's not overly sympathetic to your kind."

"Jeffrey's my kind. You're digging a big hole for yourself with both of us."

"I don't mean to, Susie, but it's the truth - dad's the man to hold a grudge. Get to work on turning Jeffrey into Denise, and everything will be fine - I promise."

"Your promises are pie crust."

"Honest, Jeffrey, glam yourself up as Denise, and we're onto a certain winner. You look a bit like dad's first wife, my mum. I think that's what first attracted me to you."

"Bloody hell, Jeffrey, what sort of a complex is that? I wonder if the old Greeks have a word for it?"

"If they did, whoever it was named after would have come to a sticky end. I'm definitely not falling into Robbie's clutches again."

"I'm flat out in bed, as weak as a kitten, you'll be in no danger. All you have to do is show yourself off as Denise for an hour at most."

"I'm always in danger as Denise. I don't see why I should get tangled up in this; you've brought it on yourself. And you're only postponing the inevitable; your dad will find out about you in the end."

"In that case, Jeffrey, I may as well put up your photos on my Facebook page, declare my love for you, and get it over with."

"Peeping Tommery, stalking and now cyberbullying - you should be ashamed of yourself."

"You tell him, Susie. I'm disappointed with you, Robbie, you've plummeted in my estimation."

"I'm sorry, Jeffrey, but I'm desperate, otherwise I'd never consider taking you down with me."

"He's like Samsung in the temple with the head of an ass. Tell him to publish and be damned, Jeffrey."

"Let's not be hasty, Susie, once a thing's on the Internet, you're stuck with it for life."

"That's more like it, Jeffrey, and don't forget, I have looked out for you in the past."

"I am grateful, but ..."

"And I put in a word for you with old Harry."

"Who's that, Jeffrey?"

"Mr Carey, the sports master."

"I was the one who finally persuaded him."

"What do you mean, Robbie?"

"He had a row with Mr Bossom about you; Harry was bent on making you play. I used my influence on your behalf. But for me, you'd be out on that rugby pitch, getting groped every week."

"Well, if it's true ..."

"And I've saved you from the showers - Carey's a cleanliness is next to godliness fanatic."

"You've never mentioned this before."

"I didn't want you to feel beholden to me."

"He's a practiced liar, believe me, Jeffrey."

"I'm captain of the school, Susie - a man of honour - my word is my bond."

"If I do come round, that'll be the end of the matter - you'll find someone else to bother in future."

"Yes, yes, I promise."

"I'll be telling your dad I'm through with you ... for a reason I haven't thought of yet."

"Yes, all right, anything - just get here before twelve - dad will be in until then."

"I'm bringing Susie with me."

"That'll be a bonus. Susie's in some of the pictures, so I told dad she's my girlfriend as well."

"You've a bloody cheek."

"I dropped a big hint that I need a new car so I can keep you both happy. I could let you have a carefully supervised test drive."

"That won't wash, Robbie, I know your game. What did I tell you, Jeffrey - the shifty beggar's trying to bribe me."

"Definitely not to be trusted - I don't know what to do for the best."

"Then I may as well go for broke - it's up to you, Jeffrey. Make up your mind, or we'll be the talk of the school, and dad will be paying you a surprise visit this afternoon."

"I'll have to go, Susie - I can't risk him running into mum."

"Don't worry, Jeffrey," she whispered, and squeezed my hand. "The way we work together, it'll be child's play to put Robbie and his dad in their places."

"I wish I was as confident."

"You will be, with me."

"Have you decided, Jeffrey?"

"All right, I'll come Robbie, but one time only - after this you find yourself a more suitable companion."

"I knew you wouldn't let me down, Denise. Make sure you're showing plenty of flesh up top - you're a Wag now."

"What do you mean a Wag?"

"Well, I am a sports superstar - my girlfriend should have a certain look."

"Like what?"

"Not to put too fine a point on it, the tartier the better."

"I thought I was supposed to remind you of your mother."

"Let's not go into that, Jeffrey - just be hot."

"I have a very limited wardrobe; I can't dress to order."

"Borrow something off Susie - she'll have loads of that sort of stuff."

"I'll swing for him, Jeffrey."

"You show some manners, Robbie, or we might be the ones outing you."

"Sorry, sorry."

"Okay, what's your address?"

"8 Holmefield Close, Thornley."

"Where's that?"

"Near the windmill - get there and then ask."

"Right - is there anything else?"

"If it's no trouble, could you bring me a bunch of bananas with a pack of Mars bars hidden underneath. I've been on a starvation diet."

"A couple of hard-boiled eggs is all you'll get from us."

"Well said, Susie, and that goes double for me, with a jar of pickled gherkins thrown in."

"Bring the Mars bars, please - I'm gagging for them. I've got to go now - dad's on his way. It's best he doesn't know I'm arranging this. I'll see you before twelve, okay."

"Yes."

"Don't let me down - bye."

"Ta-ra." I put down the phone and slumped against the wall. "That was a bolt from the pink, Susie - what do you make of it?"

"Another fine mess, Jeffrey - and this time, it's nothing at all to do with me."

 

Chapter 81

"We'll be meeting more of the wrong kind of people, Susie, and one of them is going to be probing for signs of Jeffrey."

"Robbie's dad won't see through Denise. It's more likely he'll be eyeing her up as wife number four. He sounds the sort of man who'd pinch his son's girlfriend."

"And humiliate his supposed boyfriend. It'll be awful if he meets mum, and makes up some rubbish about me and Robbie."

"She'll believe you, Jeffrey."

"I hope so, Susie; I always tell mum the truth about the really big things."

"Same here - I never lie to dad."

"You what?"

"Not about the really, really big things."

"Such as?"

"I'm talking hypotheticals, Jeffrey."

"It's very much a grey area, is it, Susie?"

"I find it's always best to have a little wriggle room - know what I mean?" she winked, and patted my bottom.

"Yes, it'll have to be skirt and heels again," I sighed, and returned my jeans to their hanger. "I'll wear the wig as well, and mum's sunglasses - just in case we run into anybody I know."

"That'll be very Waggish," Susie grinned. "And old man Davies will be a gentleman who prefers blondes."

"If he showers me with diamonds, I'll pass them on to you."

"Generosity is definitely not one of his characteristics; he's a selfish basket."

"With a limp, a scar down one cheek, and a parrot on his shoulder. You're Shirley Holmes, not Susie Jones."

"You'll see, Jeffrey, and be amazed how I'm able to build up an accurate psychological profile on the scantiest of evidence."

"You should be on the telly."

"You can scoff, but I was dead right about Robbie."

"No, you weren't - he was even more keen on me as Denise. Pinky and Perky were no deterrent. They were an added attraction; he went straight for them."

"That was probably a mixture of curiosity and frustration - no more than a passing interest. He'll be back on the bent and wide now. A busty blonde babe won't tickle his fancy - trust me."

"Well, I wouldn't even consider entering his bedroom without you as a chaperone. What about him humping cousin Claude dressed as a bunny girl?"

"Youthful high jinks."

"Whatever it was, I bet that looms larger in his dad's mind than a few innocent pictures of me in rugby shorts."

"You shouldn't jump to conclusions. We don't know how old they were - and what if it was a real rabbit costume. They might both have been dressed as cute furry animals; that would explain their frolics."

"I suppose so."

"It could have been an innocent game of Bambi and Thumper."

"How do you play that, Susie?"

"I'm not really sure, but I imagine it involves a fair amount of nuzzling and bonking. Disney always sneaks in some surreptitious sex; you just have to know where to look."

"Don't start analysing cartoons - apply your powers to working out the best strategy for our visit. I'll have to strike a delicate balance. A sufficiently desirable female to convince his dad that Robbie's not batting for the opposition, but not a long term asset for his son's career."

"Give it your best shot, and go for the full Wag look. We want his dad to consider you more of a gold digger than a suitable girlfriend. That way, he'll be relieved when it all comes to nothing."

"And to make doubly sure, I'll tell his dad I've come round to say a final goodbye, before we emigrate to Australia."

"Hasn't Denise already done that?"

"Only vaguely, and only for your dad's benefit."

"Even he didn't believe it."

"We've hardly tried to keep up the pretence, have we? Denise won't be visiting Robbie's on a daily basis; she'll never lighten his doorstep again."

"Okay, we'll be saying our last farewells. It's a shame you haven't a ring to give back; that would lend a nice dramatic touch. You could do a tearful little scene about how you'll always remember your first love."

"There you go again, needlessly stirring up a hornet's nest. This will have been a strictly platonic relationship on my part - whatever Robbie's told his dad."

"In that case, I suggest you play up the down under angle; a going away present would add an air of authenticity."

"It'd have to be inexpensive - and ephemeral. Something he won't be holding onto in the hope I'll come back."

"That sounds like a big sloppy kiss to me."

"Rest assured, it definitely won't be that."

"Flowers, then?"

"I'm getting him nothing with nuances."

"They are traditional when visiting the sick."

"No."

"We can take some out of your garden - that'll cost you nothing."

"I never cut flowers; it's against my principles. Take him some of your dandelions."

"We don't want to appear stingy, Jeffrey. Go on, you can spare a few for a special occasion."

"It's too late in the season; there are none left."

"What about those big pink floppy ones?"

"Hydrangeas - I wouldn't give him lowdrangeas - or even Tontos."

"They'll be no loss - they're fading away, soon to be tossed on the compost heap, like your love for him."

"I never had any love for him in the first place. I was merely polite to a six foot plus, muscular giant, who sat directly behind me."

"And you let him copy off you."

"I let anybody copy off me; they only have to ask. It's an easy way to win friends and influence people."

"Promiscuous with your knowledge; that's what you are, Jeffrey."

"And that's all."

"Well, at least give him a last flash of Pinky and Perky. That's the easiest way to convince his dad you're all girl."

"No way, I'm going there fully covered up. I can appear sufficiently feminine without being obvious, can't I, Susie?"

"You certainly can, Jeffrey."

"The problem is what to wear."

"The leather dress is certainly Waggish."

"But modest - and it does give me an extra air of authority."

"A veritable suit of armour - maybe too much so."

"No, I've decided - I just hope it won't be quite as tight, now I've worn it in a bit. That sort of thing can appear provocative without meaning to."

"It shows off your figure, nothing more."

"And I want to get the wear out of it. It'd be a waste to leave it on the hangar, just because it makes my bum look big."

Susie picked up the dress from off the chair. "Come on, let's see you shimmy into it."

"I'll need the satin undies as well; it helps with the slip-sliding over my hips."

"Are you popping in the little extras?"

"I don't want to overdo it."

"A partially empty chest won't help with Robbie's dad. You need them to fill out the dress properly, otherwise it won't look right."

"I suppose so, but I'm not making a habit of it. Pinky and Perky will be getting an inferiority complex."

"Sometimes I think you may be taking anthropomorphism too far."

"I'm compensating for never having had a teddy bear."

"Here you are, then, give these a cuddle."

Susie passed over the forms, and I eased them into position.

"Okay, the boys are back in town."

"Breathe in, and I'll zip you up. There - how's that?"

"I'm all snug at the front. How do I look from behind?"

"More than snug - I'm not sure about this, Jeffrey. A straining, leather clad derriere may overexcite Robbie. Haven't you anything soft and pink?"

"Only lingerie, and it's not suitable for daywear, whatever Marie Claire says."

"Then, on your own bottom be it."

"Robbie's in to pretty boys; he's not going to have a thing about a blonde punk princess. Fix my make-up, Susie, I know what I'm doing."

"Ah, you saved the false eyelashes, Jeffrey."

"You never know when something might come in useful, Susie."

"I think they'll make the perfect finishing touch."

"They would add to the disguise, and make me feel more confident. What do you stick them on with?"

"Glue - have you got any?"

"Only Araldite, and I don't fancy that."

"Porridge is sticky stuff, but it might be a bit messy."

"How about superglue? I bought some rubbish stuff from the pound shop; it never goes anything more than tacky."

"Mikey suffered an unfortunate accident messing with that; he spent a whole weekend with his hand down his trousers."

"I'll exercise great caution, and use the merest dab."

"You may be stuck with them."

"It doesn't matter; there's no school - and the lipstick still hasn't fully come off."

"I know your game; you want to be trapped as Denise."

"I'll be all right for a few days; Jeffrey's not required until Monday."

"You can use it on the nails as well, then."

"What are they made of?"

"Acrylic."

"Oh, that's cruel, Susie, even a crillic is one of God's creatures."

"Spoken like a true Wag, Jeffrey. Entertain yourself with a few more blonde moments while I get dressed."

"I don't want to see you in a trouser suit," I called after her. "Remember you're supposed to be Robbie's girlfriend too."

"We're a pair now, Jeffrey." Susie pulled on the biker jacket over her leather pants. "Cometh the hour, cometh the Wags."

"Very nice, but ..." I paused, and considered our appearance in the hall mirror.

"What's the matter?"

"You don't think this is maybe a little blatant."

"Blatant?"

"Are there such things as leather lesbians?"

"Probably, do you want me to google it?"

"Better not, you might be tempted to borrow a motorbike."

"We have to get there somehow."

"You've done all the driving you're going to do this week - make that this year."

"There's no need to get hot and bothered under your wig, Jeffrey."

"I'm okay, it's one of those breathable ones. It's top quality - did Stephanie say she was claiming for it?"

"Are you hoping she doesn't want it back?"

"I wouldn't mind hanging onto it - just in case I have a future cross-dressing emergency."

"It's certainly come in useful this time; you do look very Waggish. The only thing is ..."

"What?"

"You're right - we shouldn't both be in leather."

"I told you not to wear pants."

"I meant you; your dress covers up too much."

"That's a big plus for me."

"But you don't want to take any chance of sending the wrong message. Robbie's dad has seen a flat-chested photo of you in a rugby shirt; he may be suspicious of such a dramatic transformation without any visible evidence to support it."

"You think I need to show they're really me."

"It'd be more in character; Wags aren't shy of being page-three stunners."

"I'm not going topless."

"And then there's Robbie's gallery of ladyboys fresh in his dad's mind. I think it would be wiser to give Pinky and Perky an airing, so there's no room for doubt."

"Ladyboys have breasts, though."

"But sixth form schoolboys don't."

"I do ... sort of."

"And it'll more than 'sort of' with those forms pushing them up and out of one your mother's dresses."

"I couldn't. I'd feel uncomfortable wearing mum's clothes."

"This is an emergency - first impressions are going to be doubly important in this case. We don't want Robbie's dad to have a moment of doubt about Denise's credentials."

"Well, mum does have a low-cut pink satin dress."

"It sounds perfect."

"She bought it, and straight away put it at the back of the wardrobe. Mum said it was too young and tight for her - among other things."

"Have you been casting your eyes enviously over it, Jeffrey?"

"I've had the occasional glance in its direction. Mum held it up against me once, but that was way before all this started. She said I had the beautiful shoulders for it."

"What are we waiting for?"

"I have toyed with idea I might squeeze into for you. But it is mum's ..."

"You said she's never worn it. Come on."

Susie steered me through the door, along the hall, and into mum's bedroom.

"It's wonderful, Susie," I sighed, and struck another pose in front of the wardrobe mirror.

"Pink's your colour, Jeffrey, you're peachy."

"I am showing an awful lot of flesh; no wonder mum wouldn't wear it."

"Lo and behold, the hills have eyes - almost."

"And they do look real."

"That's because they are."

"Maybe - but as long as they fool Robbie's dad."

"Don't worry, your bare back alone would be proof enough. It's soooo lush," Susie grinned, before nuzzling her way up my neck.

"Oooohhh, sometimes, I think I may be enjoying this too much."

"Really, Jeffrey."

"I don't want to drown in a sea of sensuousness, Susie."

"As long as you can say that without spitting, you're okay."

"What I mean is - we mustn't overindulge. Moderation in everything - that's gran motto."

"Is it all right if we keep on moderating as we have been doing?"

"Absolutely, I don't want to make a fetish of self-denial. Slowly work your way up to my ear again, and then we'll go."

"Shoulders are the new boobs - you'd better borrow one of your mum's coats, or I'll be tempted to dishevel you in public."

"I'm way ahead of you; I'm covering up until we get there." I pulled out a mac from under the stairs. "She never wears this; it's a souvenir from her punk days." I slipped into it and pulled the belt tight. "Is there anything else I should do?"

"Appearancewise, you're fine, but don't go waxing metaphysical. Try to keep your conversation down to earth and mainly about shopping - that's the number one Wag occupation."

"I wouldn't mind having a look around Aldi on the way."

"That's not exactly what I had in mind, but I suppose it's a start."

"No, it'd be foolish, I'd better not."

"Why?"

"It's too close to home."

"Have you ever met anyone you know?"

"Never."

"Well, then."

"There's always a first time, Susie - it's a small world."

"But I wouldn't like to paint it, Jeffrey."

"I did miss their Thursday and Sunday specials," I smiled.

"It was winter bike clothes last week."

"Don't make things up."

"It's true - but maybe it's next week. I always have a look at the website - Lidl's as well."

"I thought you turned your nose up at their stuff."

"I've a lot of Christmas presents to fork out for, Jeffrey, and dad's hardly any help at all. It looks a bit stingy to give people what they're selling in Christmas week, so I'll get it early, put it away, and they'll never know Santa shopped at Aldi."

"You can knit me a jumper or a pair of leggings. I'll be happy with that."

"I don't mind pushing the boat out for you, Jeffrey, and I hope you feel the same."

"I do, but I like to get value for money, and I like practical stuff. My more imaginative efforts aren't really appreciated, except by mum, so now I usually settle on bath salts."

"For everyone?"

"Yes, and I've had no complaints so far - apart from a raised eyebrow or two from Uncle Bob."

"You'll have to do better than that for me, Jeffrey."

"Oh, I will, Susie - how about car accessories?"

"An improvement, but not romantic enough for our first Christmas together."

"Some jewellery from an auction, then?"

"I share your mum's views on tat, Jeffrey."

"Not the house clearance auction, the fine art one - it'll be an investment. You can't go wrong, cutting out the middle-man."

"If you're so keen on bargains, you should go on the Internet."

"If they don't have it in Aldi, I'm happy with Argos."

"You would be."

"What have you bought online, then?"

"Nothing - I'm being frustrated by lack of a credit card. Sixteen years old and I've never had a pin number. How about you?"

"7429 at the library."

"That sort of counts."

"It's 17 x 19 x 23 - three successive primes - fascinating, eh?"

"Uncanny, what were the chances of that?"

"7 in 10,000."

"Enough, Jeffrey."

"I can't help myself. I factorise and analyse all the numbers that come my way."

"Me included?"

"I know my limits. When you get a credit card, I hope you will."

"I'd be safe with a prepaid one like granddad's giving Mikey, the jammy little beggar."

"You have to pay through the nose for the privilege."

"I thought they charged the shops."

"They do both, Susie. You have to pay them for the card, pay them when you put money in, and pay them when you spend it. It all adds up to a big slice of negative interest."

"What a swizz, Jeffrey. Blooming bankers - it seems the whole world's conspiring to keep me a child."

"Yes, terrible, isn't it, Susie, but it has its compensations. We'll have to be content with our own simple pleasures."

"Then, let's start with some shopping - you still need a handbag."

"I may as well complete the set and borrow mum's. Though I'd be happier if I had an excuse to carry my monkey-wrench. I may be in pink, but I feel quite belligerent towards Robbie and his dad."

"It must be your time of the month, Denise."

 

Chapter 82

"I'm not sure this is such a good idea, Susie," I moaned, when we were halfway across the carpark. "I really am getting the jitters."

"Stop chunnering, Jeffrey, it was your choice; you're the one who's the Aldi enthusiast. Keep up, and take off those sunglasses."

"I feel anonymous behind them - do I have to?"

"It's raining - you'll only draw attention to yourself."

"I can't help but." I half lowered the shades and fluttered my eyelashes at Susie. "I'm not dressed like your typical Aldi customer at the moment; I'll stick out like a sore thumb."

"You're not the average store mum, but blondes shop at Aldi - there's nothing unusual about that. And everything else is hidden away under your mum's old mac."

"I thought you said it was a statement coat."

"It is - and it suits your look perfectly - fashionably retro."

"I'd be happier with a hood if I have to take off the glasses."

"Stick them in your hair, and then they'll be ready to drop down in an emergency - not that there's going to be one."

"I wish I could be so sure," I shuddered, as the sliding doors whooshed open.

"You can. There's nothing of Jeffrey Smith showing - apart from your face. But with your 20/10 vision, you'll spot any potential source of embarrassment before they spot you, and be able to take evasive action."

"Okay, you win," I sighed, "but I'm walking behind you." I hung back as Susie stepped over the threshold. "And no monkey business once we're in there. Behave like the Queen does at Harrods."

"You mean help myself to a few free samples."

"Hold on." I put my hand on her shoulder. "You are joking, aren't you."

"I'm as honest as the day is round - how could you think otherwise?"

"Well, you're a militant feminist - ergo an extreme leftist - hence you believe property is theft - therefore supermarkets are fair game for the redistribution of wealth - QED."

"An unbroken chain of prejudice, Jeffrey."

"I know, Susie, what I should really worry about is the fact you're completely bonkers."

"And that it's rubbing off on you - follow me."

"I like Aldi - it's homely." I caught up with Susie, and linked arms when I saw the place was nearly empty. "They have nice girls on the check-outs, and their prices are right - I don't feel I'm being ripped off."

"How about some flowers for Robbie, then?"

"No, I haven't changed my mind."

"They're cheap, and it's not like you're sending him a whopping big bouquet by Interflora."

"You get him some if you're so keen."

Susie picked up a bunch and gave it a shake. "The petals are already falling off."

"Leave them alone - Robbie isn't the sort to appreciate a floral tribute."

"And these will soon be nothing but stalks." Susie dropped them back in the bucket. "There's no point in throwing money away."

"Did I hear you right?"

"Yes, Jeffrey, you're not the only one who can look after the pennies."

"Try and adopt the same attitude towards twenty-pound notes - especially mine."

"I hope you're not going to be too careful a housewife, Denise."

"I'm modelling myself on gran in all things financial; she's a smart shopper."

Susie looked up from checking out the shelves. "There aren't many of any sort in here - is it because it's Wednesday morning?"

"It's never heaving, and that suits me; I always feel overwhelmed in the giant Asda."

"At least, you can recognise all the brands there. Are you sure we haven't stumbled into a parallel universe where America doesn't exist?"

"Advertising doesn't make things taste any better."

"No, but it gives you confidence you won't find a dead frog floating in your can of peaches."

"There's a famous French restaurant - 'The Frog and Peach'."

"I think we'll give it a miss. I'm a bit of a stick-in-the-mud when it comes to food."

"It is an unlikely combination."

"A tin of them would be a bang on present for Robbie from you. Frog and Peach - geddit."

"I'm not risking him having read a fairy-tale where a peach kisses a frog - forget it."

"How about these, then? They look grotesque."

"Sausages in a bottle - I'm definitely not getting him any of those."

Susie moved on to the next offerings. "Pickled herring and salami - is this the sort of thing you buy?"

"They have a lot of German exotics, but I'm never tempted. Put them down and come away."

"They wouldn't be suitable for Robbie; if he has a temperature, hot spicy food won't be good for him."

"You must have been talking to gran," I smiled, and dragged Susie into the next aisle. "Feed a cold and starve a fever."

"It's commonsense, Jeffrey; we should take him a soothing remedy he can suck on. We can stop by the chemist and get a packet of Fisherman's Friend."

"You must be joking."

"They'll help his cough."

"I thought you said he was faking."

"He must have a sore throat, or a tight chest - or something that needs lubricating."

"Well, I'm not getting him any Fisherman's Friend," I huffed. "A double entendre like that could easily be misinterpreted. It'd be like offering to exchange rings, I shouldn't wonder."

"Then, how about his number one request - some of these ersatz mini-Mars bars to replace his lost energy?"

"He'll be better off sticking to Lucozade."

Susie picked up one and squinted at the wrapper. "The ingredients are in foreign hieroglyphics, but he'll have lost his sense of taste, so he'll be none the wiser. What do you think?"

"There's something slightly suggestive about Mars bars."

"And bananas - Robbie likes both - are they part of a secret language?"

"Bananas certainly are as far as Robbie's concerned. I'll never accept another one from him, or anybody else ... except you."

"How about if a boy buys another boy a Mars bar - is it an invitation - a nod's as good as a wink, sort of thing?"

"How should I know? I don't go around buying boys chocolate."

"You'd buy me some, though."

"I'm not really into giving presents; I feel awkward in case I get it wrong. I'll always share my chocolate buttons with you, though."

"You're generous to a fault."

"I wouldn't go that far," I demurred. "Then again, I'm not greedy. I think careful is the best word to describe me."

"Don't be so modest, you've a heart of gold. Big dogs are always licking your hand - you can't fool them."

"They aren't the best judges, and neither are you. But Robbie is ill - I suppose we should get the Mars bars if that's what he really wants," I conceded. "Here." I picked up a whole box and passed it to Susie. "You give them to him, and I'll pay."

"And you take a basket of fruit. You can top it off with a bunch of those bananas - they're real big buggers."

"No way."

"You'll have to get him something; his dad will expect his girlfriend to come bearing gifts."

"I've done my duty; I already have Robbie's present."

"You've kept it well hidden. What is it?"

"You'll see. The very thing came to mind when I went for mum's bag. They would have gone to waste otherwise."

"I wondered what that bulge was - are they maggoty apples from your garden?"

"Those are organic apples, Susie; the sort you pay a premium for in Tesco's."

"Yours may be a shade too organic for their own good, Jeffrey."

"I'm sensitive to the fact we're visiting an invalid, and Robbie might not feel up to picking the worms out, so I've settled on something more wholesome," I smiled, and patted the side of my bag. "These will be a nice surprise, and do him a power of good."

"Let's have a look."

"No, they're specially for Robbie - he's the one in need. You might be tempted to eat them all before we get there."

"I don't think so, Jeffrey. I'm wary of geeks bearing gifts."

"You needn't be; these are gourmet stuff."

"Come on, what they are?"

"Patience, Susie," I smiled. "I promise you won't be disappointed, and neither will Robbie."

"I think kiwi fruit would be appropriate for a rugby player. Mum tries to persuade dad to eat five a day, but he prefers a kebab. He insists on New Zealand lamb, though."

"Kiwis are one of my favourites - you can scoff the lot - no pips or cores to get in the way. And peaches, and pears, but they have to be Comice. It's tricky getting the timing right with them; you have to keep testing with a fingernail. And Sharon fruit, they're nice; they taste just as good when they go rotten - better in fact."

"That's enough fructifying, Jeffrey."

"And strawberries, and ... Ow!"

Susie grabbed my bottom; I took the hint and changed course.

"Special offers coming up, Jeffrey - are your palms itching?"

"No, and we don't have to spend for spending's sake if you think you see a bargain. You fritter money away like water under a bridge."

"I'll wait until I find a better bridge than Aldi."

"Don't be such a snob. One week, they had all ski wear - isn't that something the fashionable young girl about town would swan around in?"

"Only a pretentious one - it's not us."

"I bought two of the bobble hats to keep my ears warm on the bike."

"I'll excuse that on the grounds of practicality."

"Thank you, and in return you can buy what you like from here," I smirked, when I saw the Aldi extras. "It's DIY week - a pneumatic pavement drill, a cement mixer, and a giant axe. Anything take your fancy, Susie?"

"They're funny sorts of impulse buys if you've just popped out for a loaf of bread and a pint of milk. Who's the typical customer they have in mind?"

"Someone seized by a sudden urge to kill their wife and dispose of the body under the cellar floor."

"It's irresponsible selling if you ask me."

"With the potential for a tale of the unexpected."

"I'll bear it in mind if there's a short story competition at school."

"It'd be murder on a budget. Look at this - an 810 watt hammer drill for 12.99 - how do they do it?"

"And all the way from China, too."

"They must only cost a pound at the factory gate. My dad could have got more than that for it as scrap. I wonder ..."

"Not now, Denise," Susie warned, as a pair of customers crossed the aisle. "You have to remember to stay in character; girls don't go shopping and discuss the scrap metal value of power drills. What will people think?"

"I could be a business studies student."

"Not dressed like that."

"What do you mean? This could be a politics, philosophy, and economics outfit. Something a cabinet minister would wear to cow their civil servants."

"You're not in leather now, Denise. You look like a bimbo - which is the whole idea."

"Well, I feel like Bardot, Susie. Otherwise, I would never have got into this outfit. Intellectuals prostrated themselves before her shiny PVC-macked body, and worshipped at her high-heeled feet - so there."

"I thought she was the quintessential sex-kitten."

"That too."

"She retired and devoted her life to cats, or something. Maybe we met her last week, eh, Denise. I'll tell you what - she speaks bloody good English."

"That's because Miss Hackett was an English teacher."

"I prefer my whimsy that she was a French mistress."

"Whatever, I may be starring in 'And Susie Created Woman', but I'm having one of those drills. It'll be a nice little extra for mum's birthday."

"Your mother won't want that."

"How do you know? She could put up some shelves. It'll be an opportunity to use the spirit-level I bought her last Christmas."

"I hope you're joking."

"It was only a stocking-filler; I like to slip in something practical. There's a puncture outfit coming your way."

"Jeffrey!"

"Take my advice, get your uncle a drill for Christmas. It'll be just the thing for when he moves into his new house. It's more imaginative than a toaster, and he'll be reminded of you every time he has to make an emergency repair."

"That may not be the best of ideas. I'll have to give it some careful thought; we can come back later."

"No, they might have all gone - I'm getting them now." I tucked one under each arm, and headed for the checkout. "My hands are full - you pay, Susie, I'll settle up later."

"You're learning too well from me, Denise," she grinned. "Just a minute." Susie paused, and picked up a bunch of drooping flowers from the clearance section. "These look exotic - what are they?"

"Some sort of lilies - I dug up ours - mum says they have the smell of death."

Susie took a cautious sniff. "It's not too bad, and they are marked down to 50 pence. I'll get them for Robbie. It'll be a gracious gesture, and it'll show we don't bear any grudges for the car incident."

"I do - you weren't in the back. He was all over me like a bedspread; a brute like that doesn't deserve flowers for forgiveness," I huffed. "Come on." I dumped the drills on the conveyor belt, put my head down, and followed them along to the till.

"Hello, love, I nearly didn't recognise you, all dressed up like that."

"Who me?" I spluttered, and backed away in confusion.

"Careful, Denise." Susie eased by with her Mars bars and flowers. "Sorry, you must be mistaken - we're together and we're new girls in town."

"You may be," the woman smiled at Susie, "but not this one." She reached out and gave me a friendly pat on the arm. "I'd recognise you anywhere. Whatever's come over you?"

"Are you sure it was me? Everyone has a twin."

"I know my regulars, even though you've hardly looked me in the eye before. You're baked beans, spaghetti, kiwi fruit, paper hankies, hair conditioner ..."

"That was for mum - I'm not too particular about my personal appearance."

"You certainly weren't before. I've only ever seen you in trousers."

"Aaahh ... that must have been my school uniform."

"It was a plain one - are skirts are banned at your school?"

"No, but they're frowned upon in some quarters, and they check the length. Susie and I are nearly always in pants to avoid any unpleasantness."

"Things may change now I'm on the school council. I'm a new wave feminist."

"That's right, and Susie's converted me. I'm dressing to please her today; she's given me a makeover."

"And such a dramatic one - what a blossoming! You were always such a serious little thing."

"Denise is the school swot. This is the first step in her liberation."

"And about time - your mother must be pleased."

"Mum's taking it in her stride, but don't say you've seen me out like this."

"It'll be another little secret I'll keep," she winked. "You'd be surprised the things people tell me. Sometimes I could be a priest in the confessional, sitting here."

"Thanks very much," I stuttered, and tried to change the subject by scooping out one of the pretend Mars bars. "24 of these."

"Oh, what's this! Someone's going to indulge themselves. I don't know how you girls keep your figures eating all that chocolate; it goes straight on my hips - they're my Achilles heel."

"They're for Denise's boyfriend - he's a Mars bar fanatic."

"Oh, you've a boyfriend as well."

"No."

"He's her ex."

"He is not. It was all in his mind; he was seriously deluded. He misinterpreted my willingness to share my knowledge."

"I don't like him either. We're only visiting him as an act of compassion."

"He's ill - these are a not quite last request."

"Mars bars are a strange thing to ask for."

"There's no accounting for taste. Who was the chap whose last words were 'I think I could eat one of Holland's meat pies', Denise?"

"Mahatma Gandhi."

"Really, I had an idea it was Henry VIII - or did he die of a surfeit of palfreys?"

"Whoever it was, I know exactly what you're talking about. I can't resist any kind of chocolate. I've given up trying. I stand in front of a mirror, and I see this fat person looking back at me."

"You want to be careful," Susie warned, "that's a classic symptom of anorexia."

"You could be right - it was worse when I went on a strict diet for a month."

"What did the scales say?"

"They went up."

"You can gain weight through sheer disappointment; that's probably the explanation."

"Well, it's not fair - all I had to show for my sacrifices were thinner feet."

"That's a start, though."

"I am down to a four, but I'm wearing sevens because fours pinch. You can tell a lot from people's shoes." She peered over the side at mine. "They are dainty. I could never manage high-heels like you, lovey, even though I'm sitting down all day."

"Denise has a natural affinity for them; she's very light on her feet."

"I can see that - she walks like she's been wearing them for years. You'll have to tell me how it's done, dear."

"Honestly, I think I'm just a well-balanced individual," I blushed. "Nothing more than that."

"I wouldn't be at all surprised," she smiled, and swept through the two power drills. "And very adaptable - this is just the sort of stuff your previous self bought."

"She knows you know, Susie."

"She doesn't - I can sense these things."

"Well, I can't keep swinging like a pendulum. When we pop in on Sunday to check on those mini-JCBs, I'll have to be Denise."

"She thought you were before."

"I'm not so sure."

"The eye cannot see what the mind does not know."

"I wouldn't want to put that to the test. She must have heard mum call me 'Jeffrey'. Perhaps she was being diplomatic, or it may be part of their customer service - the Germans are very thorough."

"I very much doubt it, Jeffrey, but either way it doesn't matter. Come on, let's drop this stuff off at home."

"Maybe I should have got one of those tool belts as well, and shoved these drills down it - and I could wear one of dad's old hard hats. That would send a clear message to Robbie about what kind of a boy I am."

"I don't know about that, Jeffrey - you wouldn't want to appear Village Peopleish."

 

Chapter 83

"At last!"

"Holmefield Close - this is it."

"Holmefield bloody far is more like it."

"Hurry up, we haven't much time - it's nearly twelve."

"I'll give Robbie 'ask at the windmill'; we've nearly circled the whole blooming town. First, Monday's trek and now this - I'll be getting athlete's foot."

"Best behaviour, Susie," I cautioned, after reading the lengthy warning notice over the imposing entrance. "It's a private road - hardly anyone is welcome."

"Another millionaires' row, Jeffrey - let's hope all the Dobermans are locked up, or this time it could be a case of the Wag nailing the dog."

"Lead on, Susie, you're dressed for the heroics today."

We passed under the archway and kicked our way along through the carpet of fallen leaves.

"They're keen on their big trees around here, Jeffrey."

"And the best kind - the ground's littered with conkers. I wonder if this is the place dad brought me when I was little. I remember we were warned off - parking up a fully loaded skip may have had something to do with it."

"But you got your conkers."

"Yes, and they were too beautiful to smash. I kept them just for looking at." I bent down and gathered some into my bag. "I'll take a few home as a souvenir."

"I'll have a share for Mikey; it won't hurt to remind him that he's still Jones junior, junior."

"I bet you delighted in crushing his conkers."

"I always seemed to accidentally hit him on the knuckles, but I've grown out of that now. I'm maturing rapidly, like a fine wine."

"Isn't that a painstakingly slow process?"

"Is it? Maybe I'm confusing it with cheese. Either way, I've reached the stage where I'd be very comfortable living in a place like this, surrounded by trees; they make me feel all tranquil."

"I wouldn't like to clean out the gutters."

"Don't bring the conversation down to Jeffrey's level, Denise. That isn't a proper topic of discussion for two young ladies - get into character."

"I'm always in character, Susie, it's just become an unusually complex one."

"Simplify to a Wag, and make a Waggish observation."

"I wouldn't be surprised if they had a lot of squirrel trouble around here. They were one thing that wasn't warned off."

"Jeffrey!"

"What's the matter - Wags are interested in fur, aren't they? Anyway, it was a natural remark - one's watching us from the top of that 'For Sale' sign over there."

"Hey, it's dad's. It'll be a good time to ask for a few extra spends when he gets his commission on that little lot. Business is booming whatever he says about it being down to the three Ds."

"The three Ds?"

"The estate agent's faithful friends - death, divorce, and debt."

"Ah, maybe that's why the woman in the garden doesn't seem pleased to see us."

"Yoo-hoo." Susie gave her a wave. "You'll soon be buying me a new pair of winter boots, sourpuss."

"Shush, she's suspicious because we're strangers and we're walking."

"Which is number 8?" Susie shouted.

The lady turned off the garden vac and looked out over the hedge. "What do you want to know for - are you selling something?"

Susie held up the box of Mars bars. "Urgent medical supplies for Robert Davies - a matter of life and death."

"Don't you joke about that poor boy's suffering. He was in a serious car accident; he looks frightful."

"He's worse now; he's contracted Pontiac fever."

A worried frown crossed the woman's face. "Is that one of those deadly foreign diseases?"

"Yes, and it's highly infectious. The whole school's gone down with it. Keep your windows closed."

"What about you?"

"It's too late for us; we've either got it or we haven't got it. We're visiting Robbie to keep his spirits up. Angels of mercy - that's what we are. Tell us where he lives before it's too late."

"Directly opposite." The lady backed away up the path. "Don't come any closer."

"You'll be okay - eat a raw onion." We missed her reply as the front door slammed shut. "Some people! I hadn't finished."

"Leave it, Susie, save your wild tales for our coming confrontation. We may need all your powers of invention to make everyone happy."

I took her arm, and we crossed the road to the wrought iron gates of chateau Davies.

"Wow, Jeffrey, you could drive a herd of wild elephants through here. Robbie's dad is going to take some convincing a couple of wannabee Wags are giving the heir to this estate the old heave-ho."

"I only hope he doesn't suspect I'm a wannabee girl."

"Better take off your mac and sunglasses, then, and unleash Denise in all her glory."

"How about the wig? Maybe it isn't such a good idea now we're here. I don't want to look that different; he has to recognise me as Robbie's little hooker."

"It's very natural - work it into the conversation that you've gone once more into the bleach - an authentic Waggish touch."

"Come on, let's get it over with." I folded the coat over my arm and set off up the drive.

"This really is an impressive house," Susie whistled, as we drew closer. "Upper crust types really seem to fancy you, Jeffrey; I'm sorry I can't offer you vast riches and an imposing mansion."

"There'll never be anyone else but you for me, Susie - poor little fool that I am. I've already waved goodbye to financial security; I'm resigned to you being disinherited."

"Seriously, Jeffrey, with all this behind him, why is Robbie slumming it at our school? He should be at Mikey's place enjoying the benefits of an expensive private education."

"He was until last year, Susie."

"Really - why did he leave?"

"I never asked. He was a year older than the rest of us, so perhaps he couldn't keep up there. He's not very academic."

"That's no bar when you're paying, Jeffrey, believe me."

"Maybe his dad was having a cash-flow problem."

"That's more like it - what does he do?"

"Some sort of investment adviser - Robbie handed out his cards at school."

"Nuff said, Jeffrey. That's a dodgy profession if ever there was one, and he's got his son touting for business into the bargain. We'll have to hide our ha'pennies. This place is probably second mortgaged to the hilt."

"You may be right," I agreed, and ducked under an overhanging branch. "The garden has an air of neglect about it."

"The front door could do with a lick of paint as well - things are definitely not all they seem."

"Let's not speculate - it's none of our business. Ring the bell."

Susie pressed down hard and long. "The more avaricious we appear the better; he's already got two ex-wives to support. I wouldn't be surprised if he's banking on Robbie marrying into money."

"Shush, here he comes."

"Take your cue from me, Jeffrey, and let's give him plenty to think about. If you can't convince them, confuse them."

"I'd rather do both."

"We will."

The bolt slid back, the door opened, and a smartly turned out chief weasel from the Wild Wood greeted us. "Well, ding-dong - who have we here?"

"Are you, Mr Davies?" Susie smiled back.

"In person, and how can I help you?"

"We've come to see Robbie; we're friends from school."

Mr Davies studied us closely. "You're definitely not members of the rugby team - or the hockey team. You do look familiar, though."

"Susie and Denise - he must have mentioned us. We've brought some presents to cheer him up, and we've important news as well."

"Now I've got it - you're the ones in the photographs." Mr Davies stared hard at me. "Or are you?"

"We're out of uniform now; that's probably what's confusing you," I smiled. "The rules are so strict, sometimes I think we may as well dress as boys."

"We tried that as a protest, but it didn't do any good. Nobody noticed until Denise tried out for the second fifteen."

"I borrowed the kit and got as far as the house trials."

"Aaaahhh, so you're that girl - Robbie wasn't making it up."

"Making what up?"

"Nothing - a little misunderstanding. I can see it clearly now - you're Robbie's little hook ... er... tomboy."

"I thought of myself as more of a serious little swot."

"But not so little now."

I glanced down and summoned up a blush. "I have developed recently ... and I like to ... you know ... show off a bit."

"What Denise means is she's become aware that boys have become aware of her wares."

"And not all of their attention has been welcome."

Mr Davies gave me a sly grin. "You can't really blame them if you go around got up like that."

"I've decided to dress for myself. I may be overcompensating, like mum says, but I'm young and foolish."

"Which is why Denise doesn't hold Robbie entirely to blame for the situation that's arisen."

"Oh, and what situation would that be?"

"The one between Robbie and me. We have to clear things up before it's too late."

"Can we come in? Denise wants to get it all done and dusted."

"The sooner the better - we won't keep him long."

"Wait a minute, exactly what is your relationship with Robbie? I've only seen you in a few photos - as far as I know, you're just a casual acquaintance."

"I wish I was, but there have been serious developments."

"How serious?"

"Plenty, and now things have come to a climax."

"Really ... but if you're such good friends, why has Robbie been so reluctant to show you off to me?" Mr Davies challenged. "I wouldn't be hiding away a beauty like you."

"Well, it's a little awkward - with you being Robbie's father. It's not something you'll be pleased to hear."

"Just how far have things gone?"

"A lot further with Robbie than with me."

"Not the other way round?"

"The truth is, it's a case of one-way love."

"You mean you haven't reciprocated."

"Definitely not."

"That's all right, then." Mr Davies leaned against the doorjamb and relaxed. "I'm sure we can sort out any little difficulty. Let's hear the worst."

"You tell him, Susie - I don't like."

"The problem is, Mr Davies, Robbie's been stalking Denise."

"Stalking?"

"Yes, he's become obsessed with me, but I've moved on."

"Then, why are you here?"

"He appealed to us one last time from his sick bed, and we gave in against our better judgement."

"We want to make a clean break while he's incapacitated. I wouldn't feel safe in the same room with him, otherwise. He's a veritable octopus."

"It wouldn't be so bad if he was only after Denise, but he's got me in his sights as well. He wants a girl on each arm. I'm sorry to say Robbie is an unreconstructed male chauvinist."

"And what's worse, the fact that we're sisters seems to unnaturally excite him."

"Not that we're against a menage a trois in principle, but it would have to be with someone who could support us in the manner to which we're becoming accustomed. Isn't that right, Denise?"

"I don't think we should be revealing all this personal stuff to Mr Davies, Susie - he looks bewildered."

"Bewildered isn't the half of it. I'm stunned to hear Robbie is such a Casanova with the ladies."

"He's much sought after, and I'm afraid it's gone to his head; he thinks he can have whoever he likes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, he's the top jock, and what's more," Susie turned and swept out her arm, "he's got all these acres in his back pocket. He's forever flashing pictures of his stately home to impressionable young girls."

"Then it's strange that you're passing up on the chance of snaring such an excellent catch. There's something about your story that doesn't quite ring true."

"Mr Davies is a man of the world, Susie, we can't fool him. Tell him the truth."

"Yes, go on, my dear."

"You're right, we haven't been completely honest with you, but we were trying to spare your feelings. If it had been only up to us, we might have overlooked Robbie's little foibles."

"You're making no sense."

"What Susie means is we've had to bow to a higher authority. Our parents don't approve. They don't think Robbie's good enough for us."

"You what!" Mr Davies flushed with indignation, and a small white scar appeared on his cheek.

"He's of the wrong persuasion."

"Oh, it's a religious thing, is it?"

"That as well."

"As well as what?"

"A financial thing - mum thinks we're pretty enough to land a premiership striker each, doesn't she, Susie?"

"She certainly does, Denise. And mum knows what she's talking about, Mr Davies - dad's the local dart's champion."

"Robbie's only a rugby player, it's a poor man's game - he'll never be able to compete."

"Not that he won't inherit a nice house; this wouldn't shame a footballer's wife."

"Thank you."

"I fancy one with a moat, though; I'm a very private person."

"And we've already got a new boyfriend. I've gone blonde for Dwayne, and added an extra vowel to my name; I'm Deniise with a double 'i' now. It sounds the same, but it spells a lot more classy."

"And I've squeezed myself into skin-tight leather trousers. They chafe, but it's worth it - Dwayne lets me drive his Ferrari. Any chance of you buying Robbie one?"

"No!"

"He's definitely out of luck, then."

"No, you are," Mr Davies spluttered, "because you've made a big mistake. Robbie will fulfil my dreams and play for England one day."

"It's not healthy to live through your children."

"What do you know? I could have played for the county if my career hadn't been blighted by a clumsy oaf of an estate agent. He wrecked my knee."

"It is a man's game."

"He backed his car over it."

"What were you doing down on the ground?"

"Never you mind."

"I was just curious."

"I've no time for idle gossip. I'm a very busy man, and Robbie's not up to receiving visitors."

Mr Davies took a step backwards, and Susie quickly put her foot in the door. "We are here at his request. When he phoned us, he sounded quite chirpy."

"We couldn't stop him talking, and he was insistent we come."

"We're not that bothered ourselves, because we'll be emigrating to Australia."

"The next stop for us is Wagga Wagga - pronounced Wogga Wogga."

"That's what you said, Denise."

"So I did, Susie. I'm in such a tizz over Robbie, I don't know whether I'm reading or talking. But I'd still like to do the right thing by him."

"Me too, Mr Davies, when we heard Robbie was ill, we felt duty bound to come round and end the affair in person."

"Not that there's been an affair - we aren't that kind of girls."

"And we're not the kind of girls to dump someone by text. We don't want to break his heart from a distance, do we, Denise?"

"We'd like to give him our presents and say our final farewells. This is our last chance because we won't be at school on Monday."

"And we've had a hell of a long journey."

"And he really did ask to see us."

"Please, can we come in? We've gone to a lot of trouble."

"He'll be disappointed if he finds out we were so near yet so far."

"Heartbroken, even - he sounded really choked on the phone."

"Pleeaaase."

"Very well, if you must," Mr Davies relented. "I don't suppose it will do any harm, and while he's talking to you, he won't be yelling down for me to wait on him."

"A demanding patient, is he?"

"Yes, don't go upsetting him."

"We won't," Susie promised. "Robbie will soon get over us - girls will be throwing themselves at him to take our place."

"It's not like we were his first love; he has quite a reputation."

"That's very reassuring to hear." Mr Davies stepped back and waved us in. "Mind your head."

I ducked to one side and avoided the birdcage.

"Who's a pretty boy, then?"

"Is that a parrot?"

"A mynah bird."

"Two and a half out of three, Denise."

"And I wasn't even trying, Susie."

"Have I missed something?"

"No, we had a little bet with each other that the owner of a place like this would own an exotic pet."

"We've never been anywhere like this before, have we, Denise? It's even more luxurious inside than I imagined."

"Having second thoughts are you?" Mr Davies smirked.

"It's out of our hands; the tickets are already booked. I expect they have just as nice houses in Australia, though - and more sunshine."

"Oh, by the way," Mr Davies reached into his top pocket and passed over a card. "Is your boyfriend with the Ferrari looking for a safe place to get an excellent return on his money?"

"He's already found one - us."

"I meant a serious investment."

"Denise will be handling his financial affairs - she's a whiz with figs - and I'm going to be his agent. Dwayne will be able to concentrate on kicking a ball around, and we'll take care of all the rest."

"From Australia?"

"Dwayne's so stuck on us, he's going to commute."

"Don't think I can't recognize when someone's spinning me a yarn," Mr Davies frowned, as he guided us through the hall. "You're guilty of telling more than a few little porkies."

"Well, maybe we slightly exaggerated about Dwayne."

"Only slightly?"

"He's in the future at the moment. Denise is a great believer in forward planning."

"We weren't trying to trick you; we just have a tendency to anticipate the facts."

"You're a pair of fantasists. First Robbie's stalking you, then he's not good enough for you, and then you're emigrating to Australia with an imaginary Dwayne. What is going on?"

"Tell Mr Davies the truth, Denise."

"I'd rather not. Let's give Robbie our presents and get out of here."

"Not so fast. First, I want to hear your next fairy-tale."

"I don't like talking about it; I have my pride. It's awful to be jilted," I sobbed. "Quite honestly, Robbie's been a bit of a swine."

"Robbie's a gentleman; he takes after me."

"That's part of the trouble - Robbie told Denise she reminded him of his mother, and it made her feel uncomfortable."

"Yes, what's a girl to think when a boy tells her something like that."

"Hold still a moment." Mr Davies seized his chance to give me a closer inspection. "Let's see if I agree with Robbie about you."

I took a deep breath while he lingered over Pinky and Perky. "Phew, it's hot in here - I'm all of a quiver."

"Modesty, Denise, you're showing too much."

"Sorry, Susie. Sorry, Mr Davies, it's my first time in a grown-up dress; I sneaked it out of mum's wardrobe."

"I should be the one apologising for staring. Judging from your photos, you really have filled out."

"Denise was a late developer."

"I've had a growth spurt, and it's left me with a big bum as well. Mum's clothes fit better than mine." I turned and gave him a wiggle. "Do you think it's out of proportion for a young girl?"

"Your bottom is absolutely fine - don't worry about it. And you do bear a definite resemblance to my first wife. Robbie bestowed a great compliment on you; she was a very beautiful woman."

"You're only saying that."

"It's the gospel truth. You have my word as a Lion, a Mason, and a Rotarian."

"I'd like to believe you, but I know better. It was Robbie's way of dumping me. The fact is, in spite of my blossoming, I'm still an intellectual at heart, and it irritates him. He likes girls to agree with everything he's says, and I can't bring myself to do that."

"Denise has a habit of correcting every minor mistake. She can be bloody annoying at times - if you'll pardon my French."

"I don't really know what to make of all this." Mr Davies shook his head and sighed. "But, then again, I never really worked out what made Annunziata tick, or Chantelle - or Tammi, come to that."

"I don't understand Robbie, either - or boys in general. Things were so much simpler before I met him. I wish I hadn't come, but he was so dramatic on the phone, I thought he might be dying."

"He's a hypochondriac - all top sportsmen are. You go up there and sort things out with him - whatever they are," he winked. "I know how complicated young love can be."

"We've definitely sorted things out now. We'll leave our presents and say a last farewell - all very civilised."

"I wasn't the best of husbands to Robbie's mother, so maybe you're having a lucky escape."

"That's how we should look at it, Denise, we'll accept his gracious apologies and wave farewell for ever."

"Right, Susie, we'll send him a postcard from Australia."

"I'll be surprised if you ever get there," Mr Davies laughed. "This way." He showed us through to the bottom of the stairs. "Now, you'll have to excuse me, I have some important details to sort out for an appointment with my bank manager."

"Thank you, you've been very considerate," I smiled, as we started on our way up.

"To the left, and it's the door at the end. Oh, one last thing - if you don't mind me asking."

"Nohhhh."

"Have you any pound coins for the parking meter? I seem to have run out."

"Sorry," Susie grinned, "Wags don't carry cash, and we don't lend money to strangers."

"Or relations."

"You're very astute for ones so young. In fact, you're remarkable girls all round."

"We're a pair of regular English muffins, aren't we, Denise?"

"If you say so, Susie."

"Off you go, then, and keep Robbie busy until I'm out of the house. I've been up and down these stairs like a yo-yo this week."

"You were slow off the mark, Denise."

"He pinched my bottom as a parting shot, Susie," I fumed, when I joined her on the landing.

"I did warn you, but never mind it's a job well done - he wouldn't have groped a Jeffrey."

"I let him have a good feel so he'd have no doubts about it being a real bum. I hope my inaction spoke louder than words, because we changed our story so often."

"He's marked us down as two dizzy girls. You're flighty Denise Smith, and he won't be coming knocking at Jeffrey Smith's door - nothing else matters."

"Are you sure?"

"I've got his number; he doesn't believe a word anyone says. He's a stranger to the truth in his business - he's a con man."

"All this is real, and everything's super plush."

"It's built on sand, Jeffrey."

"Boulder clay this far inland, surely, Susie."

"Don't be contrary, Jeffrey, you know what I mean - this is a house of jelly. As soon as I saw the suede jacket and yellow waistcoat, I took a tight grip on my purse. I wouldn't trust him with my savings."

"Be tactful and try not to let slip to Robbie that his father's a crook."

"I'll do my best, but mark my words - there's a man who'd water the cat's milk."

"That could be gran speaking."

"Thank you, Jeffrey, I know how you admire her."

"She's discreet as well, so steer away from any driving talk with Robbie - that's another taboo subject."

"Then see you keep up your end of the conversation and make sure there are no awkward silences."

"It won't be easy - have you ever visited a boy in his bedroom, Susie?"

"Mikey - and you."

"That doesn't count. I meant one who wanted to bugger you."

"Certainly not!"

"I only want to know how to behave; I don't want to accidentally arouse Robbie's passion. Should I put my coat back on?"

"I'm loath to admit it, Jeffrey, but it's hard to know what your best course is. The mac is erotic in its own way."

"Why didn't you tell me that before?"

"I thought you knew - all rainwear is. Did Robbie like to see you in wellingtons?"

"He offered me his cagoule one time - does that mean anything?"

"Definitely."

"I'm covering up. Pinky and Perky have done their bit for today."

"You'll just have to hope he's too ill to fancy a shiny, PVC-clad, blonde nurse."

"I'll risk it - he hasn't your imagination, Susie."

 

Chapter 84

"Shush, Susie," I hissed, as we came to Robbie's bedroom. "Best not remind him of our part in his unfortunate hair loss."

"I thought making light of it would be a good way to break the ice."

"Well, it won't - he was proud of his quiff - show some tact."

"It's my middle name."

"Then, you first - I want to make sure he really is down and out, before I expose myself."

"I don't know what to say now; you've put me right off. I was relying on humour to defuse what could be a sticky situation."

"Make some show of sympathy - but whatever you do, don't mention the car." I eased open the door and gave Susie a little shove. "Go on."

I sneaked in behind and kept out of sight as she crossed the wide expanse of luxury shag pile to the foot of Robbie's king-size bed.

"How are you, chuck?" Susie grinned at the propped up figure, spooning away at a generous helping of prunes and custard. "Eee, lad, you do look ill."

"I am ill, and this is making me worse," Robbie groaned. He grimaced and swallowed another large mouthful before laying the bowl aside. "But I have to force it down - it's highly important for a top athlete to keep regular. I like to be a first thing in the morning man, otherwise I feel uncomfortable all day."

"Thanks for sharing that intimate personal detail, but I would have preferred a simple hello."

"Hello," he grumped, and withdrew back under the duvet.

"I thought you'd be more pleased to see me after all the fuss you made."

"I've been a bundle of nerves, watching the clock, this past hour."

"Patience is a virgin, particularly in your condition. Relax and unclench your hair."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing - don't get so heated - we're here now."

"And not before time - I'd almost given up hope. Where have you been?"

"It's your own fault for telling us to get off at the windmill; it's miles away. What were you thinking of?"

"I pass there on the way home from school; it's the nearest landmark." Robbie gestured towards the window. "Look, that's the tip of a sail poking above the trees."

"I can see the moon from our house, but I wouldn't tell visitors to enter it in their sat-nav."

"I did my best. I'm sick, I've a temperature, and I've a lot on my mind."

"That's no excuse for sending us on a mystery tour."

"This is an exclusive estate; it's meant to be hidden away. Hhruuuummph, hhruuuummph."

"Don't get worked up - I wouldn't want to be responsible for you having a relapse."

"Hhruuuummph, hhruuuummph."

"Do you want me to slap you on the back?"

"No, keep your distance," Robbie choked. "I'm okay."

"You don't look it. You're pale and shivering like the white of a hard-boiled egg."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are, Humpty - and a freshly topped one, with that nice yolky patch on your forehead. What is it?"

"Antibiotic ointment."

"Have you got the mange?"

"You know exactly what I've got. It's treatment for the first-degree burns I suffered thanks to you and Jeffrey. My eyebrows may never grow back."

"What do you mean? That had nothing to do with us."

"It had everything to do with you two," Robbie spluttered, expelling a drool of custard. "And where is Jeffrey? He'd better not have chickened out."

"He's exercising a degree of caution. It's okay, Jeffrey," Susie called over her shoulder, "you'll be quite safe - Robbie's slumped against his pillow, a shadow of his former self. Lend me your support, and tell him whose fault all this is."

"I'm not playing the blame game, Susie." I poked my head out from behind the wardrobe and got my first view of the gallery of photos over Robbie's bed. "This is even creepier than I expected - there are pictures of me everywhere. Let's dump our presents and go."

"He has been snap happy with you, Jeffrey, but don't exaggerate - you're outnumbered ten to one by self-portraits. Robbie's the Rembrandt of rugby players. Come here and strike a pose for him."

I stepped forward and gave a little wave. "Hi, Robbie, I won't take off my coat - I'm not stopping."

"God, is that really you, Jeffrey?" Robbie gasped, and sat bolt upright. "What have you done to yourself?"

"Hardly anything - I've just kept my side of the bargain, and I want no nonsense from you; I've had enough with your dad."

"Oooohhh, come closer, Jeffrey, or is it, Denise?"

"Whichever excites you less," I glared. "And I'm staying back here. I warned you about starting any funny business."

"I can't help it - you're a vision," Robbie croaked. "Hhruuuummph, hhruuuummph ..." He hawked away until he went red in the face.

"Careful, your eyes are watering. I didn't realise you were this bad; we won't stay long."

"No, I'm okay," he gasped. "It's only a frog in my throat."

"Better than a toad in the hole."

"Don't encourage him, Susie, you'll only stimulate his imagination."

"She doesn't have to. You look so great - better than anything I hoped for ... but ..."

"But what?"

"Well, it's hardly a see-through mac. I hope you unbuttoned a bit, and dad saw a little more than circumstantial evidence."

"He did. He had a right eyeful of Pinky and Perky - and a left one. Plus a generous handful of my bottom."

"That's more than I've ever had. Show me what's under there - I want to be doubly sure."

"You've seen them before."

"I'm suffering from partial traumatic amnesia as well."

"How do you know words like that?"

"It's what the doctor told dad, when I couldn't explain how my car got blown up on the beach. I went along with it, but your boobs really are a blur in my mind."

"And they're staying that way."

"I won't rest easy until I see them."

"Go on, Jeffrey, he won't stop pestering, and you must be sweltering." Susie wafted her hand across her face. "It's like the tropics in here. Is all this heat and humidity good for you, Robbie?"

"It's what the doctor ordered. I have to keep warm and take in plenty of fluids."

"You may be overdoing it on all counts. Less heat, less humidity, and less Lucozade would be my advice."

"You're not the one who's suffering, and I'm bored stupid into the bargain. Be a sport, Jeffrey, and make my day - think of it as farewell gift."

"Okay, you don't deserve it, but I am feeling a bit uncomfortable under all this, and I'm scared of getting sweat stains on mum's dress." I undid the belt, and slowly shrugged the mac from my shoulders.

"Oooooohhhhh, more, more!"

"Don't tease him, Jeffrey, you're your own worst enemy - straight off with it."

"It's clinging to me, Susie - it's static or something." I jiggled myself free and turned to face Robbie. "Satisfied?"

"Wonderful - you're almost naked! This is too good to be true. How did you know to come got up exactly like that?"

"Because you asked me - and it's highly embarrassing."

"You don't look embarrassed."

"Well, I am," I sniffed. "I feel very uncomfortable in an outfit my mum thinks too risque. If it weren't for my high moral principles, I would never have considered wearing this. I only did it to help you out."

"And it worked - your dad made a pass at Jeffrey. We executed the plan perfectly. He's totally convinced Denise is all girl. You can congratulate yourself, but just remember we did the heavy lifting."

"Good, good ... ugh ... ugh."

"That really is a nasty cough."

"Something went down the wrong way again. I'm full of thick spit," Robbie moaned. "I've had a bloody miserable time since the weekend."

"We brought some flowers to cheer you up," Susie smiled, and wandered over to the bedside table. "I'll put them in that glass of Lucozade for now - they need reviving."

"They look worse than me."

"They've wilted a bit on the journey. I told you what a slog we had; we've really put ourselves out for you."

"Thanks ... ugh ... ugh... ugh."

"Are you sure you're okay?."

"I'm improving; I'm fine now, Susie."

"You can't be that fine - not with the selection of pills you've got here. What are these pink ones?"

"I don't know. I swallow the lot. I only wish there were some to make my hair grow back."

"I can see why you're worried; that style doesn't suit you."

"It's not a bloody style - it's your bloody handiwork. Ugh ... ugh... ugh."

"Have it your way, but some people could carry off a tuft at the front - no problem."

"Such as?"

"Coconuts."

"They're not people."

"Japanese monks, then, but you're obviously not much of a thinker."

"Are you implying I've a low forehead?"

"Well, it's a scientific fact there are Neanderthals among us, isn't that right, Jeffrey?"

"Absolutely, Susie, he's already fed me bananas and tried to drag me into his cave."

"We had a misunderstanding, Jeffrey, that's all," Robbie protested. "Things have changed - let me explain."

"Nothing you can say ..."

"I just want to set the record straight - please."

"We're only stopping five minutes."

"I could cough that long."

"We'd better go, then; we don't want to tire you."

"No, no, I'm over the worst, especially now I've seen how dad saw you. I can't thank you enough for helping."

"You blackmailed me."

"Only in theory - I haven't even got a Facebook page."

"I should thump you."

"You can if it will make you feel any better."

"Calm down, you're getting overexcited again."

"I'm entitled to - it's so bloody marvellous. Dad can't fault my taste in women. You look like my mum, and Susie looks like his second wife."

"As in Chantelle?"

"Yes."

"You've a bloody cheek!"

"What?"

"Could I ever be a Chantelle, Jeffrey?"

"Definitely not, Susie."

"She had reddish hair, that's all."

"Well, I'm a vivid auburn - and don't you forget it."

"I'm sorry - I really am. I apologise a thousand times to you - and you, Jeffrey. Now, please tell me what happened - every detail."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Then, you will, Susie, won't you? I've got to know."

"You can rest easy. I've already told you, everything went according to plan. Your dad's convinced you're a chump off the old block, susceptible to female charms, but ruthless with it."

"Ruthless - where did that come into it?"

"Denise turned on the tears for you. She's broken-hearted because you gave her the elbow without a moment's regret, and she's emigrating to Australia. I am as well; we're sisters, by the way, who both fell under your spell - another feather we unselfishly put in your cap."

"I would rather dad thought I had a regular girlfriend."

"That was never on; it's way too dangerous for me - and you."

"Be satisfied with what you've got. Your dad completely understands the situation. You're besotted with girls, and you're working your way through the sixth form."

"Oh - I'm that ruthless, am I?"

"Yes, some fatherly advice may be coming your way."

"I hope you haven't exaggerated things too much. It'll be hard work maintaining a reputation like that."

"Shout out 'Good riddance, you silly bitches' when we leave - that'll be a start."

"And stop complaining - we've done a first class job. You should be thanking your lucky stars."

"It was for our mutual benefit, Jeffrey."

"It was your uncontrollable animal lust that caused the problem - just you remember that."

"Yes, you should be blooming grateful we put our personal feelings aside to help you."

"What about my personal feelings, Susie? I've lost a car and one or two other essentials, thanks to you."

"He can put us down for a pair of false eyebrows - agreed, Jeffrey."

"Yes, real human hair and as bushy as you like, Robbie - a monobrow, even - but that's your lot."

"Well, it's not enough, I need transport, and you can help me with that."

"No, we can't."

"It's beneath me to bus it to school; I have a position to uphold."

"Play your cards right," Susie winked, "and you'll get a new car out of your suffering."

"Not off dad I won't."

"I've already done my best for you, there - I dropped a hint about a Ferrari."

"I wish you hadn't. Dad went ballistic when he thought I'd been racing on the beach. He says I'll never get insured again; that's why I need some assistance."

"Use your noggin, Robbie, this Pontiac fever debacle has pound signs written all over it. You'll be able to sue the pants off the school."

"Dad's a governor; he wouldn't hear of such a thing. He's a man of the highest integrity; he has to be in his business."

"Get your own lawyer, and you can sue your dad as well. My cousin's a solicitor."

"No win, no fee, isn't he, Susie?"

"Right on both counts, Jeffrey. He has a one hundred per cent record, and he hasn't been spoiled by success. I'll have a word in his ear if you like."

"You could do me a more practical favour. Seeing as you're emigrating to Australia, and everything, it'll be no skin off your nose if you confess to dad that you crashed my car. Say you took it for a joyride without my knowledge, and I've been misguidedly protecting you."

"Forget that!" Susie snorted. "We're keeping our hooters out of your business from now on. Shut up, and eat the rest of your prunes."

"They're awful."

"That's the goodness in them."

"They were gritty; I needed a big helping of custard to get them down. I can't manage any more; I'm full of prunes."

"You don't look it, but give them time to work their way through."

"My gran was a great believer in the benefits of prunes as a cure for coughs, but she says they're not what they used to be."

"Really, Jeffrey?"

"Yes - they used to be plums."

"Boom-boom." Susie grinned, and punched me on the arm. "Keep that up, and you'll have Robbie laughing his coconut off. It's a funny cure for a cough, though."

"If you eat enough, you're afraid to cough. Don't overdo it, Robbie."

"I won't; I've had enough of invalid's food. What I need is some chocolate - did you bring me any, like I asked?"

"That sort of stuff will only make more phlegm. Just to show I have your best interests at heart," I smiled, "I brought you these as a special treat."

I fished out my present and dropped a crumpled brown paper bag onto the bed.

"What's in there?"

"Yes, let's have a squiz, Jeffrey, you've been keeping things very close to your chest."

"Help yourself, " I beamed, "I'm sure Robbie will spare you a few. If you like them, there's plenty more where they came from."

Susie untwisted the top and peered in. "Uuuggh!" She jumped back in alarm.

"What's the matter?"

"It moved - something's alive in there."

"They can't be - they've been in the fridge for a week."

"The heat in here must have revived them."

"Never, you're imagining things. Take no notice, Robbie - help yourself."

He reached out and cautiously drew the bag towards him. "What are they?"

"A pint of winkles."

"Winkles, Jeffrey?"

"Yes, Susie, winkles - my farewell gift to Robbie. Something to make his hair grow."

"From the expression on his face, Jeffrey, I think he would have been happier with a bunch of bananas."

 

Chapter 85

"I expected more than a stunned silence by way of a thank you, Susie."

"But winkles, Jeffrey."

"I reckoned they'd be the bee's knees for a convalescent - nutritious, but not lying heavily on the stomach."

"Did you hear that, Robbie? Jeffrey's really put your welfare first. Show your appreciation and tuck in - we'll excuse fingers."

Robbie risked a closer look and blenched. "I haven't really much of an appetite at the moment. I don't mind sharing them, though - after you, Susie."

"After you, Jeffrey, I expect they're a favourite of yours."

"No, shellfish aren't my cup of meat - or mum's. But Uncle Ted won't take the hint. He keeps on bringing us his cockles and muscles."

"Alive, alive-O - just like I said."

"Shush, Susie, you'll put him off. Get them down, Robbie, they're specially for you."

"I wouldn't feel right taking what someone's given you as a present."

"It's okay; they're destined for the dustbin. You're not depriving anyone - next door's cat turned up its nose at them as well."

"Thanks, but no thanks." Robbie grimaced, and gingerly pushed the bag away. "Animals know when something's off."

"Not in this case - it was more than likely nonpussed by the novelty of the situation."

"That's a good point, Jeffrey. How would a cat eat a winkle?"

"Hook them out with its claws, Susie - no trouble."

"It'd have to be a pretty smart cat to figure that out if it had never seen a winkle before."

"I suppose so - but it likes playing with snails."

"But have you ever seen it eat one?"

"No."

"There's the explanation, then - cats are very conservative in their diet. Once they've feasted on Kit-e-Kat, they're spoilt for anything else."

"That must be it, because there's nothing wrong with these winkles; they've been well boiled." I took a sniff before holding out the bag to Robbie. "Here, you can smell the sea."

"I'd rather not. It's a very kind offer, Jeffrey, but there's something funny about them."

"Well, they are winkles."

"It's more than that."

"They're in prime condition. You're imagining it."

"I am not - ask Susie."

"You have to admit they're more the dog's bollocks than the bee's knees, Jeffrey."

"Exactly - and I don't like foreign food. They eat all sorts of crappy stuff."

"These are local, the cream of the crop - specially collected from around the outfall pipe of the nuclear power station."

"I knew it - they're glowing!" Robbie jerked away in alarm - "Oooowwww!" - and banged his head on the wall. "Get them away from me - the bloody things are radioactive."

"They're iridescent, that's all," I reassured him, and dropped the bag back into his lap. "The slight green tinge is wholesomely natural."

"No, it's not."

"It's bioluminescence, Robbie - it's harmless. We're doing it in biology."

"Uncle Ted's been eating them for years, and he's as fit as a flea."

"You'd marvel at his 'Jake the Peg' party piece - you'd swear the third leg was his own."

"Don't, Susie - Robbie is not amused."

"I can take a joke, but I'm not touching these." He shook the bag away with the duvet. "Leave them in the fridge on your way out. Tammi likes French food - she'll scoff anything as long as she doesn't have to cook it."

"You aren't being a good host, Robbie. After Jeffrey's tottered here, a pearl in sheer oyster pink, the least you can do is sample one of his winkles."

"This isn't the time for me to be to trying something new with my weakened resistance. I could be allergic. I've never eaten a winkle before."

"Get away!"

"I wouldn't know where to start."

"You use a pin."

"I haven't got one."

"I spy a Blue Peter badge." Susie went over and unfastened it from Robbie's notice board. "What did you get this for?"

"Leave that alone - it has sentimental value. I arm-wrestled it off cousin Claude. I don't want it tarnished."

"Suck them out, then," I suggested. "That's what mum's uncle does. Winkles are more than a meal, they're a challenge - it'll be something to keep you occupied."

"They're pleb's food, and I'm sick," he groaned. "I'm not well enough to digest raw stuff."

"They're packed with goodness, full of vitamins and minerals. Get them down, and you'll pick up your bed and walk."

"For the last time, I don't want the stinkers, they're too fiddly, and there'll be shells all over."

"Please yourself, it's your loss. There's probably a big fat whelk hiding in there somewhere."

"Uuuggh!"

"You could really have got your tongue into that, and it would have kept you occupied for hours; they're better than chewing gum."

"Aaaaww, take them away! I don't know how you can be so unkind to me, Jeffrey. I'm not daft; you've been deliberately taunting me with your winkles."

"I'm sorry if I've been misunderstood; I only wanted to show your health was my main concern."

"Then, the least you could have done is buy me a get well card," Robbie sulked. "It wouldn't have been too much to ask."

"Cheer up, all is not lost," Susie smiled. "Jeffrey was wary of giving you the sort of present with a hidden meaning, but I've brought your favourites. Here you are - no expense spared - a full box of mini Mars bars."

"That's more like it." Robbie tore off the lid and grabbed one, before scowling with disappointment. "Oh, they aren't the real thing."

"Don't be so ungrateful - I've one shoulder lower than the other after tramping miles with them. They're near enough - full of fat, salt, and sugar - you'll never notice the difference."

"But, they're not the same as the genuine ones. I'll know I'm eating cheap fakes."

"They're bloody expensive fakes; I could have got you past-their sell-by-date Cadbury's creme eggs from B&M at half the price."

"They would have been better than these. Fabri...queue ... en ... Belgi...queue ... that's not English. I bet they're from Aldi - it's a chav shop."

"Don't be such a snob, Robbie, mum and I live out of Aldi. Try them - I promise you they haven't crunchy frog centres."

"You're not funny, Jeffrey." Robbie grunted, but he unwrapped one and held it to his nose. "At least these smell okay."

"So they should, Belgium is the home of the finest chocolate in the world."

"Is it, Jeffrey?"

"Yes, Susie, they have their own secret recipe. Eddie Merckx won the Tour de France on it."

"And I believe Hercule Poirot swore by it."

"And George Simenon."

"And Tintin."

"What are you talking about?"

"We're playing famous Belgians. Your turn, Robbie."

"I don't even know where Belgia is, Jeffrey," he mumbled, as a second bar disappeared into his mouth.

"It's ..."

"You're right, these aren't bad."

"Don't you want to be enlightened?"

"I'm too ill for brain work, and there's something important I want to get settled before you go."

"That's very generous of you," Susie smiled, "offering to reimburse us for the taxi fares."

"Taxi fares?"

"We're supposed to be Wags - you couldn't expect us to use public transport."

"But ..."

"Twenty pounds will cover it."

"That's a bit steep."

"We have to get home as well."

"And it's no fun parading around dressed like this. I have to keep a low profile, Robbie; you don't seem to realise the risks I've taken for you."

"I appreciate it, but ..."

"And we'll still be out of pocket with the pressies, and Jeffrey having to get his mum's dress cleaned. We're not millionaires like you. All I can see from my bedroom window is a rusty old mangle, a wonky fence, and Jeffrey's compost heap."

"There's some money in the top drawer," he sighed. "Help yourself."

"Thank you," Susie grinned, "you can trust me to take only what we're owed."

"Are there are any pictures of me in there, Susie?"

"No, but there's a lonely fiver. I'd better have that as well, Robbie, and then you won't be beholden to us for the flowers and Mars bars. Are they still okay?"

"Bloody good," he gulped, and almost swallowed one whole. "They're more chocalately than the originals."

"Chew every mouthful 36 times, Robbie, or you'll give yourself indigestion."

"Don't mother me, Jeffrey. They're bite-size, and my body's craving its natural fuel. I've been on a starvation diet."

"I'm just showing natural concern; you shouldn't put a strain on your stomach when you're ill."

"Why not?"

"Because everything's connected."

"Is it?"

"Yes."

"I don't see how it can be, or I'd be permanently choking."

"Well, it is. Leave those Mars bars alone; you've had enough. Here, I brought you something else." I delved into my bag again. "This'll occupy your mind as well as your hands."

"Is it a dirty magazine?"

"No, it's not." I quickly placed my second present on the bedside table.

"What's that?"

"It's a Rubik's cube. You can have it for keeps; I've a drawerful at home."

"Let's have a go." Susie picked it up and gave it a few turns. "Why is it squashed at one corner?"

"I left it on top of the gas fire, and it melted, but it still works okay."

"It's more than generous of you to part with something so personal, Jeffrey." Susie tossed the cube across to Robbie. "Here, sort that out."

"I'll never be able to; I'm no good at puzzles."

"Well, use it like worry beads. Twiddling away is very soothing, and it will improve your manual dexterity."

"My what?"

"I thought rugby players did special exercises to improve their ball handling."

"Oh, that."

"It's a bit stiff because of the warping, but that'll build up your finger power even more. But be careful you don't develop cubist's thumb."

"My dad can crack a walnut with his thumb."

"And he's a top rugby player. You're pleased with it, aren't you, Robbie?"

"Yes, thanks a lot, Jeffrey. Now, can we get back to me, please?" he huffed. "There's something important I want to sort out."

"Then quit stuffing yourself, and let's hear it. We've stayed too long already; your dad might think a reconciliation is on the cards."

Robbie downed another Mars bar before assuming a serious expression. "Don't be offended, Jeffrey, but the fact is I was fascinated by your bum from the very beginning."

"Well, that's the usual focus of interest, isn't it?"

"But the peculiar thing is, it was never a skinny boy's bottom. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

"Probably."

"And now it's even more of a luscious girl's one."

"I don't want to hear any more."

"And I like you flaunting your boobs as well - the bigger the better."

"You're delirious."

"You're delicious."

"Shut up!"

"Oh, I hope dad saw your breasts heave like that."

"He did; he gave them a close scrutiny."

"And they passed with flying colours. Jeffrey's in the clear as Denise, so don't go buggering things up again with your daft infatuation."

"Well said, Susie. And for your information, Robbie, I enhanced myself for your dad's benefit - these aren't all my own."

"You could have fooled me, but I know your bum is - I can tell by the way it moves against your dress."

"You're raving mad. What do you know about girl's bottoms?"

"More than you think. I've been making a close study of female anatomy while I've been lying here. I had an ulterior motive for getting you to come round. There's a little experiment I want to do."

"I knew it. Well, you're out of luck - I'm not granting you any last wishes. We googled Pontiac fever - you're not that ill."

"Yes, I am - or I wouldn't be missing the biggest match of the season this afternoon. I played with bird flu last year."

"Don't exaggerate - it was only a heavy cold."

"I sweated buckets before I was injured, and even then Old Harry had to drag me off. He only wished he could find fifteen who showed my dedication to duty."

"I'm not arguing. I'd be more than happy if you'd confine your obsession to rugby."

"Just listen - this is important. I want to try out my theory on you."

"No."

"And Susie."

"Double no- you wouldn't recognise a theory if it came up and bit you on the behind."

"That's where you're wrong because rugby's a highly scientific game; I have long discussions with Mr Carey on strategy and tactics."

"What has that got to do with it?"

"It shows that when something interests me, I'm capable of giving the matter deep thought. Guess how I've been passing the time while I've been stuck in bed, Jeffrey."

"I'd rather not."

"I may not be much cop at Rubik's cube, but I have been challenging myself intellectually - I've been watching Countdown."

"Are you sure? I didn't think it was your sort of thing."

"I haven't actually played that much. Once I got my first look at the Countdown girl's bottom, I couldn't concentrate on anything else."

"So?"

"It's a girl's bottom, Jeffrey - like yours. Being hypnotised by it was a new sensation for me. I felt compelled to watch her all over again on 4+1."

"You couldn't have chosen better; you can learn to wank by numbers. I hope you'll be very happy together. Write in, and she'll send you an autographed photo."

"I don't need to. You've turned up in the exact same tight pink mini-dress and high-heels she had on yesterday. It's uncanny."

"No, it isn't - it was your idea."

"It was not, and I never mentioned a blonde wig."

"Susie persuaded me to wear it as a disguise - and the dress. I was all for coming in black leather."

"Oh, that's my second favourite on her."

"You're making this up."

"No, I'm not. You're jiggling again - Can I have two big ones from the top row, please? I love it when they ask for that ... ugh ... ugh ... ugh ... ugh."

"Serves you right."

"Ugh ... ugh ... ugh ... ugh." Robbie pointed to his throat and beckoned me over.

"Do you want a glass of water?"

"Careful, Jeffrey," Susie warned. "A hyena doesn't change its tune - he's not choking, he's laughing up his sleeve."

I danced away from Robbie's grasp just in time.

"Spoilsport! I'm so frustrated. I've been kissing the telly."

"Calm down, Robbie. What's come over you - are you having a funny turn?"

"And a half! I adore her. She's soooo female, and she dresses like a tart - just like you, Denise."

"I resemble that."

"I don't think we should joke about this, Jeffrey, Robbie is obviously in the throes of an identity crisis."

"Mine or his, Susie?"

"Oh, you're my dream made flesh! I want you, Denise, I've seen the light."

"Robbie's obviously, but you've been instrumental in his conversion. He's been struck down on the road to Sodom and Gomorrah."

"Love is a many splendoured thing. Bend over and show me your bottom, Susie."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that. What did you say, Robbie?"

"I said bend over and show me your bottom."

"Don't push your luck."

"Please, I have to know for sure."

"What?"

"Whether it has the same effect on me as Denise's, or if it's just because she's Jeffrey."

"I thought you were hooked by the girl on Countdown."

"Her as well, but I've been feverish - I might have hallucinated the whole thing. I want to see the living flesh in the cold light of day."

"Go on, Susie, do your bit for Robbie before he becomes hysterical, and then we can be on our way."

"I'll turn round, but I'm not bending over."

Smack!

"Jeffrey!"

"Sorry, Susie - my hand was drawn there. You know what it's like."

Smack!

"Yes, Jeffrey."

"Ooer! Fat bottomed girls - you make the rockin' world go round."

"He has gone mad, Susie."

"Do it some more, please. I'm having a lesbian sisters spanking fantasy."

"What else have you been watching, Robbie - have you got Sky?"

"Lesbians have become a favourite topic of conversation amongst the first fifteen, since Catchpole saw you two walking around with your hands on each other's bottoms."

"You're a bunch of concupiscent perverts."

"And that goes double for me. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"I was only trying to be one of the boys, Susie. You'd be surprised how many of them fancy you and Jeffrey."

"No, I wouldn't."

"Well, I would."

"That's because you were as innocent as my lady's thong, Jeffrey." Susie gave me a kiss on the cheek. "I found you just in time."

"I think we'd better restrain ourselves, Susie - he's come out in a hot flush. Don't excite yourself, Robbie, it's not good for you."

"He looks like one of those bald-headed, red-faced monkeys. I wonder if it's some sort of mating display."

Robbie sat up straight and let go a giant belch. "Ooooer, I feel queasy. Get me a Lucozade - there's some on the dresser."

"I'd advise against any more sugar."

"It's glucose - specially for invalids. Hurry up, I feel sick."

"It'll be the prunes and custard clashing with the Mars bars; you've had six - I've been counting - not to mention the winkles."

"I haven't eaten a bloody winkle," Robbie fumed. "But I can smell them; they're what's turning my stomach. I knew they were rotten."

"There is a strong pong coming from somewhere, Jeffrey."

"It's your flowers, Susie, you would have been better picking a few dandelions. Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds - and winkles."

"I think Uncle Frank may have reminded me of that at one time, Jeffrey."

"He got it from Shakespeare, who tops all your crackpot psychologists, so it's worth taking note of."

"I already have, Jeffrey."

"I wish you'd take note of me," Robbie wailed. "Another wave's coming, and the bed's swaying. Oh, I'm feeling seasick."

"Well, don't blame the winkles; there's an 'R' in the month. You've got the central heating turned up too high, that's your trouble. I'm feeling sticky in this dress."

"Me too, Jeffrey, it's like a sauna in here."

"Just get rid of the winkles, and I'll be okay." Robbie reached out and threw them to the foot of the bed. "I must be allergic; I was on the mend until you arrived."

"Are you sure it's only Pontiac Fever you're suffering from?"

"What do you mean?"

"I googled it, and it's not very serious - especially in a fit young man. You look proper poorly. You're displaying a definite yellow cast now that you've deflushed."

"No, I'm not; it's the burn ointment."

"It's more widespread than that, and there's a hint of green in there. He's went as red as a cucumber, didn't he, Jeffrey?"

"Maybe it was the reflection from the walls, Susie. It wouldn't be my choice of decor."

"I'm not so sure, Jeffrey, have you heard of Weil's disease?"

"It's spread by rats."

"Rat piss to be precise."

"There are rumours rats have been seen in the corridors, and it's a fact rotting pigeons had to be removed from the water tank last term."

"Need we say more - get yourself a second opinion before it's too late, Robbie."

"Have a look in his eye, Susie, and see if it resembles a poached egg."

"I'm not going near him without a mask. That's something else I learnt from the Japanese."

"You'd better get out of the way, then, because I'm off to the bathroom." Robbie swung himself out onto the edge of his bed and brushed against the lilies. "Ah, what's that?"

"What's what?"

"Something dropped on my leg. Aaarrrghhh, there's another one! It's your bloody flowers - they're alive with insects."

"They look like giant earwigs."

"Get them, Susie! I've a horror of creepy-crawlies." Robbie sprang back and hit his head against the wall. "Oooowww!"

"Don't panic - they're harmless vegetarians."

"Kill them, kill them!"

"You do it, Jeffrey - I don't like squashing things."

"Neither do I. I drop a bottle over them and jiggle it about until they run into it. Bees, wasps, moths, spiders, flies - all released, unharmed, back into the wild."

"You're a veritable saint, Jeffrey - are you a Buddhist?"

"Not in an emergency, Susie."

"Then, bloody get on with it," Robbie screamed.

"It's too late, they've disappeared into the mattress. They obviously don't like the light."

"You've infected me with bed-bugs."

"They'll be African earwigs; that's where the flowers came from."

"Right, Jeffrey - it's his own fault for having his room like a rain forest. It's aroused them from their slumbers."

"I imagine they'll be more vicious than our earwigs - more ear borers."

"How come?"

"Well, here we have ordinary ants and bees, but in Africa it's army ants and killer bees. All your tropical creepy-crawlies have some deadly weapon in their arsenal."

"And they were black and yellow - Nature's warning signal."

"I'm sure I saw a spider in amongst them."

"That's even worse - I couldn't sleep easily knowing there were a pair of poisonous fangs just waiting to strike."

"What am I going to do?" Robbie wailed.

"Turn the heating down - that's my advice."

"Then, they'll probably seek out his body warmth, Susie, and they'll be hungry after being in hibernation. You're in a pretty pickle, Robbie."

"Have you a hammock and a mosquito net, by any chance?"

"Don't be ... Ooooooeeer." Robbie swayed back - "Oooowww!" - and hit his head again. "Would you mind helping me to the bathroom before you go?"

"You just did the high jump - you can walk okay."

"It's affected my sense of balance. I'm unsteady on my feet; when I stand up, the room spins about me."

"You want to get your hands on our bums."

"Please, I'm bursting." He pointed to the row of empty Lucozade bottles. "I've had to drink lots of liquid."

"All that glucose, and caffeine, and E-numbers - no wonder you're feeling strange."

"Keep your distance, Jeffrey, he'll be like an unexploded bomb with all that surplus energy stored up."

"And don't forget all the other stuff he's scoffed - he's been a fool to himself. You shouldn't mix your food - that's what gran says."

"I'm an athlete; I need plenty of reserves to call on at a moment's notice."

"You haven't been doing much athleting in bed."

"You'll be full of gas as well, with the Lucozade- it's deadly. No wonder you feel dizzy - you're your own worst enemy. You're swole up like a poisoned pup."

"Oh, I can't wait any longer." Robbie staggered a few paces, grasping at his crotch.

"Mind how you go!"

"Oooooer!" He pitched forward onto the bed and buried his face in the bag of winkles. "Aaaaarrrgggghhhh!"

"Take a deep breath - the ozone will clear your sinuses."

"Hooooorrrrrrrkk! Hooooorrrrrrrkk!"

"That's right, get it up - you'll feel better for it."

"He's cleared his tonsils, Susie, but the duvet's a bit the worse for wear."

"I'm afraid he's lost control down below as well."

We all watched a large damp patch spread down the front of Robbie's pyjamas.

"Oh, God."

"It looks like he needs a new washer in it, Jeffrey."

"It's not a pretty sight, Susie - I think we'd better leave and avoid any further embarrassment."

"I'll tell you one thing I'm sure of Jeffrey."

"What's that ,Susie?"

"I've definitely no desire to become a nurse - or a plumber."

"I'm sure you'd help someone in extremis, Susie. Is there anything not messy we can do for you, Robbie?"

"Get lost - and take your bloody winkles with you!"

He swept up the bag and drew back his arm.

"Duck, Jeffrey!"

I didn't have to - the soggy bottom gave way before he could throw it.

"Watch out!"

Plink, plink, plink, plinkety, plink, plink ...

Winkles cascaded all over the floor.

... plink, plink, plink, plinkety, plink, plink ...

"He was right, Susie, they do pong," I admitted.

"And how, Jeffrey."

Robbie stumbled forward and crushed some under his foot.

"Now look what you've done, getting all worked up."

"I'll show you 'worked up' - I'll rub your noses in them."

"Run, Jeffrey!"

Robbie launched himself after me, but was undone by a winkle with a ball-bearing like shell.

"Ooooooeeer!"

Thuuuummpppp!

"Oooooowwwwwww!"

"He's been floored by your winkles, Jeffrey."

"Can we give you a hand, Robbie?"

"No, you bloody can't." He grabbed onto the bed and hauled himself up. " Get out of my way."

"There's no need to shout."

"Bugger off! I think I've broken my ankle."

"Can I have the cube back? It was my first one, and mum bought it. I'm feeling a bit choked about leaving it behind."

Robbie hurled it across the room at me. "Take the bloody thing and go!"

"Thank you, you're almost a gentlemen."

"Now, out of my way!"

"Calm down, don't tear the rest of your hair out." Susie kicked open the door for him and dodged aside as he hopped to the bathroom.

"Don't forget we've emigrated to Australia, and you'll never see either of us again."

"That'll be too soon - you're bloody jinxes."

"There's gratitude for you - and after we had to change buses twice coming here."

"You can put back that taxi money, then."

"No way - it was legitimate expenses. Move, Jeffrey."

"Bye, Robbie, we'll let ourselves out."

"I'll get you for this."

I scooped up my mac, and we hastily exited onto the landing. "One moment he's all over us, and the next ..."

"I wouldn't like to cook his eggs in the morning - he's like the Incredible Hulk."

"We always seem to leave him, having a temper tantrum, Susie."

"Sporting types are prone to them, Jeffrey - if you only knew what I have to endure from dad."

"I hope it's safe to leave him, Susie, he still looked pretty flushed."

"We have been pulling his chain, Jeffrey."

"So we have," I smiled.

We linked arms and danced down the stairs.

 

Chapter 86

"Aaaahhh, home again, and would you believe it - a journey without any major mishaps."

"Or minor ones." Susie sank down beside me on the sofa. "We've not a hair out of place or a wig askew."

"Or a bottom pinched."

"You tempted fate picking up that twenty pence at the bus stop."

"It was a natural instinct."

"Not for Denise."

"I bent at the knees, but I'll try to suppress it in future."

"And leave the wheel trims in the gutter as well."

"We could have put it in your bag; I don't know why you made such a fuss."

"You deserve to get your bum smacked."

"I wouldn't mind sitting on your hand for a bit; I find it strangely reassuring."

I eased myself up while Susie worked her hand along the cushion. "How's that?"

"Very comforting - I feel I can finally relax. It couldn't have gone better with Robbie; those winkles did me proud."

"Every time he tries to get to grips with you, he has a disaster. The very thought of you will have him cowering like one of Pavlov's dogs."

"Didn't they slaver?"

"Someone's dogs probably cowered; they're brutal beggars, behavioural scientists. The things they get up to with monkeys; I wouldn't treat a rat that way - or Robbie."

"I just hope he's learned his lesson, and he realises I'm not the boy for him."

"Or the girl, he's looking at love from both sides now. There's a lot more toing and froing to come there, if you ask me."

"And backing and forthing."

"And upping and downing. He'll be tortured by teenage angst; he doesn't possess our maturity."

"I'm glad I've settled on you, Susie, I wouldn't want to be bothered with all that personal relationship stuff; I'd take it all too seriously."

"You say the sweetest things, Jeffrey - you're a true romantic."

"You know what I mean; you've saved me from a lot of painful heart searching."

"And trouble, Jeffrey."

"I wouldn't go that far, Susie."

"But it's been the right kind of trouble."

"And what sort's that?"

"Happy trouble, Jeffrey, happy trouble. Now, oops-a-daisy!"

I tossed the cube back to Susie. "It's sort of symbolic this, isn't it? You mindlessly create chaos, then I beaver away with my own pet algorithm and restore order to our affairs."

"It's a silly little puzzle, Jeffrey."

"To me, Susie, it's the perfect metaphor. You scramble things up, and I unscramble them."

"Don't get too cocky, Jeffrey - you couldn't do it with an egg."

"Ah, you want to discuss the second law of thermodynamics and the heat death of the universe, do you, Susie?"

"Not right now, Jeffrey, it's a topic more suitable for a late night monologue - after I've drifted off to sleep."

I lay back and rested my head on Susie's lap. "The funny thing is, I get curiously excited at the thought of being a glamorous blonde scientist, like in cheap SF movies."

"Can I be the spaceship commander?"

"That's okay - I don't mind saluting you. And you look good in a uniform."

Susie grinned, and ran her fingers over my stomach. "Pink satin suits you, Jeffrey."

"I just hope mum isn't upset with me going in her wardrobe."

"I might let you get changed in an hour or so."

"I'd better keep it on. Mum will know I've been wearing it. She won't mind if she thinks we've only been playing dress-up around the house. Fair's fair, I have offered her my leather one."

"Everyone's a winner, Jeffrey. Swapping clothes with you, will give your mum an incentive to keep her figure in trim."

"Really?"

"Absolutely - and I'll be matching bottoms with you from now on."

"That's very flattering - are you serious?"

"Totally - I'll be working for my badge in bum control to partner this." Susie turned back her lapel. "I came away with Robbie's Blue Peter badge in all the commotion. It'll be a nice little present for Mikey."

"It's not for cooking, is it, Susie?"

"Is that a hint? I could probably manage a sandwich."

"Mum makes them a special way for me."

"Does she butter the bread on the inside?"

"No, but she would if I asked her."

"I'll probably end up spoiling you just as much, Jeffrey - show me how you like them."

"I have to be careful of splashes."

"You can wear a pinny."

"Not with this dress - it wouldn't be right. I can't go down the chippy in it, either. Do you fancy a trip?"

"Haven't you anything in the fridge?"

"Not now the winkles have gone."

"Pity about those - Uncle Frank would have appreciated them."

"He likes seafood, does he?"

"He likes free food; we'll never get rid of him. Lucky me," Susie laughed. "Scrum down again, Jeffrey."

"This is the only sort of rugby I'll be playing in future, Susie."

"And me."

"I didn't know you had."

"Well, I've kicked Mikey's ball about."

"By accident I hope."

"Yes, and right on the silly pointy bit; I had toes like globe artichokes for a week. Talking of globe artichokes, would you like ..."

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat!

"Oooooohhhhh!" I sprang up and bounced to the far end of the sofa. "Get down, Susie, there's someone at the door."

"Bugger!"

"Shush! Poke your head out and have a look, but don't let them see you."

"That'll be difficult - you shouldn't have the curtains open when Denise is home, Jeffrey."

"There's a stigma to having them closed during the day."

"Who says so?"

"Gran."

"I might have known."

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat!

"Crawl under the window and have a look."

"It's probably only Jehovah's witnesses."

"If it is, tell them we don't eat brown bread." I pushed Susie off the sofa and urged her on "Keep low, hug the wall, and circle round."

"This is so undignified," Susie moaned, as she elbowed her away across the floor. "Why can't we answer the door like normal people?"

"I want to know who it is first."

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat!

"There they go again. They'll be banging on the window next."

"Hurry up, then."

Susie cautiously raised her head inside the curtain and peeked out. "It's someone in a tracksuit, Jeffrey - and he's come on a motorbike."

"Good, it doesn't sound like anyone we know."

"There's a dog in the sidecar - does that ring any bells?"

"None at all - what sort is it?"

"I can't tell; it's wearing a crash helmet. Are there any eccentrics in your family?"

"Only me - I hope he's equally harmless."

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat!

"I'd better go. I'll soon get rid of him."

"Wait, what's he look like?"

"With the goggles and everything, I can't see much - apart from a trigonometry problem of a nose."

"Go on."

"It's a nose that will abide no jests; that's some hypotenuse he has there, Jeffrey. I deduce he's a figure used to exercising authority."

"You'll have to do better than that; I need more than a nose to pick him out."

"He's holding a clipboard, and there are some clothes under his arm - and something silver dangling from his neck. Is it the vicar collecting for the jumble sale?"

"He'll get nothing here; I never throw anything away."

"Oops, he's clocked me, the snoopy beggar."

"Don't wave at him - answer the door and make a quick donation."

"After he's seen me grovelling on the floor - it'll be most embarrassing."

"Well, I can't."

"Why not?"

"There's a rumour the vicar plays kissing games at church socials. I'm not putting temptation in his path."

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat!

Phweeeeeeeee! Phweeeeeeeee!

"Now, he's bloody whistling."

"Quick, get rid of him before he has the neighbours rushing round."

Susie jumped to her feet and hurried down the hall.

Phweeeeeeeee! Phweeeeeeeee!

"A vicar with a whistling cross - whatever next?"

"No, wait a minute! I'm not in," I cried, and escaped into the kitchen as the lock clacked open. "It's ..."

"Good afternoon, I hope I haven't disturbed you."

"You're not a vicar."

"No, but you're almost right - my body is a temple. Go on, punch me in the stomach."

"What?"

"As hard as you like - I'll brace myself, and then no holding back."

"Don't, Susie," I yelled. "Remember what happened to Houdini - we don't want any more dead bodies on our hands."

"Who's that?"

"My mum -she doesn't believe in violence. She's a Quaker, and she's up to her elbows in oats at the moment."

"Ah well, it takes all sorts." Our visitor relaxed his stance and removed his goggles and helmet. "Now ..."

"I know you!" Susie frantically waved her hand behind her back. "It's okay, mum, stay there - don't spoil the dinner. It's only one of our teachers."

"Mr Carey, to be precise - sports and miscellaneous. May I come in? I'm pressed for time."

"Okaaaay." Susie stepped aside and showed our guest into the living room. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Not during the afternoon, Miss Jones."

"You know me?"

"I couldn't forget you; you're the girl who poleaxed Miss Hearnshaw."

"She tripped over my hockey stick after she whacked me on the ankle. I accepted it as a sporting incident; there was no reason for her to make such a fuss."

"Miss Hearnshaw was badly winded."

"My knee accidentally caught her in the solar plexus on the way down. She acted the dying swan, but still had enough breath to blow her whistle. I shouldn't have been sent off."

"It wasn't a first offence by all accounts, but I don't hold that against you. It gave me the opportunity to run over and demonstrate my first aid skills. Caroline was most appreciative."

"You want to watch out there. She abuses her power; she's whistle mad. It's stop-start all the time; it takes the fun out of the game."

"She has rather a forceful personality, but one has to make allowances."

"Don't make too many - that's my advice - you'll only encourage her."

"Yes, thank you," Mr Carey blushed. "Now, can we get to the matter in hand - it's urgent."

"Fire away," Susie grinned. "I'm always eager to assist with personal problems."

"I've come to see Smith."

"Who?"

"Jeffrey Smith - he lives here, doesn't he?"

"Never heard of him."

Mr Carey checked his clipboard. "This is the address I have."

"Got it off the school computer, did you?"

"Yes."

"Well, there's your explanation - it hasn't kept up with the Joneses. We're in residence now."

"Oh - Miss Armstrong in the office is usually so efficient."

"You can't blame her; we moved in after the beginning of term."

"So you'll have a forwarding address for the Smiths."

"No, they've done it all by email like we did. You've reached a dead end here. You'll have to wait until Monday."

"That's too late - I need Smith for this afternoon. I'll have to try the neighbours."

"They're a funny lot. None of them have been over to welcome us, and they didn't get on with the Smiths. You'll be wasting your time."

"Thank you, Miss Jones." Mr Carey gave her a suspicious look. "I'll bear it in mind."

"And beware of the dogs," Susie warned, as he slowly turned to go.

"Are you trying ... wait a minute ... that's Smith's photo on the sideboard." Mr Carey's eyes swept around the room. "And there's another on the wall ... and another. They wouldn't have left all those behind - what's going on?"

"He's my boyfriend."

"I thought you'd never heard of him."

"There's a surfeit of Smiths; I didn't know you meant that particular one."

Mr Carey strode over to the pictures and studied them closely. "Who's this girl in the wedding dress? She looks just like him."

"Denise is Jeffrey's twin sister."

"Isn't she a little young to be married?"

"It's her mum's gown - we were messing about."

"From these photos, they appear to be identical twins, and that's impossible."

"I touched them up to tease Jeffrey. You can't believe your eyes nowadays."

"And what have we here?" Mr Carey rifled through a pile of envelopes. "Smith, Smith, Smith, and Smith - you did say this was your house, Miss Jones?"

"You wouldn't expect the Post Office to have caught up with us yet; it's a six month job, at least."

"This is the kind of situation we discuss at our neighbourhood watch meetings. What with your strange behaviour under the window and these letters, I think I'd better speak to your mother - just to clear up matters."

"Actually, mum's not in - that's why I was being super cautious about opening the door to a stranger."

"Very commendable, if true. Who is in the kitchen?"

"It's Denise - she was trying on a party frock and got in a tizz at the prospect of someone seeing her. It's a little too sophisticated for a girl her age."

"So, she's not masquerading as a cat-burglar, like you."

"I'm dressed for the catwalk; this is the autumn look. Denise and I are junior models for a high-class couturier. We were practicing our poses when you interrupted us."

"I think we should hear what Denise has to say for herself. Will you join us, please, Miss Smith." he called into the kitchen.

"She's shy with strangers."

"Come out, Miss Smith, I'm not leaving until I see you and get a satisfactory explanation."

"Show yourself, Denise, and I'll sort it out."

I put my head round the door. "Does someone want me?"

"Oh my God, I didn't expect this!" Mr Carey goggled in amazement as I edged into the room. "You're quite the sweetheart, Smith."

"Say something, Susie."

"Denise likes to get into fancy dress. Can you guess who she is at the moment?"

"The Sugar Plum Fairy if I didn't know better."

"I'm not a fairy."

"And you'll soon have the chance to prove it, Smith."

"What?"

"I've turned a blind eye to your shirking."

"Shirking?"

"Yes, shirking - there's no other word for it, I'm sorry to say. I've gone easy on you, out of respect for Mr Bossom. He had a word in my ear, but now it's payback time."

"Payback time?"

"Don't play the innocent with me, Smith, I'm not a fool. It's your turn to do me a favour. Now, no more nonsense - it's time for your boy self to come and join us."

Mr Carey shot out his arm and snatched off my wig.

"Oooowww!"

"You leave Jeffrey alone." Susie jumped between us and pushed Carey away.

"Sorry, I didn't realise it was so firmly attached."

"I'm okay, Susie, don't hit him." I put my arm around her and faced up to Mr Carey. "What do you want?"

"An explanation would be a good start. Is there anything you'd like to say, Denise - nee Jeffrey?"

"Tragically, I'm an only twin," I huffed, and shook out my hair.

"Oh, God, it's even more girly underneath. What have you done to yourself, Smith?"

"I've had it shaped, that's all. It was getting in my eyes and making me sken."

"And what about those you-know-whats -are they all yours?"

"The top bits are; I had to push them up to do justice to the dress."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because it's mums - I want to look nice for her."

"Oh, my sainted aunt - what next!"

"I've been careful to keep it well this side of shameless, haven't I, Susie?"

"You certainly have, Jeffrey - Denise is a blushing English rose."

"Still, there's more than enough of her on show. Bossom was right - I can't have Smith displaying those in the showers."

"I hope you'll show the same understanding and not bully Jeffrey. He's a victim of circumstances beyond his control."

"Have no fear, Miss Jones, I may be a disciplinarian in the gym, but I'm broadminded about things in the wider world."

"I didn't think you'd be so sympathetic."

"It's not something I would encourage in the normal course of events, Smith, but I won't hold your little peccadilloes against you. Keep them under wraps at school, though; there's no sense tempting adolescent boys with forbidden fruit."

"I will ... and thanks."

"Not at all, Smith, I'm sure you're going to just as obliging with my little difficulty."

"Errrr ... Susie."

"I'm as flummoxed as you, Jeffrey. I can't imagine how we could help Mr Carey. Unless he wants us to fix him up with Miss Hearnshaw. I'm sure ..."

"I'll bear your kind offer in mind, Miss Jones, but this is a different problem entirely."

"It's not an affair of the heart, then?"

"Please, Miss Jones, this doesn't concern you, me, or Caroline."

"Sorry, but if it involves Jeffrey ..."

"It does. I phoned Robbie Davies to see if there'd been a miracle improvement - unfortunately, he's had a relapse. But even though he can't be on the field, the good of the team is still uppermost in his mind. He had a surprising suggestion."

"What about?"

"You, Smith," he jabbed his finger at me. "Your school needs you. You've gone from a barely possible to a highly probable since I talked to Davies. He holds your physical attributes in high regard. I only hope I didn't misunderstand him."

"You must have done; my body is virgin territory as far as Robbie's concerned. He's a man's man; we have nothing at all in common."

"I had the idea you and he were palsy-walsy. He was another one who had a word in my ear on your behalf."

"Palsy-walsy - is that rugby talk for you know what, Susie?"

"They're words that have never crossed dad's lips, Jeffrey, but there are undertones of something not quite above-board."

"It definitely has nuances."

"I'm trying to be diplomatic, Smith."

"Oh."

"It's obvious you have a schoolgirl crush on Davies."

"Did he tell you that?"

"I can put two and two together. I wondered what he meant by your surprise visit, but I never imagined you went dressed like this. Will you be coming back to school as Jeffrey Smith?"

"Yes, believe it or not, there's a perfectly rational explanation for my appearance, but I won't bore you with it."

"You're not past the point of no return yet, then. That's a relief, because Davies said you'd be eager to do your bit in our hour of need."

"When's that?"

"Three o'clock this afternoon."

"I thought we were off until Monday."

"The show must go on, Smith."

"What show's that?"

"The most important game of the year for our under-16s - the clash with Heighton. And this outbreak of Pontiac fever has left me hardly able to turn out a full side. I'm having to look in unusual places for recruits."

"I'm not really up for being a cheer leader."

"You're playing, Smith."

"Playing!"

"Yes, playing - you're my last port of call, and I'm still three boys short. I'm giving you a chance to shine. Davies tells me you were heartbroken when your little extras relegated you to the side-lines. I have to confess I didn't quite see it that way."

"And you were right - Robbie's a poor judge of character at the best of times."

"But a good judge of an athlete - he tells me you outran him the other day."

"I think he may already have had a bit of a temperature ... and a pulled muscle."

"You can't hide it, Smith, I've always known you were a flier."

"I wouldn't say that."

"Don't be so modest, Jeffrey - you can catch pigeons."

"Shush, Susie."

"There's no denying your fleetness of foot, Smith, and it's something you never lose - however you choose to dress. What's more, you look in fine fettle; you're positively glowing as Denise."

"I'm make-up happy; I can't get enough of it. Explain the situation to Mr Carey, Susie."

"Jeffrey's exploring his feminine side at the moment. Rugby's the last thing on his mind."

"That's right - I'm stuck in girly mode. My rucking days are over."

"Nonsense! What did Achilles learn when he dwelt amongst the women? Put your little diversion behind you, Smith, and don't sulk in your tent."

"I've more than a vulnerable heel. Can't you see I'm not cut out for the job like Robbie?"

"Not everyone can be an incredible hulk. Rugby's a game for all shapes and sizes."

"Isn't that football?"

"A game for pansies. We don't run around kissing each other when we score a try."

"I'm not dead set against being a cheerleader. I'm willing to give it a go if Susie is - skimpy costume and all. You'd be getting two for the price of one."

"I want you for the match. You're going to be a key man - if you'll forgive the expression."

"Didn't you say the under-16s?"

"That's right - I'm not a sadist, Smith, I wouldn't throw you in against grown-up bonecrushers."

"I'll have to disappoint you; I'm afraid I'm too old."

"I looked up your details - a birthday in September makes you officially under sixteen."

"But it won't be in the spirit of the game."

"Rules are rules. I'm following the letter of the law."

"Wait a minute, Robbie's nearly eighteen - how come he was going to play?"

"We can also go by the year a person's in. It's all very complicated, but legal."

"No, it's not - Robbie's a ringer."

"It would have been an administrative oversight. It's accepted practice; there'll be plenty overage on the other side."

"Then Jeffrey definitely can't do it; he'll be an object of desire. There's more to Denise than meets the eye; Jeffrey's having a little developmental trouble."

"I can hardly have missed that, but I'm prepared to overlook it. Boy breasts are no handicap when you can run like Smith."

"But I don't want to be showing them off - people will talk."

"You won't be the only one; I've Marwood pencilled in for the second row. His wobble when he breathes. He can hardly raise a walk, but I'm hoping he'll fall on somebody."

"Nobody would mistake him for a girl, but I've sort of got a figure - my bottom's expanding as well."

"That's all to the good; the lower your centre of gravity, the harder it will be to knock you over. You're ideally equipped."

"But it bobs up and down when I run, and my boobs bounce in time with it. Susie tells me the whole effect is quite erotic."

"Then, I'll bestow a great privilege on you - you have my permission to play with your shirt hanging out."

"That'll look like I'm offering an open invitation; they'll be falling over themselves to have a grope."

"You'll be able to power through their tackles, Smith. A well-rounded pair of haunches is where the power comes from."

"It could be dad speaking, Jeffrey."

"Don't encourage him, Susie." I frowned, before turning back to Mr Carey. "We'll be slaughtered - wouldn't it be better to call the whole thing off."

"That was my first intention, but Blenkinsopp would have none of it. He was cock-a-hoop when he found out our best players were missing. We frightened the pants of him last year and nearly won it."

"50 - 7, wasn't it?"

"We were in with a shout until they crippled Davies; they squashed our top banana."

"Jeffrey wants to steer clear of those sort of accidents."

"It was no accident - Blenkinsopp's ruthless. Thank your lucky stars he's not your sports master, Smith. Hanging bare-chested from the wall bars would have been your reward for bunking off early on Fridays."

"You know about that."

"Nothing gets past me. This is your chance to show your gratitude for my being an old softy."

"Couldn't you have the mini-bus breakdown? You'll be humiliated - a cricket score is on the cards."

"That's where you're wrong, because now the rugby boot's on the other foot. They've lost half their team as well - and it won't stop there." A triumphant smile spread over Mr Carey's face. "Struck down by salmonella - how the mighty are fallen."

"Seize the opportunity - your Mr Blenkinsopp will be more accommodating now, and happy to settle for an honourable abandonment."

"He won't get the chance, Smith, I know when I'm on a winner. Thanks to those dodgy pork pies, it'll be a bunch of lettuce loving vegetarians against my Big Mac eaters. There can be only one outcome."

"Jeffrey's a vegan."

"I'm not surprised. Get some red meat down you, son, it still may not be too late."

"Actually, we haven't had our dinner yet, so I'm not really prepared for making a great physical effort."

"All to the good - I wish I could get everyone to play on an empty stomach."

"We were on our way to the chippy."

"You can forget that - fried food is anathema for a true Olympian."

"Fish and chips never did Alf Tupper any harm."

"Who?"

"Alf Tupper, the tough of the track. What kind of games master are you? I don't suppose you've heard of Wilson the wonder athlete, either."

"Wasn't he a prime minister?"

"No, he was the man in black."

"Johnny Cash - what has he to do with it?"

"Never mind, you'll have to talk to my granddad; he inspired dad with tales of their sporting prowess."

"I knew your dad," Mr Carey smiled. "There was a real all-rounder. No doubt, you've inherited his talent."

"I take after my mum's side."

"There's plenty of your dad in you. He'll be watching from up above; you wouldn't want to let him down, would you?"

"No ..."

"That's not fair," Susie exclaimed, "it's emotional blackmail. You'll be throwing Jeffrey to the lions."

"There won't be any lions - haven't you been listening?"

"You can't be sure."

"I'd still back my little Bambi against them."

"You're mad," Susie snorted.

"With a capital M."

"Careful, Smith."

"Sorry, it's just that you look a bit sweaty. Are you sure you aren't running a temperature?"

"I'm feeling a little light-headed, but this is my big chance to put those Lord Snooties in their place, and I'm not missing it for anything."

"You're obviously not thinking clearly. You're definitely agitated. I've seen a lot of people displaying your symptoms lately."

"I'm always agitated. I can hardly get together a decent team at the best of times. You don't appreciate the difficulties I labour under."

"You mean everyone would rather play football."

"No, the three quarters girls at our place - it cuts down my options as well as providing too much of a distraction. You can't beat all boys if you want sporting success."

"Heighton have girls as well."

"Only a few token females for the school play - takes half the fun out of it if you ask me. You'd be much in demand as a leading lady at a boys public school, Smith."

"Funny as it may seem, that isn't for me."

"Jeffrey's right - they turn out psychologically warped people."

"I'm a public schoolboy myself."

"You seem almost normal; I would never have guessed."

"Only a minor one, Miss Jones," he sighed, "Chiselbury isn't in the premier league as Blenkinsopp never fails to remind me."

"There's snobbery everywhere."

"But we'll be more than equal when the ref blows his whistle this afternoon. I'm backing my misfits to deliver me a famous victory against his rabbits."

"I think you both may be taking things too seriously."

"Nonsense, it's healthy competition, that's all."

"There's no such thing for the individual, only for the species."

"Are you a communist, Smith?"

"You're a Darwinist, Susie, explain it to Mr Carey."

"Don't bother - I've no time for 'ists' and 'isms'. Do this, Smith, and you can spend games period undisturbed in the library."

"I ..."

"Wait." Susie put her hand on my arm. "We want P.E. thrown in as well - Jeffrey's gynophilia makes him a martyr to gymnophobia."

"Okay, but there's to be no more going home early. I'll have health and safety all over me if Smith gets run over in school hours."

"We accept your terms."

"Hey, hang on, Susie."

"Shush, Jeffrey, this is a decent proposal - an hour scampering around in the mud for two years freedom."

"Well ..."

"You can rely on us." Susie stuck out her hand. "Our word is our bond. I'll see Jeffrey turns up, raring to go."

"I believe you will," Mr Carey grinned, and sealed the deal with a vigorous handshake. "Now all I have to do is find two more willing volunteers."

"Have you got Slope on your list? He's a big lad."

"He's got cack-handed feet; he can't run in a straight line."

"Isn't that a desirable quality? "

"Leave the team selection to me, Smith, I don't want the school to be a laughing stock."

"He was walking as the crow flies on Sunday."

"He was drunk then, Jeffrey."

"Dissolute that's what he is - no moral fibre - I never even considered him. Instinctively knowing who has the right stuff is an essential quality in a top coach."

"Jeffrey has oodles of it, believe me, Mr Carey."

"And I'm expecting great things from you, Smith. Score a try, and you can put member of the first fifteen on your CV. I'll personally sign it - that will open a few doors for you."

"It'll certainly impress dad, Jeffrey."

"Confuse him, more likely, Susie."

"That'll be nothing new. Come on, Jeffrey, show some enthusiasm - this is a win-win situation for us."

"Is it, Susie?"

"Yes."

"We're agreed, then - here's your kit." Mr Carey passed across a bundle of clothes. "It may be on the small side; I've had to borrow it from the under-12s."

"Give me a set as well, and I'll get my little brother to play for you. He's rugby daft."

"Bring in an outsider, eh." Mr Carey stroked his chin. "Who's to know - rules are made to be broken."

"It's using your initiative; that's what you have to do in times of crisis."

"And this is a crisis - here you are - I officially enlist your brother."

"I promise you won't be disappointed," Susie grinned.

"Right, I'll be on my way. Kick-off's three-thirty at Heighton - get there half-an-hour early. We'll be having a long tactical discussion. Don't let me down, Smith."

"We won't, will we, Jeffrey?"

"You can strike me pink if I miss an opportunity like this."

"I'm glad to hear it." Mr Carey paused by the front door. "One last thing, Smith, if it's any comfort to you, you make a very attractive girl."

"Thanks."

"But just for this afternoon, leave the wig at home and go easy on the make-up."

"I'll be fully Jeffreyfied - I'm not daft."

"Any last questions?"

"Can we keep the shirts as a souvenir?"

"Certainly not, you'll return them on Monday, washed and ironed. Is that all?"

"Do you have a lot of trouble getting your dog to wear a crash helmet?"

"No, Miss Jones, he's a clever old thing - as soon as he knows we're going out, he jumps up and puts it on himself. Toodle-oo."

"Toodle-oo. Don't forget to wear your helmet - there are woodpeckers about."

"Woodpeckers?"

"You know - Ha-ha-ha-HAA-ha! Ha-ha-ha-HAA-ha!"

"You lay them - I'll sell them, Susie."

"Ha-ha-ha-HAA-ha!"

"Am I missing something?" Mr Carey frowned.

"Well ..."

"No - see you later, bye." I pulled Susie inside and hastily closed the door. "I'm in enough trouble already - let's not test his sense of humour. We went too far with Robbie, and he's having his revenge."

"Mr Carey had you on his list, anyway, Jeffrey. Sometimes I think everyone's bonkers except you and me."

"I always have, but now I fear I may be joining them."

"Cheer up, Jeffrey, I negotiated a good deal for you - and, what's more, you've got your wish to be back in trousers."

"I'll be in shorts - and that's ten times more dangerous than skirts, believe me, Susie."

 

Chapter 87

"Oooowww!"

"They're well and truly stuck, Jeffrey, and you've only yourself to blame. It's done what it says on the tin."

I peered in the mirror and brushed at my eyelashes. "They're not that noticeable without the rest of the make-up - just slightly over-luxuriant."

"I can give them a trim with the scissors. I've a steady hand; I can stand on one leg with my eyes closed."

"It's too risky, Susie, my own might disappear with them. I could end up looking peculiar for months."

"And eyelashes are a vital appendage - you don't want to get conjunctivitis. How about putting your head over a bucket of boiling water and steaming them off?"

"No, I don't want to get a blotchy face."

"Then, you've got your wish to be trapped in Denisehood. You can't say I didn't warn you."

"I wasn't to know I'd be playing rugby instead of house this afternoon. I was looking forward to giving you a few twirls in Mum's ra-ra skirt."

"What's this, Jeffrey? I thought you weren't keen on wearing your mum's clothes."

"Now, I've broken the taboo, it'd be as shame not to work my way through all her old teenage stuff."

"She hoped to hand it on to her daughter, did she?"

"I thought mum was a hoarder like me, and that's where I got it from ... but I suppose there could be more to it."

"Has she any hot pants?"

"Yes, and in skin-tight lurex."

"Well, there's always tonight - you can bop till you drop in them."

"But before then, I'll be chased all over a windswept field, and it'll be raining, and I'll end up rolling around in the mud, and they'll take it in turns to trample on me."

"It won't come to that, Jeffrey."

"Yes it will, Susie, I guarantee it. Why they bother with a ball is beyond me."

"But this time, I'll be there to cover your backside."

"I'd rather keep my shorts on, if possible."

"And you will, because we'll both be working to the same end."

"I don't want you running on the pitch and bashing anyone, Susie."

"As if, Jeffrey, I've a much better idea - you'll have a guardian angel right alongside you."

"You weren't serious about Mikey playing, were you, Susie? It's going to be awkward explaining things to him."

"The notion never entered my head, Jeffrey. He can't play against his own school."

"Oh, what if he's watching? And he's passed his pictures of Denise around the class." I flopped down on the bed in dismay. "Oh, Susie, that will be even worse - I can't be two people at once."

"I'm three steps ahead of you, Jeffrey. It won't matter if you're half-and-half this afternoon, because it's all taken care of by my master plan."

"I don't like the sound of this, Susie, your ideas are liable to have unintended consequences. You always make things more complicated than they need be."

"I've learned my lesson; this is genius in its simplicity," she smirked. "You won't be the odd one out, because I'll be on the pitch rugbying with you."

"What!"

"You heard, Jeffrey - we'll be as peas in a pod."

"Nuts in a fruitcake, more like - our double act will call for an even more convoluted explanation."

"With Marwood and the other excused games crew, for all Mikey and his pals know, we could be fielding the school hockey team."

"But what about Mr Carey and our lot?"

"Leave it to me - by the time I've finished we'll be the likeliest lads on the pitch."

"I can't let you do it, you may get hurt - or fondled at the very least."

"We can take care of ourselves, Jeffrey. No more arguments - there's no way I'd ever desert you to a pack of wild vegetarian public school boys."

"You're never lacking a mad idea, Susie."

"I'm a resourceful girl, full of cunning schemes; they come naturally to me."

"And occasionally one works. There must be a million monkeys, hammering away at typewriters in your head."

"Word processors, Jeffrey - get up to date."

"It doesn't have quite the same ring to it, Susie."

"That's your upstairs taken care of." Susie tucked in the end of the bandage and secured it with a piece of duct tape.

"It won't do them any harm, will it?"

"No, Jeffrey, they'll pop back up, pinkier and perkier than ever. My turn now - here you are - get winding."

"Are you sure, Susie?"

"Absolutely, we're doing everything together."

"I just hope you realise what you're letting yourself in for; Carey's demented enough to go along with this."

"United we stand, Jeffrey, and trust me, we won't be the ones doing the falling."

"I wish I had your confidence. There, is that too tight?"

"It's fine." Susie regarded the results of our handiwork in the mirror. "Excellent - two little boys with two little toys. How are you fixed for down below, Jeffrey?"

"I've never needed a jockstrap; I'll make do with those briefs my mum got me for cycling."

"If there is a danger of someone pulling your shorts down, isn't it a bit risky wearing girl's knickers?"

"I'm still not convinced about that - just because they lack a front flap."

"And sides."

"But they've no bows; that makes them boy's underpants in my eyes. I never liked an open door policy so don't go on about them, or you'll give me a complex."

"I'm only thinking ahead."

"I appreciate it, but that's the least of my worries. No one will lay a finger on me if my strategy works. I'll be avoiding all physical contact ... I hope."

"You're right in one respect, Jeffrey," Susie nodded, as I slipped them on, "they are strictly utilitarian."

"But a little skimpy - maybe I should wear an extra pair, just to be on the safe side."

"You know best, but they're holding everything in nicely."

"I'll go with doubling up, and so will you if you've any sense. It can be like the artic out there, with the icy blast whipping in from the sea."

"It's only September."

"Almost October, and there's the wind chill - the weather girls are always warning about it. I'm glad Pinky and Perky are well wrapped up; I wouldn't want to get frost-bitten nipples - or frost-bitten anything."

"Perish the thought, Jeffrey."

"Right, and that's another reason why we'd be better off with our hair down over our ears. Won't you reconsider?"

"Don't start that again - I've gone to a lot of trouble."

"I appreciate the effort you've made, and it'll look great when I'm in mum's ra-ra skirt, but it's not entirely suitable for the occasion."

"Nothing could be more practical - it's up there, out of the way."

"But ponytails for rugby boys - Mr Carey will have a fit."

"They're de rigueur for your top sportswomen."

"We're not supposed to be girls, strange as it may seem."

"You can be a bloody nuisance, always insisting every little detail is correct. Just think 'boy', and we'll carry it off - that's what I'm doing."

"It's difficult with my hair swish, swish, swishing away."

"It's mind over matter; it's easy-peasy once you get the hang of it. Follow my lead ..."

"Don't I always."

"I give up."

"How's that, Jeffrey?" Susie settled her shirt over her shorts.

"You're almost as flat-chested as I am, but no one would mistake you for a boy."

"Or you - you're awfully sweet as a boy dressed as a girl dressed as a boy. We'll have to brush up our Shakespeare later, but can you turn down the cute-meter a touch for now?"

"I'm thinking 'boy' as hard as I can. It's not my fault it isn't working." I had another sidelong glance in the mirror. "Are you absolutely sure a ponytail's the most suitable hairstyle for rugby Susie?"

"Will you let it drop. There's a herd of them on dad's team; that's where I got the idea."

"Not like this, I bet. Apart from looking ultra-girly, which I wouldn't mind under normal circumstances, it's an open invitation to get our heads torn off; that's the whole point of rugby."

"Tuck it down inside your collar."

"I can't - it's too high up. You haven't given me just any old ponytail, you've given me a cheerleader's ponytail."

"That's what suits your look. It goes with the lipstick, nails, and false eyelashes, which don't seem to concern you."

"Those are bad enough, but I can't do anything about them."

"And they're your fault."

"I know, but having an irresistible urge to turn cartwheels and do the splits only makes matters worse. The whole affair's going to be a fiasco, Susie."

"A lot of boys wear make-up and ponytails, Jeffrey."

"Not on the rugby field, they don't, Susie. And we might as well have not bothered battening down our Pinkies and Perkies - have you seen our bottoms? They're stretching these under-12 shorts to the limit - talk about hot pants."

"Barely-theres, the height of fashion - I think we make a very fetching couple."

"We're the spitting image of page-three girls, modelling the new season's strip."

"Speak for yourself."

"With any luck, the opposition will make a formal protest as soon as they see us."

"Why, is it against the rules to have girls on the team?"

"It must be. I've never heard of mixed rugby. Common sense must prevail; they can't all be as crazy as Carey."

"Crazy or not, Jeffrey, he might just believe you're not making a genuine effort."

"There's no 'might' about it, but what can I do?"

"Maybe you should stuff a sock down your shorts."

"Definitely not - I won't lump it, Carey will have to like it."

"It would show you've tried your best to avoid appearing more Denise than Jeffrey."

"No, it's unsightly. And never mind me, what's he going to say about you turning up as your little brother?"

"That won't be a problem, Jeffrey, I've my story ready. Now, show me how to do up these laces, professional style. Once we've got the studs under our feet, it'll be easier to walk like a man."

"How are we going from Wags to pitches?"

"We'll bike it."

"We don't want to tire ourselves out, Jeffrey; we have to conserve our energy for the main event."

"I'm not bussing it, dressed like this, Susie - I have my limits. A Wag was one thing, but now people might mistake me for an actual footballer. I'm putting my foot down - we're biking it."

"That's all very well, Jeffrey, but you should put my safety first; the roads are super dangerous for cyclists."

"You can ride on the inside."

"Two abreast annoys motorists even more, and truck drivers will be queuing up to flatten us. We could be hedgehogged under the wheels of a juggernaut and stencilled across half of Europe."

"Not if we go along the seawall."

"Then, it'll be bump, bump, bumpity-bump all the way. What about my bottom - how do you deal with a problem like my rear?"

"Keep it out of the saddle. Cycling's good for you, and not only physically - it stimulates mental development."

"Not that much - it's a lower brain function, like all balancing stuff. Chimps ride bikes - and dogs, even. "

"It's beyond a fish."

"Obviously, but a dolphin could - if it had legs. And seals are the world's best jugglers."

"They're mammals, and clever ones - especially dolphins."

"They can talk - 'You wouldn't get me on a bike' - that's what they say."

"You're grasping at straws, Susie."

"Parrots can talk and ride bikes - dinky little ones. That proves you only need a brain the size of a pickled walnut to be a cyclist."

"What about a cat, then? I've never seen a cat pushing on the pedals."

"Which proves my point."

"How?"

"They've more sense than to be coaxed onto a bike. Cats are cleverer than dogs."

"But not as clever as monkeys."

"We're going in ever decreasing circles, Jeffrey, can we drop the subject? I'll agree to wobble to Wossall; I don't really fancy bussing it."

"Why couldn't you say that in the first place?"

"Because I like discussing things with you, Jeffrey - I always learn something new."

"Thank you, Susie, and as a reward, I'll tell you about gran's kitten."

"I'm wise to your shaggy dog stories, Jeffrey."

"You'll like this one, Susie, it supports your theory of cat intelligence."

"I'm listening, but I'm not believing."

"Gran was lying awake with her eyes half-shut one morning when Puss jumped onto the bed. It crept slowly forward and put its little paw on gran's eyelid and gently pushed it up."

"If this involves the scooping out of eyeballs, you can stop right there."

"It's Disneyesque in its cuteness, Susie."

"It had better not spoil my dinner."

"They looked at each other, and Puss as if satisfied that her eye was there and safe, winked at her and went back to its basket. What's more, the little fellow never troubled itself about the matter again."

"Is that it?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's your most pointless anecdote, yet, Jeffrey."

"The more pointless things are, the more they appeal to me, Susie."

"I can't say I'm surprised."

"Even so, I thought it reflected very well on Puss's intelligence."

"I'll admit it's a very touching tale, and I'll grant you that was one smart cat. Has she still got it?"

"No, Susie, Puss's curiosity didn't stop there - he explored everywhere. He was a veritable Jacques Cousteau of the cat world."

"Interested in fish, was he?"

"Yes, Pussy dived into the well, and was never seen again."

"I'll ding your bally dong."

"Have I told you my granddad had a pig that could drive a car?"

"Enough, Jeffrey!"

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat!

"Someone's knock, knock, knocking on the door again - do your duty."

Susie sneaked a glance behind the curtain. "It's okay - it's only Mikey. Come on, let's find out why he's not at school."

"Ooohh - what's he going to think close up?" I shivered, as I followed her into the hall.

"There's no need to worry, Jeffrey, he'll be seeing double - leave the explanations to me."

"Don't I always?"

"And wise decisions they've turned out to be. Hands on hips, Denise," Susie grinned, and opened the front door.

"Jiminy Christmas!"

"Don't stand there gawping, Mikey - come in."

"What's your game - have I interrupted something?"

"Rugger - our maiden fixture's this afternoon."

"You're joking."

"Why should you and dad have all the fun? We're playing for the school against your lot."

"I didn't know there was a girls' team."

"Ours is a progressive establishment - equal opportunities for all. The call went out from Mr Carey, and we were the first to volunteer."

"You volunteer!"

"You're not the only one deeply imbued with a love of your alma mater."

"You've only been there three weeks, and you've moaned all the time."

"That was before I met Denise and got in tune with the place. We're one big happy family that pulls together in a crisis. We'll be out there with the under-16s."

"I don't believe it."

"You will this afternoon."

"Wait until Blenkinsopp sees you - he'll have none of it. He's a stickler for the rules."

"He won't know; we're our principal's boys for one matinee performance."

"You'll never get away with it. He's ex-army; he inspects our kit for any infringements before he lets us out of the changing room."

"A marionette, is he? Well, he won't be giving us the once over; we'll be late arrivals at the rugby ball."

"You look like you're in fancy dress. Where are your thingies?"

"They're lying low for the duration."

Mikey leaned in closer. "I can still see the bumps, and even if I couldn't, you won't fool anybody got up like that."

"The whole team is a bunch of odds and sods. Once we're out on the pitch, no one will be any the wiser."

"Yes, they will, and they'll be fighting each other to tackle you two. You shouldn't involve Denise in your stupid schemes - you'll get her hurt."

"Don't blame, Susie, Mikey, I'm the one who got us in to this."

"Only because she egged you on, I bet. She does the same to me, but I'm wise to her now."

"You don't need any encouragement. Why aren't you at school?"

"I came home for dinner; I'm not taking any risks. They're poisoning everyone, feeding us dodgy pork pies. The boarders are shitting themselves silly."

"We know all about it, and that's why we're in no danger; your team will be a pack of sheep, not wolves."

"There are a couple of mean buggers still up and about - I'm warning you, Susie."

"And I appreciate your concern, but don't worry, we've a few tricks up our sleeve, haven't we, Denise?"

"More than a few, I hope, Susie. Er ... Mikey, will you be cheering us on?"

"I'm sorry, Denise, I can't - I've a prior appointment."

"A what?"

"You heard, Susie, I have to attend a meeting after school."

"Who with?"

"Mr Bulstrode - it's a form thing."

"You're in detention."

"No, I'm not. It's by mutual agreement."

"You're in trouble again - does dad know?"

"He'll be there. We're having a sort of parent's evening."

"Just the three of you."

"When you're going private, that's the kind of individual attention you get."

"About what?"

"My progress."

"As in backsliding?"

"We'll be discussing my sloppy work and indecipherable handwriting - satisfied."

"You're in deep doo-doo. Dad won't stand you not trying."

"Mum's on my side; she thinks I may be like Albert Einstein, and suffer from attention deficit syndrome. How do I fake that, Susie - what is it?"

"In your case, being too lazy to google. Forget it, and wave good-bye to all your privileges - and your credit card."

"I'll let you use it if you tell me what to do."

"Ah, since you're paying, you deserve the best advice available. The psychiatrist is in: blub to Mr Bulstrode you can't concentrate because you've been wetting the bed. It'll create sympathy and embarrassment - an unbeatable combination."

"I'm not telling him that, Susie. You're bloody useless as usual. What should I say, Denise?"

"Your hand can't keep up with your brain is a good excuse for an illegible scrawl."

"His brain can't keep up with his hand would be more believable."

"It's not funny, Susie, I don't want to get chucked out and have to go to your dump. It's crap for rugby and networking."

"And what?"

"Networking - it's vital for estate agents. That's the kind of stuff dad discusses with me."

"Get away."

"Being the son and heir is a big responsibility," Mikey choked. "You don't realise the pressure I'm under, Susie."

"You've nothing to worry about. Be humble and promise to do better in future - they'll always give you one more chance. They're just ticking the boxes. They won't expel a goof who's laying a golden egg."

"Are you sure - and what about dad?"

"You must be joking! I'm not following in father's rugger boots, and look what I've got away with."

"That's because you're a girl and he indulges you. It's always the same."

"Don't mention our little adventure to him, and I'll have a word in his ear on your behalf."

"Will you really?"

"Leave it to me, I know his weak spots. And if I want to borrow your credit card?"

"Okay, but you put the money on it."

"You're learning to drive a hard bargain," Susie smiled.

"I'm a man now, and just to show I'm looking out for my sister, here's a free word of warning for you. Watch out for Coker."

"Who's Coker?"

"The bastard who blacked my eyes - Kipper Coker - you won't smooth-talk your way out of his clutches."

"Then, we'll pay particular attention to him, won't we, Denise?"

"I wouldn't be at all surprised, Susie."

"This is true love, Jeffrey - here I am in your inner sanctum, and you haven't once said 'don't touch that'."

"You may be impetuous, Susie, but you aren't clumsy. I'd even trust you with granddad's birds' egg collection."

"Isn't that illegal?"

"I think they qualify as antiques."

"Like some of these bikes."

"You can have the pick of them, Susie - which one do you fancy?"

"The one with the softest saddle, Jeffrey."

"That'll be my Chinese bike."

"Aren't they all?"

"This isn't a badged model; it's genuine Chinese from when they were real communists - 'Five Rams', see." I pointed under the handlebars. "Back then, that may have been the equivalent of a Rolls-Royce over there. I wouldn't be surprised if it's a collector's item."

"You mean junk. How did you come by it?"

"I got it for a pound at the police auction, and they threw in a kiddie's bike with it - I gave that away."

"It's a pity it wasn't a rickshaw. I don't think I'll be comfortable riding a fifty pence bike, Jeffrey."

"It's as good as new - almost. I would have liked to swap the pedals, but they've a smaller thread than ours."

"That's because the Chinese have small feet."

"Really?"

"It's a little-known fact, and they can't drink cow's milk either - something else they have in common with you."

"Have they enormous bottoms as well? I changed the original saddle; it would have seated a hippopotamus."

"Jeffrey! I hope that's not a none too subtle barb."

"No way, Susie." I bent down and brought out the saddle from under the bench. "Look."

"Gee, Jeffrey, what a whopper. I've never seen anything that size on the 'Big Lads' stall in the market. Can I have it to give dad as a present?"

"Be my guest, Susie, but I didn't think your dad had a bike."

"He hasn't, but it's the thought that counts. It'll make up for missing out on the driving gloves."

"Which he knows nothing about."

"But I do, and I felt his disappointment for him. I'm sensitive to other people's emotions - it's one of my finer qualities."

"Well, it won't help you this afternoon. Be prepared, we're on our way to muddy mayhem."

"Cheer up, Jeffrey, a splendiferous debut awaits us."

"That was a bracing ride, Susie."

"Into the wind and spray all the way - my thighs are burning." Susie rested her bike against the wall and rubbed her legs. "You do it deliberately, Jeffrey."

"What?"

"Go fast enough, so I can just keep up."

"I thought I was matching my pace to yours. Anyway, you shouldn't complain, it helps to prevent cellulite. I read it in this month's Beautiful Brides."

"No you didn't."

"I might have done. Skin like uncooked tripe is a widespread problem among supermodels."

"So is falling over from exhaustion."

"Stop moaning - we're here now, and your legs haven't dropped off."

"They're all wobbly, though, and I'm not thinking of myself; I want to be in tip-top condition to look after you. Rugby can be a rough old game; sometimes, dad can hardly get out of bed on Monday morning."

"He should take a hot bath in Epsom salts; that's another supermodel tip."

"If you keep on like this, Jeffrey, I'll leave you to fend for yourself when Stephanie asks you who your favourite underwear designer is."

"Janet Reger - I'll buy us some of hers for Christmas."

"Don't distract me, Jeffrey, I have to concentrate on being a Marks and Spencer boy for you this afternoon."

"I appreciate your devotion, Susie, but maybe you should think again."

"My mind's made up - we'll be David and Jonathan out there."

"Oh, we're not changing our names again, are we? I've had enough of that."

"I was speaking metaphysically, Jeffrey, and metaphorically."

"And metamorphically."

"That as well. Now quit gabbing, and help me up."

I hoisted Susie's bike onto the second level, and we crossed over to where the school grounds met the sea defences.

"There it is - a notoriously Spartan establishment in the North of England where the drains block at high tide. I don't envy Mikey his lot, Susie."

"It is a gloomy old place, Jeffrey."

"It was the estate of the local Lord of the Manor before he went bankrupt building the town."

"Dad's says you can't lose investing in bricks and mortar."

"He did. He was left with a railway dead-end when engines became powerful enough to get over Shap."

"You have to pay close attention when you're dealing with improbables and impossibles, Jeffrey."

"Definitely, Susie, it's a lesson for us all. Come on, this way."

We turned off the seawall onto the public footpath that ran alongside the playing fields.

"Did you deliberately plan on sneaking in by the back door, Jeffrey?"

"Yes, Susie, the less opportunity they have for studying us, the better."

"Don't worry, we'll blend in perfectly. We look just like those boys out there on the pitch."

"From a quarter of a mile away. Wait until we get up close and personal; we'll be the objects of some fascination. We're best avoiding them if we can - let's circle around."

We wheeled our bikes through a gap in the fence and started across the school grounds.

"What's this big wall doing in the middle of nowhere - is it where they shoot deserters?"

"It's part of the firing range."

"I thought Mikey was kidding - a gun and a credit card - we'll have to pull our fingers out, Jeffrey, or he'll have a car before me as well. Any ideas for a good money making scheme?"

"I had an eerie experience near here, Susie."

"How about ..."

"You wouldn't believe it ..."

"I wonder if we could sign up to be mystery shoppers."

"It made my blood run cold."

"Are you attempting to divert me, Jeffrey?"

"Yes, one crackpot scheme at a time, please."

"Go on, then, I'll bite."

"Early one morning ..."

"As the sun was rising ..."

"Just listen. I heard a piper piping."

"A piper piping?"

"A lament - he emerged from the mist, decked out in Scottish costume. Tam-o'-shanter, kilt, sporran - the whole works."

"What did you do, Jeffrey?"

"I kept on running, Susie."

"Scaredy cat."

"I ran back the same way."

"And?"

"He'd disappeared."

"Was it the Scottish country dancing chap from school?"

"No."

"So this place is haunted, is it?"

"Every October 31st, by a pallid lady."

"But not a phantom bagpiper."

"No."

"That's a bit of an anti-climax, Jeffrey."

"I thought it was worthy of mention."

"Hardly, 'Hammer House of Horror', though."

"The laird of MacSporran, playing 'Don't sit on my Jimmy Shand's', at four o'clock in the morning, up on the seawall is something out of the ordinary."

"Another of history's little mysteries."

"Not quite - there was a picture of someone very like him in the local paper a month or so later. He was fighting fit again after his double hernia and available for bookings at clubs, weddings, and funerals."

"A mundane explanation, Jeffrey."

"I was relieved I hadn't imagined the whole thing, Susie, and I learned an important lesson from reading the article."

"What was that?"

"Keep your legs together when playing the bagpipes."

"And not only then, Jeffrey as we may be about to find out."

 

Chapter 88

"Hold your ponytail, Susie, we've plenty of time."

"Shape yourself, Jeffrey, there's Mr Carey over by the changing rooms. Being bright and early always creates a good impression."

I locked our bikes to the drainpipe of the cricket pavilion, caught up with Susie, and drew her into the wall.

"Let's continue to proceed with caution, and take this one sidestep at a time. Carey's pacing up and down doesn't bode well for our reception."

"Are you feeling a certain coolness of the feet, Jeffrey?"

"Among other bits and pieces - but that's a minor problem compared with the explaining I'll have to do."

"No one knows you here, and Mikey's out of the way, so he won't be introducing you to his pals. It'll be plain sailing once we're on the pitch and flying down the wings."

"Before that, our side may have some awkward questions about my appearance, and Old Harry will think we're taking the Michael. There may be an unpleasant scene when he sees your idea of rugby boys."

"What do you mean? I'm walking tall. I feel very butch in your boots; I can't wait to give the ball a hefty wallop. It'll be heaps better than thrashing thin air with a hockey stick."

"Speak for yourself, Susie."

"You can't fool me, Jeffrey; you're looking forward to our little adventure. You love sharing your boyish interests with me."

"This has never been one of them, but I'm not arguing. Give Carey a wave and get him over here so we can have a private interview. If he's any sense, he'll realise his mistake and send us packing."

"You yoo-hoo, you know him better than I do, Jeffrey."

"Yes, and I'm not jumping up and down, whirling my ponytail about. I don't want to put any more ideas into his pointy little head."

"You're safe, Jeffrey, he has a mad pash for Miss Hearnshaw, and it won't go unrewarded. She let him massage her stomach for ages - and she was moaning all the time - and so was he."

"Any man who rides around with a helmet-wearing dog in his sidecar has a penchant for the unusual. I'm taking no chances - get yoo-hooing."

"The things I do for you, Jeffrey," Susie snorted, and began bouncing up and down, waving her arms. "Yoo-hoo, Mr Carey, yoo-hoo, yoo-hoo."

He turned, stared, and dawning recognition didn't bring a sunny smile to his face.

"Stay there!" He thrust out his arm, looked around, and then broke into a run.

"He's none too pleased, Susie," I groaned.

"You're right, Jeffrey, and another thing you're right about is the shape of his head - it is pointy. With that bummer of a haircut, it looks like he's had it stuck up a giant pencil sharpener."

"Shush - he's almost upon us."

"Shoulders back, nose in the air, Jeffrey, don't slouch. Pretend you're on the catwalk, ready for the big show."

"What the ..." Mr Carey pulled up short, blinked, and gawked.

"Smith and Jones reporting for duty as ordered, sir," Susie chirped.

"Bugger me sideways!"

"Cometh the hour, cometh the boys. Pop your eyeballs back in - this is the best Jeffrey could do."

"And what about you? You're both as bad. You're not your brother."

"I could be. How do you know?"

"No more of the identical twins nonsense, please."

"Jeffrey is a textbook case of dual personality."

"But you're not."

"We're both Jekyll and Hydes, but in a nice way - whatever dad says."

"This is no time to discuss personality disorders. Why are you dressed like that?"

"I forgot this is the school Mikey goes to. I'm a girl of my word, so I've stepped into the breach in his britches. These under-12 shorts fit like an over snug glove - what more proof of my commitment do you want?"

"Your hair ..."

"You didn't expect us to chop it off, did you?"

"No, but couldn't you have chosen a less provocative style."

"I modelled it on Miss Hearnshaw."

"There's no comparison - it adds to Caroline's natural air of authority. And aspirate when you say her name - it's Hearnshaw, not Earnshaw. Let's hear those haughty aitches."

"You mean as in Herne the Hunter, and not urn a thing of beauty."

"Miss Jones!"

"Sorry, but stop complaining, we've gone to a lot of trouble for you. We restricted ourselves to a light lunch, and we're bound up like mummies under these shirts. The cost in crepe bandages alone - tell him, Jeffrey."

"Pinky and Perky ..."

"Say no more, Smith, I don't want to be kept fully informed of your arrangements. I'm just glad to see you've deflated, but you still look like something off the cover of Sugar. Didn't I warn you about wearing make-up."

"I'm stuck like this. I had an unfortunate accident with a tube of glue - it was mislabelled."

"Jeffrey could probably sue."

"It's not my fault. If anything, I deserve extra credit - I've still turned up, even though I'm likely to be an object of some derision."

"A likely story, and why involve Miss Jones? I'll have double trouble getting you past Blenkinsopp."

"Susie insisted on being here to take care of me, when I couldn't fully de-Denise myself."

"It's all for one and one for all with us. Don't worry, we won't let the school down; we're really up for the fight."

"Hearing that brings a tear to my eye and a lump to my throat. If only I could instil that do or die spirit in the rest of the team."

"Hang on, we may be doing, but we're not dying over a game of rugby. We're looking after each other and nobody else."

"You'll change your tune when you get out there with the scent of blood in your nostrils."

"Well, it won't be our blood; you can bank on that."

"That's the attitude, Miss Jones; your spunk puts my other recruits to shame. I was having doubts, but you've made up my mind - I'll risk the pair of you."

"Didn't I tell you I'd fix it, Jeffrey."

"Yes, thanks, Susie."

"But you're both too pretty-pretty - we don't want any objections before we get under way."

"It's not the Olympics - they won't be giving us a sex test. Tell Mr Blenkinsopp we're artistic boys."

"Come here." Mr Carey bent down and scooped up a ball of mud. "Hold still."

"Aaaww!"

"It's only a bit of sludge. Your turn now, Smith."

"Aaaww!"

"That's better - it's not perfect, but you're as ready for the fray as you'll ever be."

"Angels with dirty faces that's what we are," Susie smiled.

"I hope we can both run fast enough to keep out of trouble."

"I've no doubts on that score, Smith."

"I have - we'll be prime targets. Just look at us - we'll never get away with it."

"You're not too bad up top, but the bottoms are a bit of a giveaway. Is that all your own, Smith?"

"I do a lot of cycling."

"Can you clamp those cheeks together, and make it a bit less noticeable."

"I can't run with a clenched bum."

"You may have a point, but isn't there some way you could be more discreet about it?"

"Not really."

"Don't blame, Jeffrey - that's what comes of supplying us with kiddie gear instead of baggy shorts; it's obvious you hadn't thought this through properly."

"I didn't realise Smith was so well-endowed, Miss Jones, and I never contemplated you taking part. We may have more of a problem than I thought."

"You're making too much of a fuss about our posteriors. Everyone on dad's team has a big bum; he reckons they're a major asset."

Mr Carey deliberated for a moment. "I suppose it might work to our advantage - a girl's bottom won't be such a distracting novelty to our boys."

"That's not been our experience, has it, Jeffrey?"

"Yours certainly fascinates me, Susie. And my own as well - I wonder if that's normal."

"I'm no expert in these matters, Smith."

"I am. It's all to do with ..."

"That's enough, Miss Jones." A look of apprehension flitted across Mr Carey's face. "We'd better drop the subject - the enemy approaches."

"I'll ..."

"Not now, here comes Blenkinsopp - leave the talking to me."

"What was that?"

"Nothing - Jeffrey was just whistling a happy tune in my ear."

"Get beside me - and be seen and not heard."

We turned and saw an upright figure, in a deckchair blazer and with a swagger stick under his arm, marching towards us.

"Hey, he's wearing shorter shorts than we are - he's not playing, is he?"

"Blooming heck, they're made of leather."

"And they're nearly cutting him in half."

"Say no more, Jeffrey, I've got his number."

"Will you be quiet, Miss Jones, and remember you're representing the school. Don't let me down with any loose innuendo."

Blenkinsopp came to a smiling stop and clicked his heels. "What-oh, Carey, I've just had a shufti in the changing rooms; you're scraping the bottom of the barrel. I'm expecting we'll run up a hundred against you."

"Empty vessels make the most noise, Blenkinsopp. My lot are all red-blooded meat-eaters; it's not too late if you want to concede."

"No chance, the spine of my team is intact - a backbone always trumps a wishbone," he gloated. "We can carry a few passengers and still see off your bunch of invertebrates."

Mr Carey clasped us around the shoulders. "You've nothing like these two. They're my secret weapons - little demons in the tackle and blessed with electric pace."

"They do look more promising." Blenkinsopp ran his stick across my chest and down my arm. "You're a lithe looking pair of late developers. Has Mr Carey promoted you from the under-14s?"

"No, Mr Blenkinsopp."

"It's Major Blenkinsopp, if you please - I like to maintain protocol."

"Oh, sorry, but we only salute generals."

"Or two colonels."

"Or four coconuts."

"Or eight clowns."

"Or sixteen blinking fops."

"Don't be cheeky," Blenkinsopp spluttered. "And get your hair cut." He reached round and flicked Susie's ponytail.

"It's the source of our speed and strength - just you wait and see. You tamper with it at your peril."

"Boys should look like boys, not houris."

"Houris? You don't mean ..."

"Exotic dancing girls. When I was in ... I can't say where exactly - official secrets act. I could be summoned back to duty at any moment; I'm on the active reserve list."

"What a coincidence - so were we, but we've already had our call-up," I smiled.

"When you get back into the thick of things, would you rather be a general with an eagle on your shoulder, or a private with a chicken on your knee?" Susie grinned.

Blenkinsopp's eyes popped and his ears quivered. "This is all in extremely bad taste, Carey, and rank insubordination. I hope you'll discipline these two."

"Sorry, Major, it's just high spirits on their part, but you can rest assured they'll be on boot duty for the rest of the term."

"And it's no more than they deserve. Let's see if they're still so bolshie, after an hour's rucking with my boys." Blenkinsopp slapped his stick under his arm, turned on his heel, and marched away.

"Well done," Mr Carey beamed, "we're one up in the psychological battle. I'll put the boot cleaning on hold."

"And the rucking - we want a free roaming role."

"I have a more sophisticated plan in mind, Smith."

"Which is?"

"All in good time - wait here until I've sorted out the rest of my motley crew. The changing room is no place for you - or you Miss Jones."

"We'll follow your orders to the letter, sir. Those who are about to vie salute you."

We clicked our heels, saluted, and waved him off with our ponytails.

"Thank you, I appreciate the gesture, but don't do that to Mr Blenkinsopp," he warned, before hurrying away, and leaving us to our own devices.

"My dad had a dog called Major, Susie," I mused, as we relaxed against the wall.

"Did you salute him, Jeffrey?"

"Not after he knocked me down downstairs."

"Did you take your revenge?"

"I was only a toddler - he was bigger than me."

"Where's Major now?"

"Under the rhubarb patch - it flourished as never before."

"I knew Prince wasn't the first dog you'd disposed of."

"Major died peacefully of old age."

"That's irrelevant. It's exactly as I thought - you suffered an early dog related trauma."

"I have a falling dream now and again, that's all."

"Everyone does - it means ..."

"This isn't the time or place to discuss our dream diaries, Susie. The important thing is to stay awake this afternoon, and keep our feet on the ground. That way no one will land on top of us."

"Dad says ..."

"Hi, am I late?" A shrill voice interrupted our tactical discourse. "Have they called it off?"

We turned and saw a barrel-like figure rolling towards us.

"This is Marwood, I presume, Jeffrey. Is he wearing a skin-suit?"

"Just another who's had to squeeze into under-12 kit, Susie. Hard luck, Marwood," I sympathised, as he juddered to a halt. "You're in plenty of time for the hostilities."

"Carey's mad," he gasped. "I've had a doctor's note for athlete's foot since the beginning of term."

"The rugby player's curse."

"Too bloody right. I'm not supposed to wear woolly socks or do anything that raises a sweat. I have to keep my feet completely dry."

"Is that talcum powder coming through your boots?"

"It's special stuff, but I'm sure my big toe's turning septic. It feels squishy; I could get gangrene if I'm not careful."

"I wouldn't want to be in your shoes; you're showing real guts doing your bit for the school like this."

"Thanks, Smithy, and you're looking prettier than ever."

"Yes, well ..."

"Is that how you tried to get out of it - dressing up as a girl?"

"Not exactly."

"You've made a good job of it - you look like sisters. What did Mr Carey say?"

"He couldn't be persuaded - the same as with your feet."

"Are you playing too?" he nodded at Susie.

"He's so desperate, he press-ganged us both."

"But he's agreed I'm excused games and P.E. after this. Tell him you want the same deal; you'll never be in a stronger negotiating position."

"Do you think he would?"

"I'll drop a hint, and then you can sound him out."

"I like you, Smithy," Marwood beamed, "I always have. You'll be pleased to know, you're not on my list of people to get."

"Er ... thanks ... that's a relief, isn't it, Susie?"

"Yes, but how about me?"

"You're Smithy's girlfriend, so you'll be okay when the day comes."

"What day's that?"

"The day I start on the bins."

"Bins?"

"Refuse disposal operatives have sweeping powers - I'm going to make my tormentors lives a misery."

"There's a lot of competition for those jobs."

"Dad's a shop steward and granddad's a foreman - plus three uncles are drivers and two aunts are in the office. I'm down to be a junior executive. If people don't want their rubbish piling up for weeks, they'd better not cross me."

"We'll bear it in mind, won't we, Jeffrey?"

"We'd be nice to you anyway," I smiled at Marwood. "Mr Carey is the one you should share your plans with. And here's your chance - he's coming back."

"Keep it to yourself about my list - it's still a secret."

"Our lips are sealed."

"On your way, Marwood - get over there with the rest of the team."

"I want to talk to you about my feet - there have been new developments. I've a zit up my nose."

"No excuses - move it. I have something personal to discuss with these two."

"How about including Marwood in my amnesty?"

"You should have kept that to yourself; I can't keep making exemptions."

"Go on, he's a martyr to his hormones like me."

"If we win, and he plays his part - I can't say fairer than that. So you'd better practice your scrumming, Marwood. Remember - keep low, grip the prop's shorts, and use your weight. Now scoot."

"I won't forget this, Jeffrey," Marwood called over his shoulder. "You're both invited to our next angry sausage weekend. And you can call me Brian, and leave the lid up at your house."

"What was that all about?"

"His family are big in the bin business. Keep in with him or you'll go on their blacklist."

"Do you think they'd get rid of a three piece suite for me?"

"We'll see to it if everything turns out right."

"Just to be sure it does, Miss Jones, stick these socks down your fronts. I've noticed you're both lacking in the gentlemen's department."

"Forget that," Susie snorted, "we're not demeaning ourselves. What you see is what you get."

"Then make yourselves scarce until kick-off. Blenkinsopp's coming over again, and I don't want to give him any excuse to postpone the game. He's lost another three first choices - with more to come, I shouldn't wonder."

"It's windy out in the open; my peripherals are already going numb."

"You'll be okay once you're running around. Shoo, before he gets here." Carey waved us away, and moved off to intercept Blenkinsopp.

"We'll make that Major eat his shorts. Up the school! I can hear the scent of victory in my bones, How about you, Jeffrey?"

"You're in danger of getting carried away, Susie."

"We'll go and give the opposition the once over, Jeffrey - we may have nothing to fear."

"Try not to rub anyone up the wrong way, Susie, I'm all for a mutual non-aggression pact. I'll be content with surviving and a share of the spoils."

"That's a defeatist attitude, Jeffrey, and a wrong one. If you want a draw, play for a win. Let's follow dad's example, and start with a few mind games."

 

Chapter 89

"Psyched out many gorillas, have you, Susie?"

"You're right, Jeffrey, there are a few hairy legged specimens mixed in amongst them."

"And well-built into the bargain - look at that."

A beefy boy ended his kicking practice by dispatching a ball high between the posts.

"They don't seem short of lineout specialists, either."

"No way are they all under sixteen."

"Or vegetarians - they're not quite what I was expecting."

"Are you feeling a frisson of unease, Susie?"

"Pre-match nerves are a good thing, Jeffrey - ask dad."

"I'd rather not."

"The bigger they are ..."

"The harder they hit."

"Don't worry, I'd bet on you to outrun them. They look as if they've overindulged in the fruits of the tuck shop."

"And midnight feasts in the dorm."

"They're sybarites - too sleek and well-fed to be top-class athletes. They won't be able to lay a hand on a pair of wick young things like us."

"We've seen enough, Susie, let's not enter their territory." I took her arm, as the group of boys started to move in our direction. "Casually wheel to the left, as if we've finished our pitch inspection."

"Too late, Jeffrey, another pack are coming up from behind - they're cutting off our retreat."

We tried to change course, but they closed the circle around us. "I hope they aren't planning to play the farmer takes a wife, Susie."

"We're mysterious beings from another planet to them, Jeffrey. It's harmless public schoolboy curiosity about the opposite sex."

"But we're supposed to be the same sex," I reminded her, as they closed in.

"Don't panic, leave it to me," Susie whispered, when the throng of gawping boys finally came to a halt. "I'll soon set them straight."

"Hello! Hello! Hello!" The largest and reddest faced lad stepped forward. "Who have we here?"

"What-oh, fellows, we're just checking out our studs. It's a bit boggy under foot for our backs to show their true paces; our forwards will revel in it, though."

"Pinch me, Bolsover, I must be dreaming."

"You're not, Coker, it really is a pair of bunnies," his pumpkin faced friend leered.

"They're a bit sparse up top, but not lacking in the bum department."

"Yeah, the Cod Heads may be crap at sports, but we haven't any mascots to match these."

"The bloody oiks are one up on us there."

"Get out your pom-poms, girls, and let's see you in action."

"We're boys and we're playing," Susie glared.

"You're what?"

"We're last minute substitutes, and we look more the part than your crowd - members of the poetry society, are they?"

"You cheeky young tarts!"

"Manners, Bully, our friends were so anxious to meet us, they've rushed here from the beauty parlour, and forgotten to take off their mud-packs."

"One's still wearing her lipstick, Kipper."

"No, I'm not. It's a smear of Vaseline to protect against the salt air."

"It's red."

"It's tinted. It's a special formula so I can see where I've put it. I have to be careful not to miss a bit; I'm prone to chapping."

"And chafing, with those shorts - or are they hot-pants?"

"These are hand-me-ups; we had to borrow our kit from the under-12s. It's a bit threadbare and faded, but we're used to making do - ours isn't a privileged school like yours."

"That's right, Jeffrey and I have been conscripted to play because we were the only ones with studs in our boots."

"Hey, Kipper, Jeffrey fancies you; she's batting her eyelashes at you like billy-ho."

"I'm blinking."

"Blinking lovely - I'd do you - and your friend."

"We're both boys."

"And that's why you're wandering around got up like a floozy, fluttering away for all you're worth."

"I have to wear them for health and safety reasons - my eyelashes dropped out."

"Did they buggery."

"It's a well-known medical condition; I got these on prescription."

"Bollocks!"

"It is not."

"Don't be ashamed, Jeffrey, tell him the truth - you're a trichotillomaniac."

"A what?" Coker goggled.

"I have a compulsion to pull out hairs."

"And not only his own, but other people's."

"And from the most painful spots - you don't want to tangle with me in a scrum."

"I'm still up for doing you. I like girls with long pink nails."

"They're on prescription as well; I have to wear them as part of the cure. They make it impossible for me to pluck."

"And what's your excuse for the ponytail?"

"She's such hot stuff, her boyfriends need to get a firm grip or she'll buck them off," Bolsover sniggered.

"Ignore them, Jeffrey, they're a disgrace to their school. I expected so much more from the pupils of such an august establishment - especially after our experience with the Saint Heloise girls."

"No one's safe from public schoolboys, Susie."

"So you're bunny Susie - you don't think you're a boy."

"I'm a boy named Sue, and you know how mean and ornery he was. My dad's a top rugby player - so watch out - the game's in my genes. I know all the tricks of the trade."

"And I've read up on the theory of the game. You won't be able to cope with our scientific approach."

"What's more, I've studied the rugby bible - 'Tom Brown's Schooldays'. I've got the low-down on you upper class wallahs."

"I thought you couldn't get into it, Susie."

"It was the first book dad ever read to me at bedtime, Jeffrey. I got him to skip the boring bits and concentrate on the violence."

"It was all a bit too harsh for me; I quit at the roasting. I'm more of a Billy Bunter fan."

"Now I know who they are," Coker's left hand man leered. "It's Bobbie Cherry and Frankie Nugent, the girly boyfriends."

"You're spot on, Clappy, I wouldn't mind having some ballet lessons with these two."

"Is that toff slang for you know what, Jeffrey?" Susie whispered.

"How would I know? That's not the kind of thing that went on at Greyfriars - you'll have to ask Mikey."

"If you're boys, why have you something missing from inside your shorts?"

"We're prepubescents - but precocious with it. We're two years ahead of everyone intellectually, and two years behind physically."

"And we've risen off our sick bed to come here - we've had German mumps. It strikes you in the doodahs, and they retreat to a place of safety."

"They'll only come out for one of my gran's bread poultices."

"We've lost all feeling down there, but it hurts like hell when we piss."

"And it comes out blue."

"I thought it was Pontiac fever you lot had."

"That too - we were probably the carriers. We've just come back from an overseas trip."

"You'd better keep well away from us; we're probably still infectious on close contact."

"I think we're prepared to take the risk, aren't we, boys?"

"Not half - I bet they can't wait to roll around in the mud with us."

"A couple of Lolitas - that's what they are."

"We're no such thing," Susie spluttered. "Virtue is one of our many maidenly virtues. Anyway, we've no interest in callow youths like you; the truth is we're over sixteen - we shouldn't really be playing."

"And you're girls - but we don't mind. We won't be raising objections on either count. We might be raising something else, though."

"An answer to a maiden's head," Clappy snickered. "Oh, hold me, precious."

"Your precious what," the gang chorused in response.

"Control yourselves," Susie scowled, as they fell about laughing. "Don't look, Jeffrey."

"Down boys," they brayed, and slapped their crotches.

"Make the most of it, because your talents will be lying doormat by the time we've finished with you."

"You won't be so cocky after a ruck or two," Coker threatened, when he recovered himself. "'Expugnate et Pungite' - that's the team's motto."

"You tell them, Kipper."

"Do you oiks want me to translate?"

"No thanks, it won't be necessary," I sniffed. "I've received a fine classical education. Cogitate altiora to you."

"Well said, Jeffrey, we won't descend to their level."

"Just what I like - girls too polite to refuse me sex."

"We'll forget our manners on the pitch - our game will surprise you. You've thrown down the giblet, and we're going to stuff you with it, turkey face."

"Let's not get carried away, Susie, it is only a game."

"We owe them at least a couple of black eyes, Jeffrey."

"You're welcome to try, but I may forget you're a lady."

"We won't be taking any prisoners, either. You'll be a sore bear with no head when we've finished."

"Let's get them now, Kipper."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Calm down, girls, Bully's only joking. We'll go easy with you; we've plans for you after the match."

"If you survive that long."

"Shut up, Bully, you'll scare off the lovelies. I'm looking forward to giving them the bumps in the showers."

Phweeeeeeee! Phweeeeeeee!

"Someone's trying to attract your attention; I think you're wanted for kit inspection - button up."

"Bugger Blinkingshorts and his little whistle," Bolsover snorted.

"Sorry, we have to go, Susie and ... I can't keep calling you Jeffrey," Coker smirked. "What's your real name, sugar?"

"She's Flora, but don't spread it around, or your Major will ban us. You don't want that, do you?"

"Definitely not - the next time we meet we'll be tugging on your ponytails. Come on, lads, it's time for Blenkinsopp's final rantings. Don't start without us girls," he laughed, and led his guffawing gang away.

We set off in the opposite direction, back to the shelter of the cricket pavilion.

"I think we failed with our psyching out, Susie."

"Don't worry, Jeffrey, we'll run rings round them. I've seen more brains in a pork pie."

"They did favour the physical -and in more ways than one. Bully Bolsover couldn't hide his excitement."

"Neither could Kipper Coker - there's a name that takes some getting your tongue around."

"I hope 'Kipper' refers to the flatness of his feet, Susie."

"It seems unlikely, Jeffrey - he was the best athlete among them."

"I suppose it could be the smell, but it's not an attractive prospect either way."

"He looked like he hit every branch of the ugly tree on the way down. I'll take great pleasure in settling Mikey's score with the posh yobbo."

"He surprised me with his command of the classics, Susie; I was expecting a more Anglo-Saxon outburst."

"Don't keep me in the dark, Jeffrey - what does 'Expugnate et Pungite' mean?"

"'Subdue and Penetrate' - there's still time for you to make a graceful exit, Susie."

"Never, Jeffrey."

"Be extra careful, then. Like gran says, never wrestle with a pig, you get dirty - and besides, the pig likes it."

"I suppose there is a good chance they'll play a different game to rugby, and come to seize our cherries and not to daze us. We'll have to watch our backsides, Jeffrey."

"I certainly will, Susie. 'Defendite vestri Posteri' is my motto."

"Duty calls, Jeffrey."

"Harry Carey calls, would be more accurate." I looked across to where he'd led the team out under the posts. "Slow down, Susie, the less time our lot have to ask awkward questions about me, the better."

"I've thought of a good cover story, Jeffrey."

"Just keep it simple - no unnecessary embellishments."

"As if ..."

"Stop fraternizing with the enemy and come over here."

I trailed behind, and let Susie skip up to him with a big smile on her face.

"We were doing your job for you, checking out the opposition. You'd be well within your rights to lodge a protest; they're not all under sixteen."

"I don't want to open that can of worms, Miss Jones."

"You'd be on a winner." Susie turned to me for support. "We noticed something peculiar about their appearance, didn't we, Jeffrey?"

"You mean heads disappearing directly into shoulders."

"Exactly - that's a sure sign of far advanced puberty."

"Necks are for namby-pambies. I wish I had a few like them. I've had to compromise my strict sporting principles to put a team together."

"Is that why we're playing with girls on our side, sir?"

"I'm afraid so, Parrott." He put his arm round Susie and me. "To make up the numbers, I've had to accept these brave volunteers from the distaff side. I hope you'll be inspired in the defence of the fair sex."

"Who's that? I don't know her. She looks like Smith's twin sister."

"That's because it is Smith, Rotherham, you dope. Get some glasses."

"Then, why is he wearing make-up and a ponytail, Parrott? Answer me that."

"He's out of uniform. This is probably how he likes to dress at home. Am I right, or am I right, Smith?"

"Not all the time - Susie can explain."

"Jeffrey's being sponsored for Children in Need."

"It's a bit early for that, isn't it?"

"We're doing a complicated act together and we have to practice every day."

"Is that why you've let your hair grow out, Smithy?"

"Partly, I don't want to make a fool of myself."

"You're well on the way, Smith, I knew there was something funny going on when my little sister fancied you. She's weird - she spends her time mooning over girly-boy posters."

"Shut up, Polly, Jeffrey's cute - and he'll be even cuter in a mini-skirt and high-heels."

"You're a bender, Geller, and lay off the 'Polly'."

"Or else?"

"Never you mind - just don't mix me up with your girlfriend."

"If he's selling kisses, I'll have a fiver's worth," someone laughed from the back.

"You'll be lucky - Rotherham will want first dibs - captain's privilege."

"I'll flatten you, Geller."

"Sorry, Willie."

"And don't 'Willie' me."

"Thump him, Wills," Parrott urged.

"That's enough, boys - Smith is going to play a crucial role this afternoon, however unconventional his appearance."

"You can say that again."

"It's the best Jeffrey could manage at short notice. We had to drop everything to get here on time. You should applaud our true school spirit."

"We do, Miss Jones. The matter's closed - understood, everyone?"

"I still think it's a queer way to turn out for a rugby match," Parrott muttered.

"Jeffrey's luring the opposition into a false sense of security."

"I don't know about the opposition, but he's certainly luring me. He can have my pound now; I fancy her in his hot shorts."

"Stop this, Smith's a team-mate - treat her with respect."

"If it is Smith, why are you calling him 'her'?. It doesn't make sense."

"It was a slip of the tongue."

"No it wasn't. Is he or isn't she?"

"Never you mind."

"I only asked."

"Well, you shouldn't have. My first rule is - you always support your team-mates. Unswerving loyalty is what I demand. Got it."

"Yes, get lost, Parrott, as far as Jeffrey and I are concerned, we're a band of brothers once we're out on the pitch."

"Well said, Miss Jones. Take note of those sentiments, lads, and don't let my efforts be in vain. This match is there for the winning. Just keep ..."

"What's that?"

A tuneless braying drifted over us.

"Are they sacrificing a goat to the sporting gods?"

"They're singing the school song to fire themselves up. It's a pity we can't reply in kind. What's a good rousing anthem?"

"Show me the way to go home."

"Shut up, Marwood."

"How about the Marseillaise?"

"You are a communist, Smith."

"Liberty, equality, fraternity - I thought that was what you wanted."

"That's beside the point; we need something English, everyone can identify with."

"Ye canna push your granny off a bus."

"What has that to do with rugby?"

"Nothing, but it's a catchy tune, and you can't argue with the sentiments."

"My dad urges his team on with cries of 'They don't like it up 'em'."

"We'll pass on that - I have my standards. Rugby is a hooligan's game played by gentleman - never forget it."

"My Corporal Jones would see off Major Blenkinsopp any day," Susie huffed. "He knows all a man's weak spots."

"That's as may be, but there are limits. This is school rugby, not coarse rugby."

"An ex-England possible defers to dad. He has two artificial hips, but that's neither here nor there, when you're talking tactics."

"Which reminds me - I need to bring you two up to date with my thinking. The rest of you go and confront the opposition. Get them to do a war dance or something, Rotherham."

"Yes, sir. Follow me, men - I'm in charge." He strutted off and beckoned the rest of the team to follow.

"We're right behind you, Willie."

"Shut up, Geller, or I'll clock you one."

"I'm not altogether happy with his leadership qualities, but it's too late now," Mr Carey sighed. "Ignore anything he says and follow my orders. Our strategy ..."

"Strategy - that's a bit ambitious, isn't it?"

"Just listen, Smith. We're still a man short - so I'm sacrificing the wingers. We never get the ball out there, anyway."

"That's down to poor coaching."

"And what do you know about it, Miss Jones?"

"I've sat through dad's post-mortems every Sunday tea-time since I was knee-high to a grasshopper."

"Then, I won't have to explain my tactic of playing you and Smith as twin full-backs."

"Yes, you will - that's a new one on me. How exactly does it work?"

"Never mind, Susie - it'll involve diving at people's feet. I want to play on the wing and hug the touchline, not a muddy boot."

"We can't afford to carry passengers. Listen carefully, while I impart the essence of the game for boys like you." Mr Carey had a quick look around before continuing. "Accidentally kick your opponents in their tender spots when nobody's looking - got it?"

"Yes, but I'm shocked."

"I'm not, Jeffrey. I'm au fait with toecap enemas - it could be dad pontificating."

"Are you happy now, Smith?"

"No, and don't blame me if we're sent off for an early bath."

"You sweeties will be able to get away with murder. The ref will give you the benefit of the doubt in any clash with a Titan. Choose your victim carefully - the bigger, the better."

"Hold on - some of them are real giants."

"Inspire yourselves with thoughts of David versus Goliath - and don't leave any teeth marks."

"It seems a high-risk strategy to me."

"It fits in perfectly with my plans, Jeffrey. Leave it to us, Mr Carey - any other suggestions?"

"Final words of wisdom - rugby's a simple game ..."

"Played by simple men."

"It's chess with boots on," Miss Jones.

"No, it's not."

"Don't you start, Smith."

"I haven't."

"Must you contradict everything I say?"

"I'm only pursuing a dialectic."

"No more of your communist claptrap, please."

"I'm a Platonist, and Susie's a Socratist. Isn't that right, Susie?"

"Very likely, Jeffrey - we won't argue about it."

"I was looking forward to at least an ironic dialogue."

"We'll have a heated one when we get home."

"Give over, both of you, and let's get back to basics. A good pass, a good tackle, and a good excuse are all you need."

"One out of three isn't bad," Susie grinned.

"It hasn't let us down so far," I smiled.

"Just remember, it's not winning that counts - it's coming first. Now, off you go and do me proud," he urged, and sent us on our way with pats on the bottom.

"Don't you think that was a bit familiar, Susie?" I muttered, as I adjusted my shorts. "I'm glad I doubled up now."

"We are rugby boys, Jeffrey, so we'll regard it as nothing more than comradely sporting encouragement."

"I hope you're right, but just to be on the safe side, make sure you're the first one to congratulate me if I happen to score a try."

 

Chapter 90

"Don't look so anxious, Jeffrey, put on a happy face."

"We've crossed the line, Susie, and there's no going back," I frowned, as we made our way onto the pitch. "The opposition won't be taking any prisoners, and I'll have to watch out for some on our side as well."

"There's something to cheer you up, Jeffrey." Susie pointed across to Marwood. "He's one ally and he seems excited at the prospect of a good scrum."

"His enemies are probably my enemies, Susie, but he won't be much help until he gets his sweeping powers."

"Wait, Smithy, I've something to tell you." Marwood gave a frantic wave and bustled towards us.

"Quick, Jeffrey, what's an angry sausage? I didn't like to pursue the subject in mixed company."

"I've no idea; it's probably something to do with a barbecue. Don't ask, and with any luck, we'll be safe until next summer."

Marwood puffed to a halt, pink with indignation. "It's not fair - Carey promised I could be a flanker, and now he's gone and put me in the second row with MacDonnell."

"Well, that's not all bad; you won't have to do so much chasing about from there. It'll be kinder on your athlete's foot."

"But I haven't got a headguard, I'll end up with cauliflower ears. I don't want people calling me bug-a-lugs," he wailed. "It shouldn't be allowed."

"You're right," I sympathised, "but it's too late now. How did Mr Carey get you here in the first place?"

"When he came round, I was in bed, mum was out, and dad volunteered me. Then he drove me here in the bin wagon. He's gone straight to the top of my list - just wait until I'm his boss."

"I wouldn't make any hasty decisions about your dad - you might regret it."

"You're too nice, Jeffrey; I bet everyone loves you."

"I wouldn't go that far."

"Even those Heightonians seem pleased to see you; they're coming over - are they friends of yours?"

"They'd like to be," Susie snorted, "but we're having none of it."

"Look, Kipper, Frankie and Bobbie have brought along Bunter."

"We've got two princesses and the prince of pies."

"We'll murder these sisters."

"Give over," Coker ordered, and slapped Bolsover on the head.

"Oowww! What was that for? They are only oiks," he protested.

"Take no notice of Bully, girls, come and join our huddle - we can squeeze you in."

"We're traditionalists," Susie huffed. "We don't hold with this new-fangled touchy-feely stuff."

"You're in for a treat, then, because some of it will be coming your way, I promise you."

"We'll look after each other, eh, Jeffrey," Marwood pleaded.

"You'll be all right - they're not interested in you. Stay on your feet and run around aimlessly. That's what we'll be doing."

"You can run, but you can't hide!"

"Especially you, Bunter."

"Oh, Jeffrey."

"Ignore them - come on, this way."

We changed course and headed towards the rest of our team.

"Off you go, girls, we'll see you in your half."

"Bunter's got bigger tits than they have."

"You're welcome to him, Clappy."

"They're going to get me, Jeffrey."

"Don't worry, Marwood ... Brian - just stay close to the referee, and you'll be as safe as houses. Mention your family are on the bins - that's sure to impress him."

"Good idea, Jeff - thanks, and you can call me Bri."

"Okay, Brian ... Bri, but I'm a little uncomfortable with Jeff - it's not really me."

"How about Free, then?"

"It's a bit hippy. I'm happy to be Jeffrey."

"You look more like a Free than a Jeffrey."

"That's why I have to be careful - Parrott and his friends might make something out of it if I change my name."

"I know what you mean - they're on my list. I'll settle with them all one day."

"Good, but until then it'll be best if you stick to Jeffrey or Smithy."

"Trust me - little fingers on it." Marwood held out a crooked pinky. "Then we'll be special pals."

"Okay."

"And Susie."

"Right- you can't have one without the other."

Susie and I exchanged a smile, and we executed a three-way shake with a grinning Marwood.

"Now I can call you Free when nobody's around. And you can call me Bree," he giggled. "It'll be our little secret."

"The thing about a secret is ..."

"What?"

"It's ... Oh, never mind."

"Go on, we're special pals, now."

"Well ..."

"Break it up and get into position," Mr Carey shouted from the touchline. "They'll be kicking off without you."

"Sorry ... Bri, we have to go - I daren't risk upsetting Old Harry. I need to put on a good show - you know how it is."

"I understand," Marwood nodded, "but watch out for yourself."

"I will - and you. Ta-ra for now."

"See you, Free, see you, Zee," he smiled, and shuffled off to join the forwards.

"Zee, I'll give him, Zee!"

"Calm down, Susie, or you'll never find out what an angry sausage is."

"Someone else craves our attention, Jeffrey."

"Oh, what next?"

"Just a minute, Smith, don't walk away - I want a word with you."

"You're not really the captain, are you Rotherham?"

"Yes I am, and show some respect."

"Sorry, it's just that your rapid promotion surprised me; you've only ever been a substitute before."

"Because I have to understudy your big-headed boyfriend."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, he's always talking about you. It's Jeffrey this, and Jeffrey that - and leave Smith alone or you'll have me to answer to."

"Robbie's a born leader, like me." Susie stepped between us and pushed him away. "It's natural for us to protect the weak and defenceless. See you do the same."

"I know my responsibilities; I'm carrying the whole lot of you on my shoulders. This is my big chance to shine - don't you bugger it up, or it'll be the worse for you."

"Aye, aye, captain, we'll be doing our best for each other, won't we, Jeffrey?"

"You can depend on it, Susie."

"Never mind her - what about me?"

"You'll be up at the front - in the thick of the action - our paths won't be crossing."

"Mr Carey told us to stay at the back and not get in your way. He's investing all his hopes in you."

"Exactly, and that's why I need the team's full support."

"The best we can do is sacrifice ourselves and have someone sent off with us."

"We're merely pawns in Old Harry's game - you're his king."

"Shouldn't that be queen, Jeffrey?"

"Don't you start," Rotherham warned. "I've had enough lip from Geller and his mates."

"I only meant a king hobbles around the board, as opposed to the flowing moves of a queen - right, Jeffrey."

"We'd better settle for his ace of trumps, Susie."

"How does that suit you, skipper?"

"You won't be laughing if that joker Coker gets on your tail; you'll be begging for my help. He brought tears to Robbie's eyes. He squeezes people's balls."

"Well, that trick won't work with me. Leave it to us - we'll take care of him, eh, Jeffrey?"

"I wouldn't be at all surprised, Susie."

"You'll have your hands full - he's a big danger. Take my advice, and double team him when he comes your way."

"Yes, sir."

"And another thing ..."

"Sorry, we're out of time; you're wanted for the toss. Off you go - it's heads or tails if that's any help," Susie grinned.

"Please yourself," Rotherham snorted in disgust. "I've tried my best to be a captain for you, but I'll be cheering when Coker wipes the smiles of your cheeky faces." He dismissed us with a wave of his arm and stalked off.

"Self-important and with no sense of humour - a Robbie mark II."

"I'll tell you what, though, Susie, after hearing all that, I feel a bit guilty about forcing those winkles on Robbie."

"I suppose his heart is in the right place."

"I only hope everything else is in future. I'm glad we got him the flowers and Mars bar; it was some small compensation."

"Plus, we fixed it with his dad - we've nothing to reproach ourselves for. We can even dedicate our coming victory to him; that'll make him feel better."

"I'm not doing anything as naff as that. Laughter is the best medicine - a pair of novelty eyebrows is as far as I'm prepared to go."

"And I'll send him those driving gloves - yellow isn't my colour."

"And that will be the end of the matter - I don't want to think about him any more. Let's concentrate on keeping out of harm's way - it'll need our full attention."

"There are some big ungainly lads on our side as well, Jeffrey."

"It should be one mad unenthusiastic scramble for the most part, thank God."

"Carey has high expectations of us, Jeffrey, we'll have to find some way not to let the school down."

"Blow the school and blow Carey's strategy. We're not playing rugby, we're playing football. If the ball comes anywhere near you, Susie, whack it straight into touch. Whatever you do, don't pick it up."

"Any other instructions."

"If anybody passes it to you, drop it like a hot potato. Ball handling's the thing that gets you into trouble."

"You're wise beyond your ears, Jeffrey."

"I only hope we've still got a full set after this is all over," I sighed. "Come on, let's get into position."

We made our way towards the 22-metre line.

"Where do you want to stand, Jeffrey?"

"Behind the big puddle."

"It's more of a mini lake. Carey's shouting and signalling for us to go either side of it."

"We're turning a deaf eye to him, and sticking together, Susie."

Phweeeeeeee! Phweeeeeeee!

"Here we go. Hold my hand, Jeffrey."

"Nobody's making much progress, Susie."

"They're going round in circles, Jeffrey, it's a bugger's muddle."

"Long may it continue."

We'd chatted undisturbed behind our moat for ten minutes, while two ignorant armies clashed on the halfway line.

"The ref's doing more running around than anyone."

"He's been whistling his head off; there are saboteurs on both sides deliberately throwing it forward."

"Carey and Blenkinsopp are doing their nuts."

"I feel sorry for poor old Marwood - he won't be enjoying the excess of scrums."

"At least, he's keeping his ears warm; it's a bit parky out here, Jeffrey."

"This is a typical rugby experience, Susie - overheated in the scrimmage or frozen on the touchline."

"Not for much longer, Jeffrey, things may be about to get hot; their full-back's launched one, and it's coming our way."

"Get under it, Smith!" Mr Carey shouted.

"Are you up for catching it, Jeffrey?"

"Not likely." I busied myself adjusting my socks.

Splaaaaaaaasssshhh! The ball landed in the middle of no-man's water.

"Get going, Smith - don't just stand there saluting it!"

"Carey expects, Jeffrey - he's jumping up and down like a clog dancer with a ferret down his trousers."

"I'm can't spend the whole match with wet feet, Susie; mum would go mad. We'll leave it to our captain - here he comes - he's got it covered."

"Wake up, Smith, it's your ball," Rotherham yelled, as he arrived at the far side of the lake. "Move yourself!"

"I can't leave my defensive position - we're playing a zonal system. We're under strict orders to stay behind the 22."

"Then, work with me," he hollered, and sploshed his way across, pursued by the opposing pack.

"Talk about keen, Jeffrey."

"He's retreating by example, Susie."

"Not fast enough - they're hot on his heels. They'll clatter him when he picks it up."

"To you, Smith!" Rotherham decided discretion was the better part of valour, and booted the ball our way. "Clear it!"

"Dad would give him a rollicking for that, Jeffrey. A real leader would have thrown himself on it and not left it to the poor bloody infantry. He's nothing but a big sissy."

"And he's left us in the lurch, Susie."

"I'm coming for you!" The Heightonian number 8 changed course and charged towards us.

"He's a big one, Susie; we don't want to tangle with him," I cried, as the ball bobbled her way. "Kick it, as hard as you can."

Thwaaaaaaaaaaaccck!

Splaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat!

"Uuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh!"

"Ole!" Susie took evasive action, and the onrushing forward collapsed in a heap at her feet. "Got him, Jeffrey - and smack between the eyes."

"Bang on the button, Susie, you've rung the bell."

"I should get a bonus for that. Cut off his ears!"

"Aaaaaaaarrrrggghhh." Our opponent writhed on the ground and clasped his face in his hands.

"It's all right - I was only joking."

"I'm bleeding -do something!"

"Blood injury!" I yelled.

"Quick, bring on the magic sponge!" Susie bent over her victim and tried to inspect the damage.

"Get off - it hurts."

"You'll be okay - keep your head back. Anyone got a key handy?"

"That's enough, Susie." I pulled her away before she could pinch his nose. "You've done your bit - help's arrived."

A flustered, callow youth gasped to a halt, dropped his bag, and knelt down beside them.

"Over to you, Master Trainer, I've put him in the recovery position. Get out the smelling salts."

"We'll be better giving him air, Susie."

"Wait, Jeffrey."

"Come here, it's bad form to hang around and gawk."

"I'm assisting - my expertise may be needed. I'll see if there's one of those styptic pencils thingies in the bag. We'll soon have him up and about."

"And looking for revenge," I hissed. "We don't want that - we want him retired hurt."

"Oooowww!"

"Sorry, just testing," the boy apologised to his patient, and turned to Susie. "I'm a last minute replacement; I don't know anything about first-aid. His nose felt a little wobbly - what do you think?"

"It looks slightly crooked, and he may have detached a floating rib. I'd advise an X-ray - you can't be too careful. You wouldn't want his parents making a fuss if you send him home with just a bump note."

"They could sue - you've taken on a big responsibility," I added.

"Stretcher!"

"A wise decision, well done - you've behaved like a true professional," Susie reassured the anxious first-aider. "Have him lie down for the next hour, just to be on the safe side."

"Thanks, I'll take him straight to matron."

"We'll leave things in your capable hands, then." Susie patted him on the back, before retreating alongside me.

"That's a relief," I murmured, as we watched our victim being carried away. "And Old Harry should be pleased, it evens up the odds - they haven't any substitutes."

"More than evens, someone's going with him - and he's bleeding in sympathy."

"He smeared himself with it, Susie; one of their unwilling conscripts has taken the opportunity to make an early exit."

"Two with one blow, Jeffrey."

"And yours was a regular, going by the smell of wintergreen. I wonder if we can get rid of any more."

"We will - by fair means or foul."

"Where were you, Smith and Jones? You let him run through unopposed."

"You tell them, sir," Rotherham whined. "They've undone all my good work."

"Sorry, we were taken by surprise," Susie apologised. "The midfield stalemate seemed a good time to fix our boot trouble."

"It took longer than we thought. I'm a bit rusty on the lacing."

"And I've no idea at all - Jeffrey had to do mine as well."

"That's seven points thrown away. No more excuses - I expect you to play barefoot if necessary."

"Don't worry, dad says it's dangerous to score early doors - it breeds complacency."

"You were caught napping again."

"We shepherded him into the corner and saved the conversion."

"That's not good enough."

"Don't be too hard on your little demons, Carey," Blenkinsopp smirked. "It is only a game, but not one to their liking, it seems."

"Did you hear that, Smith?"

"No, sir."

"Well, the message is, I want to see some real commitment from you. They shall not pass from now on - or our agreement's null and void."

"That's not fair."

"We're still on the field; it's more than you can say about those two who hobbled off with so-called blisters."

"They'll suffer for it, Miss Jones, and so will Smith if he doesn't buck up his ideas."

"I'm taking my time to get back into the swing of things."

"We've been weighing up the opposition, and we've decided to adopt dad's modern counter-attacking approach. Leave it to us, sir - everything is under control."

"They're walloping us."

"12 - 3 will be a pretty respectable half-time score."

"Not now, we've lost Rotherham, Smith. Pull your finger out - the least you can do is take one with you like he did."

"What do you mean? Their man had the trots, and Rotherham went off with a stubbed toe after scoring our penalty. He could have stayed on; you were overly sympathetic in my opinion."

"Don't mince words, Jeffrey, it was no way for a captain to behave. He was looking for an excuse to quit; he lost his bottle after the first clash with Coker."

"I'll be having words about that - he shouldn't have turned his back on him. I don't want to see the same sort of behaviour from you, Smith."

"You won't - I promise."

"What's more, we'll show you and Blenkinsopp how pukka boys deal with a big bully, won't we, Jeffrey?"

"I wouldn't put it past us, Susie."

 

Chapter 91

"Your turn, Jeffrey - tonk it hot and strong."

"Into touch with you!"

Thwwaaaaaaaccckkk! I met the ball on the half volley, and sent it soaring high into the opponents half.

"Boooootiful, Jeffrey, there'll be ice on that when it comes down."

"How did I do that, Susie?"

"Perfect timing, Jeffrey - the secret of success in all ball games. And look at the bend you put on it."

"Oh, no!" I cried in dismay, as the wind redirected it straight down the middle.

"Get after it, Smith!" Mr Carey yelled from the touchline. "This is your play - you started the move. Lead from the front, or you'll be hanging from those wall bars."

"I'll have to show willing at least once, Susie," I groaned, and set off downfield in warm pursuit. "Wait there."

"No way - I'm coming too - we're a team."

"Well, stay back out of danger."

Susie caught up with me on the halfway line. "Slow down, Jeffrey."

"What are you doing so close?"

"Protecting your rear - we're in enemy territory."

"I know, but I can't ease up just yet."

"Pull a hamstring or something - Coker's showing an ominous interest."

"The referee's a stickler for the rules; he isn't allowing any funny business. I'll be okay as long as I don't catch the ball."

"That could be the problem, Jeffrey - the blooming thing's hanging in the air, like it's waiting for you."

"Faster, Smith! This is our big chance - it's heading between their posts."

"I'll keep going, Susie, and hope it bounces out of play."

"Isn't she lovely," Parrott whooped, as I burst through our forwards. "Oh, look at that bum."

"Oowww!"

"Shut it, you cheeky bugger." Susie clipped his ear, in passing. "Got him for you, Jeffrey."

"Restrain yourself, Susie, he is on our side."

"Head down, Smith - come on, one last big effort," Carey urged, as I left our reluctant heroes trailing in my wake.

"What more do you want? I've put everyone onside. I'm out on my own."

"Follow up! Follow up! Give him support!"

"Don't worry, you won't be lonely for long. Leave her to me, boys - this is one for the Kipper!"

"Take evasive action, Jeffrey, the devil's at 4 o'clock!"

I glanced over my shoulder, and saw Coker steaming after me.

"I haven't got the ball - you can't touch me."

"That's what you think, darling - we're going to have an unavoidable coming together."

"Run, Jeffrey!"

"I'm running!"

"Not that way - towards me."

"I can't turn tail with Carey watching."

"But I can, lovey," Coker yelled.

"I'm not a lovey - you're making a big mistake."

"You've a girl's arse; I've never seen a boy's move like that. Just wait until I get my face buried in it," he panted.

"Save your breath," I cried, and accelerated away.

"Go on, Smith, go on," Carey screamed, as the ball bounced over the line in front of me. "You're nearly there - throw yourself on it."

"And then we'll play squash," my pursuer cackled.

"Not on your life!" I was ready to accidentally kick the ball into the carpark when my boot flew off.

"Oooowwwwww!" It caught Coker in a tender spot.

"Oooooohhhhh!" And its loss sent me tumbling out of control.

"That's right, Smith - dive, dive, dive!", Carey shouted, as I pitched forward over the line.

"Ooooooeeeerrr!"

"Touch down, Smith, touch down!"

"Ooooooooooff!" I landed on the ball and slid along with it firmly wedged under my outstretched arms.

"Yeeeeeesssss!"

Phweeeeeeee! Phweeeeeeee! The referee turned his back to the posts and raised his arm above his head.

"Yeeeeeesssss! My first ever try against them." Old Harry danced in glee. "I knew you had it in you, Smith."

"Watch out, Jeffrey!"

"Sorry - change of plan, but here's a little something to be going on with," Coker grunted, and planted his foot firmly on my bottom.

"Ooooowwww!"

"Foul! You missed that, ref - the dirty blighter showed Jeffrey his studs."

"Get off!" I jack-knifed up, as Coker twisted the boot in, and took him by surprise.

"Oooooohhhhh!"

He staggered backwards, skidded on a muddy patch, and splashed down in a big puddle.

"Aaaaaaaawwww!"

"Serves you right."

"You've a bum like a trampoline, Jeffrey, he didn't bargain on that," Susie grinned. "Are you okay?"

I scrambled to my feet and inspected the damage. "I've a big muddy footprint on my shorts; I only hope Old Harry's satisfied."

"You scored, Jeffrey - and you didn't, you big bully. Take that!" Susie turned and lashed the ball at Coker.

"Ooooooooooff!" The pointy bit buried itself in his stomach. "You bloody did that on purpose," he gasped.

"Count yourself lucky - I was aiming to split the kipper."

"I'll get you for this, missies," he threatened. "Just you wait!"

"Not blooming likely - we're off." Coker jumped to his feet, and we hastily retreated behind the referee.

"Let's have no nonsense," he warned, "or you'll all be in my book."

"We're already on our way, sir," Susie smiled. "We aren't confrontational types. Come on, Jeffrey."

I retrieved my boot, and cold-footed it back into our own half.

"Coker won't forget that, Susie - we'll have to be extra alert from now on."

"He's a danger to us while he remains on the pitch, Jeffrey. He's got to go - any ideas on how to get rid of him?"

"I have something in mind if a favourable opportunity arises, Susie."

"Tell me, Jeffrey - and it will."

"What we need to do is ..."

"Aaaaawww!"

"Oh, Susie - that was blatant."

"There goes the flying Kipper, Jeffrey - give him a wave."

"You've upset his gyro, Susie."

Coker was cartwheeling through the air after failing to penetrate our last line of defence.

Splooossshh!

"Aaarrrghhh!"

"My boot's hanging off, Jeffrey - how did that happen?"

"You bloody whacked me with it," Coker spluttered, spitting out a mouthful of mud.

"Suck it up, buttercup."

Phweeeeeeee! Phweeeeeeee!

"Shush, Susie, the ref's on his way - apologise and assume an air of innocence."

"Sorry, Kipper, it somehow got tangled up with you."

"Oooooowwwwwww!" Coker grimaced, when he tried to get up.

"I hope you're not hurt."

"Just enough to get you an early bath," he smirked at Susie.

"Here, let me help," I offered. "It may not be that bad."

"Bugger off! She's crocked my knee." Coker fell back, and made a big show of rubbing his leg. "Don't worry, cupcake," he leered, "I'll be fit to give you my exclusive attention after she's had her marching orders."

"You tried to give me the stiff arm, and I protected myself," Susie glared. "You'll be the one doing the walking."

"I was handing you off - a legitimate tactic."

"Well, I dodged, and you fell over under your own weight. Anyone can see you're top-heavy."

"He is built like one of those girls who do the butterfly, now you come to mention it, Susie."

"You're spot on, Jeffrey, there is a strong resemblance."

"Have you been doing special exercises to develop your chest?"

"What do you mean by that?" Coker snarled.

"He means you're in the wrong game, chummy, get back to the swimming pool with your water wings. There's no room for cry-babies here; this is a real man's sport."

"You bloody little ..."

Phweeeeeeee! Phweeeeeeee! The referee finally arrived and shot us all a severe look. "Tempers, gentlemen - you're already on a warning."

"Book this little runt - it was a reckless tackle - a deliberate trip."

"That big brute started it - he trampled on Jeffrey's bottom."

"Calm down." The ref stepped in front of Susie and raised his arm. "You can't take the law into your own hands. Penalty to Heighton - give ten."

"You haven't heard my side yet," Susie protested.

"I don't want to hear any more from you - you're due a yellow." He lowered his whistle and reached for the card.

"But ..."

"Quiet, Susie, we must learn to turn the other cheek and embrace our enemies." I smiled across at Coker. "No hard feelings on our side - we're prepared to forgive and forget, aren't we, Susie?"

"Never mind that soft beggar, Jeffrey, give me a hand tying these laces."

"All in good time - let's show these public school types we aren't lacking in fair play."

"Marwood was right - you are too nice."

"You can't be too nice, Susie." I got behind Coker and grasped him firmly under the arms - "Whoops-a-daisy!" I exclaimed, and yanked upwards.

"Aaaaaarrrrggghhh! Gerroff, you bloody bitch!" Coker screamed, and leapt to his feet. "Take that!" He swung round and let fly a wild punch.

"Duck, Jeffrey!"

I ducked. Coker's fist wafted harmlessly over my ponytail.

Whuuuuuuummmp!

And connected with an unaware referee, still fiddling with a stubborn button on his top pocket.

"Uuuuuuuuhhhhhh!" He took it flush on the chin and collapsed in a heap.

"That took him by surprise, Susie."

"He didn't even have the chance to pick a dream, Jeffrey."

"Oooohhh - what's happened?" Coker stared at the prostrate figure in disbelief.

"You've subdued him good and proper."

"Now you're for the high jump."

"Sorry, I didn't mean it, ref." Coker bent down and shouted in his ear. "Sorry!"

"It's too late for apologies - he's out cold - it's not penetrating."

"And he's not moving at all."

"His eyes have rolled up," Coker gulped.

"That's a bad sign. What do you think, Jeffrey?"

"I think he's a goner, Susie."

"Well, he died with his boots on."

"Oh, help!"

"Don't look at us, you big ox, it's your responsibility. Get down and give him the kiss of life before it's too late."

Coker dropped to his knees and bent over the inert body. "Are you okay, ref? Say something, please," he wailed.

"Don't panic - he hasn't popped off yet - I saw his leg jerk."

"What should I do?" Coker appealed to Susie.

"Slap his face - he needs a counter-shock."

Shwaaapp!

"Again - something twitched."

Shwaaapp! The referee's hair slid forward, exposing a deathly white expanse of skin.

"Aaaaaaarrrggh, his scalp's come off - I can see his skull!"

"Get a grip on yourself - it's only a wig."

"Thank God for that." Coker picked it up and used it to wipe his brow, before sitting back in relief.

"Don't stop now - hit him harder - and raise the tempo."

Shwaaaaaapppp! Shwaaaaaapppp! Shwaaaaaapppp!

"Oooohhh, oooohhh," the referee moaned and his eyelids flickered.

"More, more - it's working!"

Shwaaaaaapppp! Shwaaaaaapppp! Shwaaaaaapppp!

"Oooohhh, oooohhh. Where am I? Oooohhh, oooohhh."

"He's coming round - carry on."

"What should I do now?"

"He needs air - waft him with his wig."

Coker obeyed and began frantically fanning.

"Ooooooooohhh." The referee stirred slightly.

"He's coming to."

"Ooohh, ooh, oh ..."

"No - he's going again - quick, give him another slap."

Shwaaaaaaaaapppppp!

"Ooooowwww! Stop it!"

"Well done - he's definitely back in the land of the living."

"What happened?" The referee slowly sat up and looked around. "Where's that draught coming from?" His hands flew up to his head.

"I think this is yours, sir." Coker gingerly held out the hairpiece.

"Give that here!" The ref plonked it back on his pate, and realisation dawned. "Now, I remember - you hit me."

"It was an accident."

"No it wasn't." The referee took up from where he left off, and fumbled in his pocket. He finally managed to wave a red card in Kipper's face. "Off!"

"But ..."

"Off, boy, before I bring criminal charges. You assaulted my person."

"I didn't."

"It's all becoming clear now." The ref held on to his toupee and shook his head. "You weren't content with one blow - you used me like a punch bag."

"I was reviving you."

"You repeatedly molested me. Off, I said!"

"It wasn't my fault. Tell him, sir," Coker appealed to a puce Major Blenkinsopp, who was striding across to us.

"Don't argue, boy." "This is not the way Heightonians behave."

"But I'm being victimised," Coker protested.

"What have I told you about raising your hands - it's sheer indiscipline. You've let the side down again."

"But, sir ..."

"No excuses, the referee's decision is final. Leave the field immediately - I'll deal with you later."

"But ..."

"Leave!"

"Yes, sir," he sulked, and finally turned to go.

"Sorry about the misunderstanding," I smiled.

"I'll be back," he scowled, and limped away.

"Give over, Susie, before the referee remembers your part in this," I whispered. "Let's quit while we're ahead - it went better than we could have hoped for."

"Just a minute, I haven't finished with you two." The referee struggled to his knees, and blew his whistle. "Half-time," he croaked, and fainted dead away with the effort.

"Stretcher party," Blenkinsopp yelled.

"Loosen his collar."

"Leave them to it, Susie." I pulled her clear and steered her towards the touchline. "You've escaped a certain yellow card."

"I was totally innocent. He was a bully boy, who lost the plot when I stood up to him and downed him with a perfectly timed tackle."

"He certainly lacked your understanding of the finer points of the game, Susie."

"His mouth was bigger than his brain, Jeffrey. But that was no excuse for the ungrateful sod trying to whack you like that, after you sportingly held out the hand of friendship."

"I suppose it could have something to do with the fact I lifted him up by the thick forest of hairs under his arms. He's a big lad, and I had to take a firm grip. I may have accidentally plucked out a few."

"Well, he can't say we didn't warn him."

"Even so, Tom Brown wouldn't have approved, Susie."

"It definitely wasn't in there, Jeffrey. Where did you learn that trick?"

"Somebody tried it on my dad."

"What happened?"

"Almost the same thing - my dad was sent off, and the other player was carried off."

"A man after my own heart, Jeffrey - a retaliator - as approved by natural selection."

"Just try not to be an erratic retaliator."

"Understood, Jeffrey." Susie clapped me on the back as we watched the referee disappear into his dressing room. "I think we've had a result; that should be game over."

We trotted off the pitch and gave Mr Carey a wave as we passed.

"Where do you think you're going, Smith?"

"Home."

"No, you're not."

"This is your chance to get the match abandoned and claim an honourable draw. What more do you want?"

"You got their most dangerous player sent off; we're even Steven now."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration."

"Apart from Rotherham, all we've lost were useless. 12 - 10 isn't much of a mountain to climb; this is our best chance ever to win. We'll find a substitute referee, and then it's on with the game."

"Seeing as we're down to eleven a side, couldn't we switch to football for the second half."

"No, Smith."

"It's something to think about; it'd be a popular move with our team."

"The matter's closed. I'm showing no sign of weakness."

"How about us - do we get a cup of tea and a biscuit? It was cold out there."

"No, go and suck on an orange, or find yourself a banana."

"No way - I'd rather you gave us an inspiring team talk."

"I'll leave that to you and Miss Jones, you're temporary acting captains."

"But it's the manager's job."

"I've more important things to do; I have to keep my eye on Blenkinsopp. I can't have him pulling a fast one with the new referee."

"I've no idea what to say."

"All you have to remember is the three big Ms - Motivation, Motivation, Motivation, and you can't go wrong."

"But I'm not a leader."

"I am."

"Follow Miss Jones's example, and you'll grow into the job."

Carey gave me a slap on the back and set off across the field.

"How are you on sports psychology, Susie?"

"I'll improvise something, Jeffrey ... when's St Crispin's day?"

"If it's early this year, they'll be none the wiser - carry on."

 

Chapter 92

"That could have gone better, Susie."

"Sheer prejudice, Jeffrey." Susie slammed our changing-room door shut behind her. "The sooner there's a woman England football manager the better."

"Let's get away from here," I urged, as she hesitated on the veranda. "They still sound somewhat aroused."

"A bloody cheek - that's what it was. I've a good mind to go back in there and show them who's the boss."

"It'll be a waste of time." I took her arm, and set off for the refuge of the cricket pavilion. "You haven't the right material to work with."

"Very true - you can't make bricks out of clay. I was a voice in the wilderness."

"Not entirely - the Shakespeare was well received; you did the bard proud. But your dad's stuff went over their heads - apart from the bits that annoyed them."

"I wasn't there to massage their egos - or anything else. If I find out who asked for a little touch of Susie in the night."

"Best let it drop - we don't want to stir things up again."

"I was settling them down until you sabotaged my efforts."

"I'm sorry about that, but Marwood started it by plonking his athlete's foot in my lap. I was put in an awkward situation - his big toe really is an angry sausage."

"You shouldn't have offered to rub it down with honey."

"I didn't. I passed on one of gran's folk remedies. It seemed the least I could do, but a clove of garlic may have been the wiser choice - less open to misinterpretation."

"You snookered my tactical talk. I couldn't compete with a discussion on erotic foreplay."

"That was entirely in the ears of the beholders. I won't be so naive again."

"I hope you've learned a salutary lesson about old wives' tales. You caused an epidemic of itchy groins to present themselves for treatment."

"I was as embarrassed as you were. You wouldn't think a ponytail and a touch of make-up could cause mass amnesia. I mean, the whole sixth can't be hankering after a girly boy - it's not natural."

"Your bandage coming loose didn't help, Jeffrey; Pinky and Perky popping out must have added to the intrigue."

"The duct tape was from the pound shop as well; I've been doubly let down."

"Hold still - I'd better secure your assets before we go any further." I pulled up my shirt, and Susie kneaded the tape back into place. "There you are - as good as new."

"It can't be. I'll have to walk around with my arm up my back."

"It's okay - just don't make any sudden movements."

"I may have no choice with Old Harry urging me on," I moaned. "I have scored our only try - you'd think he'd ... Oooohhhhhh, look!"

"Where, Jeffrey?" Susie poked her head over my shoulder. "What is it - have you seen the pallid lady?"

"Over there." I pointed to the three figures that had emerged from the official's dressing room. "It's your dad. Where did he spring from - and why is he wearing shorts?"

Mr Jones, flanked by Carey and Blenkinsopp, was ambling towards us.

"Say hello to our new referee," Susie grinned. "The game's in the bag - what a stroke of luck."

"Not for me, it isn't." I turned and headed in the opposite direction. "Aaaahhhhhh!"

"Now what?"

"It's Mikey's - he's with a gang of lads. Oh, he's seen us, and he's waving. What am I going to do?"

"Wave back - don't let him down - he'll be boasting you're his girlfriend."

"Oh, my wig! Where is it when I need it?"

"And that I'm his sister."

"I'm caught between Scylla and Charybdis."

"So you've nothing to worry about."

"Haven't I?"

"We're two pseudo-boys together; they'll have no doubts we're both girls. Trust me, Jeffrey, I know what I'm doing."

"We'll soon find out; here they come."

"We'd better meet them half-way; we don't want his lot meeting our lot. That could only lead to more confusion."

"It's a pity you didn't plan for that."

"I always like to leave room for improvisation and personal initiative."

"Being Denise and Jeffrey at the same time is a bit too much personal initiative in my opinion."

"You'll cope - it's nothing new for you."

"I only hope I'm Denise enough for his pals without Pinky and Perky doing their upmost to bolster my id."

"Don't worry, you've other attributes in reserve. Your ponytail is turning out to be a masterstroke of horse sense. Swish it about, and flutter your eyelashes - but be careful, you don't want to overwhelm them."

"I'm not making an exhibition of myself."

"Then, acting twelve is my recommended improvisation - it explains everything."

"You're confusing me now, Susie - I'm all of a swither."

"Courage, Jeffrey, fiddle with your hair, suck your thumb, and make with the little girl talk - no more showing off with classical allusions."

"Okay, Pandora."

"We may need more of my out-of-the-box thinking later, Denise, but let's start with a big smile of welcome for your not so secret admirer."

"What did I tell you!" Mikey announced his arrival with a triumphant sweep of his arm. "Now do you believe me?"

"It looks like Jonesy wasn't joking."

"I never thought he was, Unman."

"You'll swallow anything, Wittering."

"Belt up, Zigo, and say hello to my girlfriend Denise." Mikey skipped over and pretended to nuzzle my ear. "Please, go along with it," he whispered, "I've a reputation to maintain."

"How old did you say she was?"

"Sixteen."

"Never!"

"Is so! Tell them, Denise."

"Well ..."

"Just a sec, Mikey." Susie pushed him aside. "How about introducing me?"

"Oh, and this is my little sister, Susie."

"Your what!"

"She likes to pretend she's older than twelve."

"Just wait until I get you home!"

"I was only joking - but I am taller than you."

"Don't add heightism to your list of crimes. Get back over there and behave yourself - you're embarrassing Denise."

"I am not."

"Hop it and keep quiet, or I'll embarrass you."

"Don't, Susie," he mouthed, before quickly retreating to his pals.

"Why are you letting her boss you about, Mikey?"

"I'm not - mum and dad don't like us arguing. Watch what you say, Unman," he hissed, "she has temper tantrums."

"I heard that."

"Sorry, I only meant you were sensitive."

"Why do you keep apologising?"

"He's scared of her."

"And he looks guilty."

"That's because they're both his sisters, Wittering."

"And they're both twelve."

"And his supposed girlfriend hasn't said a word. Admit it, Mikey, you're having us on."

"No, I'm not - say something, please, Denise."

"No way am I his sister, and I am sixteen."

"Then where have your boobs gone - she had whoppers in Mikey's pictures this morning, didn't she, Zigo?"

"I did not - they were nicely in proportion."

"Well, they aren't now - and where's your peek-a-boo blonde hair?"

"It's at home."

"Along with your tits."

"Don't be so bloody rude, or I'll wallop you," Susie threatened, raising her arm.

"Sorry." All three took a hasty step to the rear.

"And stop gawping - where are your manners?"

"Well, it's peculiar, that's all. Doodahs can't just disappear."

"They haven't. Denise was in enhanced glamour mode. She'd dressed up as Miss May for a charity calendar. Any more questions?"

"Ask her why she hasn't any boobs, either, Unman."

"Ask her yourself, Wittering."

"Stop hiding back there, Zigo, it's your turn. Don't leave it all to us."

"They're both his sisters, they're both only twelve, and they're both as big a liars as Mikey," he snorted. "It's as plain as the nose on your face."

"Mikey's my kid brother, we're sixteen, and we're fully developed."

"You could have fooled me."

"It's none of your business, but if you must know, everything's securely battened down because we're in rugby mode."

"Rugby mode?"

"We're twin full-backs."

"Here we go again, Unman, more make-believe."

"They are dressed for the part, Zigo. What do you think, Wittering?"

"You're not really playing, are you?"

"Of course we are - can't you see the mud on our shorts and boots on our feet."

"There's no way girls can be in the school team."

"Pope Joan the Nice Science College is a modern, feminist establishment, not like this hidebound place. 'Opportunity for All' is our rallying cry."

"Major Blenkinsopp wouldn't stand for it - what did he say when he saw you?"

"He gave us a poke with his stick and admired our trim figures. Your Major is satisfied with our privates."

"I don't believe it."

"I do, Zigo, he mixes me up with that hairy ape Harris."

"He gives me the creeps with those funny sidelong looks."

"That's because of his glass eye, Unman."

"He hasn't got a glass eye, Wittering."

"Yes, he has, Zigo; he lost it in the war."

"He's never been in a war and he's not a real Major - it's all malarkey. He's Major hyphenated Blenkinsopp, who parades around in short shorts with a sawn-off chalkboard pointer under his arm."

"He could still have a glass eye. You've seen it, haven't you, Unman?"

"What does it matter? He'd only need half an eye to realise these two were girls. There's something funny going on."

"All Blenkinsopp cares about is winning. So, like I said, he's turning his glass eye."

"For the last time, Wittering, he hasn't got a glass eye."

"Yes, he has. I saw it in his handkerchief after he blew his nose."

"That was one of my marbles he confiscated."

"You've lost your marbles, Zigo. You don't know everything."

"Quit wittering, Twittering."

"I've warned you not to call me that."

"And what are you going to do about it?"

"This, you plonker!"

Thwooocck!

"Oooowww! You lousy kick coward."

"Smash him, Unman."

"Aaaarrggh!"

"Don't hit me, Wittering, I'm on your side."

"No, you're not."

"Help, Mikey - where are you?"

"I'm looking after my sister."

"Never mind that - they've insulted us. Get in there, and defend our honour." Susie's push helped him on his way.

"Okay, but, don't tell, dad - I'm on probation. Watch this, Denise - it's jujitsu."

Mikey grabbed Zigo's satchel and wrestled him to the ground.

"British Bulldog - one, two, three! Come on, Unman," Wittering yelled, and piled on top.

"Leggo my hair!"

"Get your hand out of there!"

"They're fighting like Kilkenny cats, Susie. This is a good time to fold our tents and steal silently away."

"We have to go, Mikey, the second half awaits. I'm glad you've made such fine friends at school. See you later."

"Ta-ra, Susie." He struggled to the top of the heap and waved goodbye. "Ta-ra, Denise."

"Ta-ra, if you stay to cheer us on, it's Smithy and Jonesy - just so you keep Major Blenkinsopp in the dark."

"And pay close attention to our moves, Mikey - we'll show you and dad what real rugby players are made of, won't we, Denise?"

"I hope not, Susie."

"What did I tell you - it was a piece of cake," Susie beamed, when we were safely back on the pitch.

"I wish you wouldn't tempt fate. I'll be even more of a split personality if we're all invited for post-match tea and crumpets."

"An unlikely prospect."

"I'm not so sure. The visiting teams get a mug of Bovril at our place. They'll be at least as lavish with their hospitality here."

"We'll burn that bridge over troubled water when we come to it. Don't worry - something will turn up."

"It had better. I don't want to fend off any more adolescent curiosity. I could feel their eyes boring into me."

"No one suspected a thing, Jeffrey, it went exactly as I forecast."

"You didn't mind being taken for twelve, then."

"I'll be having serious words with Mikey about that. He put the idea in their heads, but I soon disabused them of the notion. I had the yoblets quaking in their boots."

"We were the ones wearing boots."

"Well, I wasn't quaking."

"You might be in the next five minutes, Susie. Look - we've just rooted our new referee to the spot. Your dad will be the next one demanding an explanation."

"And he'll have one. This is a situation where it's best to take the bull by the horns, and eschew artifice, Jeffrey."

"You mean tell the truth?"

"The whole truth, and nothing but - with knobs on."

"Oh, Susie, I don't think I'm ready for that."

"Yes, we are. Hi, dad, over here - it really is us."

Mr Jones let out a cry and galloped across to us, a maelstrom of whirling arms.

"That's brought him out of his trance, Susie."

"And some - what's he so worked up about?"

"I think it's a signal to leave the pitch. That's not the best of starts."

"Stand your ground, Jeffrey, when dad gets over the shock, he'll be tickled pink we're pursuing his favourite pastime."

"That's pink as in crimson."

"He has a tendency to get overexcited, but I'll soon calm him down. Whoa, dad, I've some good news for you."

"What are you doing here, Susie?" Mr Jones spluttered, as he skidded to a halt. "What's your game?"

"Rugby, dad, we're representing the school."

"You can't be. Why are you dressed like that?"

"We're in the official kit. It's a little on the small side, and our shirts are hanging out, but it's approved from on high."

"Never mind the fashion report - what's going on?"

"We're emergency replacements for the Pontiac fever victims. When asked, we didn't hesitate to volunteer. The team must come first - like you're always telling mum."

"Don't involve your mother in this - she'll blame me. Whose blood is that on your shorts?"

"It's not mine. I was first on the scene of an accident."

"With the referee?"

"That one as well."

"Say no more - especially to your mother."

"There's nothing to worry about; the situation is under control. We were the stars of the first half - a real surprise package."

"That I can believe. Hasn't anybody objected to your playing?"

"The powers that be all think it's to their advantage."

"Mr Carey can't - what possessed him to pick on you?"

"He was short in the boy department."

"And so are you. What's the bloody man thinking of? He must be a total barmpot."

"An ocean-going one, dad - you're a shrewd judge of character. That's why you're such a successful estate agent."

"Don't change the subject - how did he get you involved?"

"Mr Carey remembered Jeffrey was a flyer, and came round specially to beg his help. We couldn't refuse in his hour of need."

"So it's Jeffrey, today, is it, Denise?"

"More or less, Mr Jones - I'm well established as Jeffrey at school. I could be in a bit of bother if there's any fuss. I hope you won't let the cat out of the bag."

"He's Mikey's girlfriend to their side, my boyfriend to our side, and we'd better be plain Smith and Jones to you, so your impartiality isn't questioned - got it?"

"My mind's boggling."

"It's turn and turn about - another double reversal for you, dad, or it may even be a triple. All clear, now?"

"Jeffrey's not really Mikey's girlfriend, is he?"

"No way - Mikey's been doing some irresponsible boasting to his pals with those pictures he took- you know how it is at that age."

"Yes, Susie, I've just come from a very enlightening interview. I didn't know Mikey wet the bed."

"Don't be too hard on him - he can't help having an overactive imagination. He'll grow out of it, like me."

"I won't hold my breath."

"Just so you're completely up to date, I'm a boy as well, by the way."

"Nobody would believe that, either... where are your ..."

"Under wraps. It's a matter of keeping down appearances. It's in everyone's interest to turn a blind eye."

"Not mine."

"Yes, it is. Think of it this way - I'll be fulfilling your fondest wish."

"What's that?"

"I'll be marrying a star rugby player after all. Wait until you see Jeffrey unleash his potential; you'll be gobsmacked."

"I already am, Susie."

"That's okay, then. There's no more time to talk now - you're wanted for the kick-off. Away you go, and take note of our sophisticated interplay - you may learn something."

Mr Jones hesitated, and then a mischievous gleam came into his eye. "Right, my girl, if that's the way you want it. You've given me plenty of armchair advice - let's see how you fare at the sharp end."

"I'll make you proud of me," Susie grinned.

"But not a word to your mother."

"It'll be our little secret."

"And ours, Jeffrey," Mr Jones smiled. "But go easy on the jujitsu, I don't want any more unfortunate incidents."

"Thanks, sir, I'll be sticking to the rules."

"But look after, Susie," Mr Jones winked, "I can turn a blind eye as well - if you know what I mean." He patted me on the shoulder, before turning away and loping back to the middle.

"What did I tell you, Jeffrey - dad's as pleased as punch."

"Is he, Susie?"

"Absolutely - the only thing is - we should up our game a bit. We don't want dad thinking we're a pair of soft lads. Let's show him we're chips off the old block."

"I hope that doesn't mean putting my head in where it hurts."

"Not exactly, Jeffrey, but there'll have to be less footy and more ball handling. We'll have to get some mud on our shorts - and maybe a split lip or two."

"I've had enough trouble in that area, Susie - I don't want a trout pout as well. Or a pair of black eyes - we'll have to prove our manliness at someone else's expense, while maintaining our cautious approach."

"I'll follow your lead, Jeffrey, and you can trust me not to do anything rash, but we mustn't let slip this heaven-sent opportunity to score some Brownie points with dad."

"Hell, Susie, if I'd known he was coming, I'd have baked a cake."

"And he would have thanked you for it, Jeffrey."

 

Chapter 93

"Get away from the ball, Susie."

"It's following me, Jeffrey. The blooming thing's bouncing like a jumping jack."

"Quick, over here - the enemy are arriving in force."

"Ooohh, it's under my feet."

"Kick it - don't fall on it, Susie."

"Ooooops!"

Splaaaattt!

"Charge boys, charge!" Major Blenkinsopp shrieked. "Make the breakthrough."

"Watch out, Susie!"

"My ball," the leading forward whooped, and threw himself on top of her.

"Oooooffff!"

"Round and heel, round and heel." The Major urged.

"Where's the cavalry, Jeffrey?" Susie cried, before a sea of purple shirts engulfed her.

"Cover your head - I'm coming."

"You're closest, Marwood, don't just stand there," Mr Carey yelled. "Plunge in and help."

"I'm taking a breather behind the lines."

"Never mind that - jump to it."

"I'm jiggered and I've a really bad stitch."

"You're in the right place at the right time for a change; this is a chance to redeem yourself. Give it all you've got - no more excuses."

"I've smushed ears and swollen feet."

"Ignore them - go down fighting and take one out with you. Get in behind him, Smith, and use those haunches."

"Allez-oop!" I took Marwood by surprise and propelled his bulk forward. "Come on, raise some steam."

"Leggo - this is so unfair," he protested, as we picked up speed.

"We have to save Susie - little fingers, don't forget."

"Stop it - we're supposed to be best pals."

"We are - I'm giving you a chance to do some happy slapping and make an early exit. Flail your arms about and stand by to ram."

"Oooooooooofff! " A head rebounded off Marwood's stomach. "Leave me alone!" he howled, and lashed out at his attacker.

Smaaaaaaccckk!

"Ooooowwwww!"

"That's right - give him the old one-two."

Smaaaaaaccckk! Another wild swing hit home.

"Aaaaaaarrrggh! You fat toad - I'll get you for that." The furious Heightonian grasped Marwood's man-boobs and squeezed. "See how you like this."

"Yaroooo! Geroff, you beast!"

"And this." His assailant screwed the mounds of flesh in opposite directions.

"Oooooooowww! You bloody bounder!" A fighting mad Marwood launched himself into the air and belly-flopped onto his tormentor.

"Oooooooohhh!" Who staggered backwards, and over they went.

"Oooooooofff!"

"Oooooooofff!"

"Well done, Bri - a perfect body slam. Keep on fouling - don't let him up."

"I won't, Free - you can rely on me." He spread himself out and began bouncing on his grounded foe.

"Oooooooofff! Oooooooofff! Oooooooofff!"

"What are you waiting for, ref - why aren't you blowing?" I shouted to a flustered Mr Jones.

Phw! Phwtt!

"I'm having trouble with my whistle."

"Never mind that -the ruck's out of control - a whole lot of stomping's going on."

Phweeeeeeee! Phweeeeeeee!

"It's okay now."

"Hurry -they've gone mad - help me get to Susie." I seized a handful of Heightonian hair and yanked.

"Oooooowww!"

Phweeeeeeee! Phweeeeeeee!

"Break it up, break it up!" Mr Jones yelled into the scrimmage.

Phweeeeeeee! Phweeeeeeee!

"Do something, ref, they're taking no notice."

"Dangerous play, lower the leg." Mr Jones pushed his way in.

"It's hands on, ref, hands on."

Phweeeeeeee! Phweeeeeeee!

"Dead ball!" Mr Jones seized a couple of shirt collars, and lifted up the top layer. "Break it up, break it up!"

"Get off there." I grabbed a stray Heightonian foot and twisted.

"Oooooowww!" The owner wheelbarrowed away, and I dodged aside as a freed body catapulted out from underneath.

"Aaaaaaarrrggh!"

"That had nothing to do with me, ref," Susie gasped, as she rolled clear. "What happened to him, Jeffrey?"

"Touch of cramp, probably. Come here." I bent down and helped her to her feet.

"You're a sight for sore thighs, Jeffrey."

"Are you all right, Susie?" Mr Jones asked anxiously.

"Fine, dad - just a few minor scars of battle."

"Oh God, what will your mother say?"

"Don't worry - I'm okay - attend to your refereeing. There's a duel to the death going on behind you."

"Take care of Susie, Jeffrey, while I separate those two." Mr Jones turned to where Marwood was feebly pummelling his winded attacker.

"What were you thinking of? You could have been killed."

"Don't exaggerate," Susie grinned. "Look, I've even hung on to the ball."

"You're supposed to release it - why didn't you throw it away?"

"What I have, I hold. I didn't want to show any sign of weakness - Mikey and dad were watching."

"You're not safe on your own - we should never have separated. We're ignoring Carey's pleadings and your dad's opinion, and sticking even closer together from now on."

"If you say so," Susie smiled.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Only superficial damage - they trampled all over my bottom; it'll be full of stud marks like yours."

"We can kiss each other's tender spots better tonight."

"You'll be kept busy, Jeffrey, one of the bugger's coconutted me, and another gave me a wedgie."

"That's always a danger when you're rucking."

"I didn't let them get away with it; I bit something in retaliation. Did you see him jump?"

"Shush, that's heinous offence - Tom Brown would have been flogged for it."

"I'm a picture of innocence."

"Let's give ten, before they start matching teeth marks."

"It was mainly an accident; it just popped into my mouth. I hope it was only a bloody nose."

"It is now - look."

Susie's victim was being escorted from the pitch with his shirt hitched up over his face.

"You're right, Jeffrey, we should steal silently away before dad has to make an embarrassing decision."

Luckily, Mr Jones was otherwise engaged. "It's red cards for both of you."

"Thanks." Marwood was on his way in an instant. He gave us the thumbs up as he passed "See you, Free and Zee."

His opponent was more reluctant to leave. "But, sir, I never raised a hand above shoulder height."

"You were at it hammer and tongs."

"He was the only one doing the punching."

"No arguing with the referee - I saw your sneaky underarm tactics."

"It was a legitimate tackle - you have to get hold of something."

"Off! Your actions were beyond the pale. I won't allow that sort of thing on my pitch; I have the welfare of other players to consider."

"You're a bally disgrace," he glared. "It is a contact sport. Up yours." He gave Mr Jones the finger and trudged away.

"Did you see how dad ignored that provocation, Jeffrey? He's really maturing; I was scared he might lose his temper and have to send himself off."

"He's done us a favour, Susie; they've lost an eager beaver in exchange for Marwood."

"This is like fifteen little Indian boys, Jeffrey; I wonder who'll be the next to go."

"That one, over there, with the clenched bum." I pointed to a boy waddling off, with his hand up his bottom.

"He's got the trots - another victim of the dreaded lurgy."

"It's 11 against 9 in our favour."

"If those pork pies keep on working their magic, we could win this."

"Give over kicking for touch, Smith, and make use of our extra men. You had a clear run there if you'd moved yourself."

"Sorry, I lack your tactical nous."

"No excuses - play up - I know you've more tries in you."

"I'm conserving my energy for a supreme late effort."

"That's right - we're both keeping a fresh pair of legs up our sleeves," Susie laughed.

"Use them now - they're on the attack!"

The opposing full-back had caught my kick, and was heading downfield. "Catch me if you can," he yelled in our direction.

"I think he's inviting us to the party, Jeffrey."

"That's Coker's best friend, Susie."

"Don't stand there admiring him, Smith. It's your fault for giving the ball away - get on his tail."

"I'll tag along behind, Susie - just for appearances sake." I moved off on a not quite intercept course.

"Make a good job of it, Jeffrey."

"I'll do my best," I promised, and settled in to play follow my leader.

"Trip him if you have to - don't let dad think you lack bottle."

"Close him down, Smith."

"No fear," I muttered, and held position just out of tackling range ... until ...

"Uh, Uh, Uh." The unaccustomed effort was taking its toll on Bolsover.

"Keep going, you silly beggar," I hissed, as I came up to his ample rear.

"Don't pat his backside, Smith, dive in low - he can't run without his legs."

"Uuuuhhh, Uuuuhhh, Uuuuhhh." Bolsover gasped for breath and slowed to almost a walk.

"Flatten him, Jeffrey! Dad expects."

I hadn't left enough braking distance - so there was only one thing for it.

"Oggy, oggy, oggy!"

I shut my eyes, flung myself forward, and executed a textbook flying tackle.

"Ooooooohhhh!"

Craaaasssshhh!

"How about that, Susie!" I cried from atop my quarry.

"You shocked the bugger, Jeffrey; you've made his head stand on end."

"Oooooowww!"

"Ooops, sorry, are you all right?"

"No!"

"It's Bully Bolsover, isn't it? This must be a dream come true for you - frolicking in the mud with me."

"Ooooooohhhh, Ooooooohhhh."

"Stop moaning, and get your hand off my bottom."

"I can't move it."

"Then, how come it's groping me?" I rolled away, got to my feet, and pulled him up by the offending arm.

"Aaaaaarrrrggghhh! Leggo - now you're twisting it. You've already bent it under me."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to - it was an accident. Give it a rub - you'll soon be okay."

Bolsover looked down and inspected the damage. "Aaaahhh, it's pointing the wrong way. Oooooer, I feel dizzy."

"So do I. Help, Susie - he's got two left hands!"

"I'm here, Jeffrey. Put his head between his legs, and leave it to me."

"Don't touch it!"

"Relax, and take a deep breath. I know what I'm doing - I've a certificate."

"Noooooo!" He jumped back and spun away from Susie's grasp. "Ooooooww!"

Plooooppp!

"That's done it - they're a pair again. You're as good as new. It must have been a slight dislocation of something or other."

"Ooooooohhhh."

"Nothing to worry about," I reassured him, "the ball's back in the socket. See if you can rotate your shoulder."

"Aaaarrrgghh." He tried, and fainted dead away.

"Whoops, catch, Jeffrey."

"Another one bites the dust, Susie," I smiled, and gently lowered another little rugby boy to the ground.

"Stretcher, ref!"

"Blenkinsopp doesn't look too pleased, Susie."

"Let's show the old misery guts we're good sports, Jeffrey."

We gave him a friendly wave as we jogged past back to our defensive positions.

"I saw you trying to influence the referee."

"He was admiring our first aid skills, that's all."

"Humbug!"

"Please yourself," Susie snorted, "but for our swift action, your player would have had his arm in a sling for a month."

"Your dad may have been a trifle injudicious," I whispered. "Patting me on the head and saying 'nice one, son, that's the way to do it' could lead to a steward's inquiry."

"Dad's an enthusiast, and your tackle was worthy of an action replay. What came over you, Jeffrey?"

"It all happened in a flash, Susie. I didn't want to let him score - and I may have had some thoughts of impressing your dad - and you."

"And Mr Carey, Jeffrey - we may even deliver his famous victory. They've only eight men left; we'll prevail by sheer weight of numbers at this rate."

I looked around and did a quick head count.

"The funny thing is, Susie, we've only eight as well."

"Three rats have deserted us, Jeffrey. They must have coughed their way past Old Harry - he is too soft-hearted."

"You let them in for another try."

"No, we didn't - it was on the other side of the field."

"That's where one of you should be."

"We work as team; we play as if we're joined by a rope, like all the top defensive partnerships. Nobody will come between us."

"They don't have to - they're outflanking you. It's 19 - 10 now - we're going backwards."

"Have patience our strategy will triumph in the end. Explain it to him, Jeffrey."

"Susie's X and I'm Y, but as a pair we're not X plus Y - our powers are multiplied - we're X times Y. That's why we have to stick together."

"Very well put, Jeffrey - cool and calculating in the heat of battle. Wait a minute, though ... what if X and Y equal 1?"

"This is no time for nit-picking."

"I'm not, Jeffrey - you're a 10 to me."

"Same here, Susie."

"Careful, Jeffrey, you're in danger of another close encounter."

"Get back down there!" I left the Heightonian sprawling in the mud with a selection of my nails in his hair, and gathered up the ball.

"He nearly had my eye out, ref, and his mate tripped me. You're letting them get away with murder."

"Play on, play on."

"I wish your dad would hurry up and blow a final little blast on his whistle, Susie."

"Me too - it's been scrum, scrum, scrum. All this standing around is worse than hockey. I'm cold - pass it over, and I'll have a run."

"Here, but stay close to your dad, and if someone comes in tackling distance, get rid of it."

"I'll dispatch it in a professional manner, Jeffrey." Susie took the ball in her stride and hared off.

"Come on, Mr Jones, don't hang about. We have to protect Susie - she's your only daughter."

"I can't keep up - I didn't know she could sprint like that."

"Pass! Pass!" Our remaining enthusiast cried, as she went by.

"Get your own ball." Susie showed she knew how to sell a dummy, and used him to swerve round an oncoming opponent.

Craaaasssshhh!

"Aaaaaaarrrgh!"

Who collided with our man.

"Aaaaaaarrrgh!"

"Kick for touch, Susie, before it's too late."

"Ooooooeeeerrr!" Susie checked her stride and her feet went from under her as she skidded on a muddy patch. "I'm out of control, Jeffrey."

The ball spilled from her grasp, bounced, and was met by her flailing boot.

Thwwaaaccckkk!

"Look at it go, Susie."

Splooossshhh!

"Aaaawwwww!"

"You caught it flush on the sweet spot."

"And I executed the perfect follow through, Jeffrey - but a wet one," she groaned, as I helped her up.

We watched the ball soar high between the posts.

"Never mind, Susie, you've scored a perfect drop goal."

"Three points to me, Jeffrey, and a pair of squelchy shorts to boot," she grimaced, and eased them away from her bottom. "Oooohhh, I'm glad there's not long to go."

"The worst of it is, Susie - it's 19 - 13, and we won't have a quiet last five minutes. You've given Old Harry new hope - he wants to see us."

We ambled over to the touchline while the two latest casualties were being carried off.

"Double, double concussion, there, Jeffrey - Parrot won't be repeating this afternoon's event at school on Monday."

"It couldn't have happened to a nicer person, Susie; I think he may have had it in for me."

"Well done, Miss Jones," Mr Carey greeted us. "You've got your name on the score sheet. Now all we need is one last effort from you, Smith."

"We haven't a full team between us - wouldn't it be the sensible thing to abandon hostilities?"

"Never! If it's a war of attrition Blenkinsopp wants, I won't blink first. If we have the last man standing, we'll win."

"You'll have the last girl standing, I can guarantee you that."

"Just the kind of fighting talk we need - you're a credit to the school, Miss Jones."

"We both are - you ain't seen nothing yet. Come on, Jeffrey, let's get back into the thick of it."

"I wish you wouldn't make rash promises, Susie," I moaned, when we were out of earshot. "It just builds up expectations."

"We're on a roll, Jeffrey. Carey's right - this is too good a chance to miss."

"No, it isn't."

"I'm not suffering a chapped bum for nothing. Dad will be bursting with pride before we've finished. Buck up, Jeffrey, glory awaits us."

 

Chapter 94

"This may surprise you, Susie, but I'm ready to give it a go. The truth is, I don't like coming second in anything."

"I'm well aware of your competitive streak, Jeffrey."

"But you wouldn't expect me to display it on the rugby field."

"Do I detect a hint of a glint in your eye?"

"We're down to seven a side - the purest form of the game. With the wide open spaces, I may have the chance to pounce."

"I feel exactly the same - very pouncey. What's the plan?"

"Are you familiar with the inside scissors movement, Susie?"

"Inside, outside, and shake it all about, Jeffrey - I can do the lot in my sleep. Sunday teatime, dad plays over his game on the kitchen table with the cast of Star Wars. He's Obi-Wan Kenobi, the fount of all wisdom."

"And now's the time to prove you've been a diligent pupil, Susie, because opportunity is about to knock."

The Heightonian fly-half had launched a high up-and-under.

"I think the ball is going to land in our court, Jeffrey."

Mr Carey had no doubts. "This one has your name on it, Smith," he yelled. "Take it all the way back, and show them some real class."

"It's now or never, Susie, They aren't bothering to follow up - they think it's all over."

"They're knackered, Jeffrey, but they may get a second wind when they see you running with it."

"Move yourself, Smith, the ref's looking at his watch."

"Seven points is all we need, Susie, and you did promise Mr Carey a win."

"Well, it wouldn't hurt our future relationship with him."

"Then, here we go," I grinned, and positioned myself to receive the ball. "For the honour of the school and all that."

"Be careful, Jeffrey - it's a long run from here to the line, and there's many a slip."

"It's too late for second thoughts, Susie." I caught the ball cleanly and tucked it under my arm. "Do you remember the words of Mr Bossom?"

"No."

"This isn't cricket, Jeffrey."

"I don't know any rugby songs."

"I should hope not. But with your limited experience of all things rugby, are you sure about this?"

"I've outrun a pig, a bull, and a homicidal maniac. One thing I have inherited from my dad is a fine turn of speed and a deceptive swerve."

"Okay, then, what should I do?"

"Head for that gap in the middle - I'm taking the scenic route - I'll catch you up."

"See you under the posts, Jeffrey."

Susie set off down the centre, and I sprinted for the touchline.

"That's the idea, Smith," Carey screamed, when I jinked past their winger and showed him a clean pair of heels. "On, on, on!"

I cut inside and set course for Susie. "This way," I called to her.

"Coming, Jeffrey."

"Run through them, you little beauties. Their bottle's gone - they're a bunch of weary willies."

Not all of them - the remnants of Coker's gang were converging on us. "Are you ready, Susie?"

"And waiting, Jeffrey."

"Scissors, Susie!" I cried, as we crossed paths.

"Got it, Jeffrey! I'm away."

We executed the move perfectly, and wrong-footed the opposition.

"The job's not done, Smith, give support."

I was already turning, and I arced round after Susie.

"Keep going," I shouted, as the full-back rushed to cut her off.

"Where are you, Jeffrey?"

"Here!" I caught up just before she was forced into touch. "Over to me."

Susie flung the ball across. "Play up, Jeffrey! play up! and play the game!"

"Perfect pass, Susie."

"Go, Smith!"

I had wide-open spaces in front of me. The try line beckoned - but then ...

"Ooohh!" I felt a distinct loosening around my chest, and checked my stride.

"Don't ease up, Smith - he's behind you."

"Shake hands with Clappy, you little filly."

I accelerated away - he missed my ponytail, but grabbed my collar.

Rrrrrrrriiiiiiiippp!

"Oh, crikey!"

"Come here, missy."

Rrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiippp!

"Aaaahhhhhh, Susie, I lost my shirt!"

"Don't look back, Jeffrey, you're losing him."

"No you're not," he hollered, and dived forward.

I went into overdrive, but his fingers hooked in my waistband, and he clung on.

Rrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiippp!

"Oooooohhhhh!"

"There's something wrong with your bloody kit," Susie shouted at Mr Carey. "It's been washed once too often."

Splooossshhhh!

"Aaaaawwwww!"

I left Clapp face-down in the mud, with my shorts as a prize.

"Watch out, Jeffrey, you've come unstuck. You're trailing clouds of glory."

"Oh, what should I do, Susie?"

"Don't fiddle with yourself, Smith, you're still decent, but you won't be if you hang about."

I leapt away as Clapp sprang from the ground.

"Got you!" he seized the end of my bandage and started to reel me in.

"No, you haven't!" I gave up on the tug-of-war and spun away.

"Twirl, Smith, twirl!"

"That's right, Jeffrey - show them your ballet steps."

I gracefully pirouetted the last five metres to the line and touched down under the posts.

"We've done it, Susie!"

Phweeeeeeee! Phweeeeeeee!

Mr Jones blew for a try, and I threw up my arms in triumph.

"Don't, Jeffrey, you've totally unravelled."

"Streaker, streaker, streaker!"

"Oggy, oggy, oggy!"

I had both sides cheering for me.

"More, more, more!"

"Cover up, Jeffrey!"

"Aaaaawww! " I dropped my hands across my chest and huddled there, almost stark naked. "Get me some clothes, Susie."

"Come here, Sir Walter Raleigh." Susie grabbed Geller by the sleeve and dragged him along. "Do the decent thing."

He didn't need much encouragement; he tore off his shirt and raced up to me. "What are you hiding under there, Smithy?" he smirked, and tried to peer down my front.

"Nothing - just keeping out the wind."

"We'll see." He dangled his oversize top before me. "Go on, take it."

"Give it here." Susie snatched it away and got between us. "Dive in, Jeffrey, this will reach to your knees."

I thrust my arms and head through, and pulled it down over my bottom. "What are you staring at, Geller?"

"It looks like a mini-dress on you; it goes with the ponytail and girl's knickers. I can't wait to see you in your Children in Need getup. Will you be wearing a bra to match your panties?"

"Only in the line of duty - quit ogling." I snatched up the ball for extra protection, and his gaze shifted downwards.

"You've great legs as well - they'll be perfect all neat in black stockings."

"Will you lay off, Geller, it's not up to me - Susie's in charge of the wardrobe."

"And I can't take requests - our outfits have to be in character."

"Your sponsors should have a say in them; that's the whole point."

"Things are at an early stage - we haven't any yet."

"I could organise that for you."

"We'll bear it in mind," Susie promised.

"And I can come to rehearsals and make suggestions."

"We're still ... er ..."

"What, Smithy?"

"Errrr ..."

"Get on with the game, Smith, we still need the extra points."

I breathed a sigh of relief as Mr Carey came to my rescue. "Sorry, Geller, can't stop - thanks for the cover-up."

"How about I take some publicity photos?"

"Smith!"

"I really have to go now, or Carey will have it in for me."

"Okay, we'll talk about it later. Will you be having a shower with us?"

"No!"

"I only asked."

"Come on, Susie." I took her by the arm, and we scooted away.

"Can I do the honours?" Susie grinned, when I'd spotted the ball. "I'm good at this."

"It's all yours - take a run at it."

Thwwaaack!

"Ow, my suffering toes."

"Never mind, you're on target."

The ball flew over the crossbar, between the posts, and the Heightonian touch judges reluctantly raised their flags.

"How about that for a conversion, dad?" Susie cried.

"Well done, Princess!" Phweeeeeeee! Phweeeeeeee! Mr Jones blew for the end of hostilities.

"20 - 19 to us."

"It was a damn close run thing, Jeffrey."

"If we hadn't been here, I don't think we would have won it, Susie."

"I hope someone captured our try of the season on camera; our interpassing was a thing of rare beauty. It deserves commemorating - come here, Jeffrey."

"I hope that and getting the clothes torn off my back meets with your dad's manly approval," I gasped, after we broke up from our celebratory kiss.

"Not only his, Jeffrey - someone else is giving you his blessing as well."

"Yeeeeeesssss! Yeeeeeesssss! Yeeeeeesssss!" Old Harry was still punching the air in triumph.

Blenkinsopp wasn't so happy. "There should have been ten minutes of injury time," he protested to Mr Jones.

"I allowed for that - the match is over."

"It can't be - the first half ended early as well."

"That had nothing to do with me."

"It has everything to do with you."

"Oh, give over, Blenkinsopp, it's only a game, after all," Mr Carey smirked.

"And you put up a fine show under difficult circumstances, Major. It was an honourable narrow defeat."

"That's not good enough."

"This is no time for sour grapes; we should be congratulating, Mr Carey on recognising the potential of such an unlikely pair of debutantes."

"And I'm going to thank them properly." Carey left Blenkinsopp arguing with Mr Jones and rushed over to greet us. "Come here, my little bobby-dazzlers."

"What about that, then?" Susie beamed. "I told you to leave it to us - we timed our effort to perfection."

"This is a triumph for me - and the school. If only Caroline were here to witness it, my happiness would be complete," Carey exulted.

"Mine will be if you keep your promise about games and P.E."

"I certainly will, Smith, and I'll further show my appreciation by making an exception in your case." Mr Carey leant over and surprised me with a kiss smack on the lips.

"Oh, Susie!"

"Never mind 'Oh, Susie', what about me?"

"A hand shake for you, Miss Jones, anything more would be improper. But Smith has permission to pass my best wishes on to you."

"Come here again, Jeffrey."

Smooooooch!

"That's enough for now." Mr Carey separated us and put his arm around my shoulder. "Ah, Smith, what a partnership you and Davies would make. Your inside scissors would be something to behold."

"Don't go getting any ideas - this was strictly a one-off."

"Quite, quite, I'll honour our agreement, but ..."

"No 'buts' - and I have to go. I'm feeling a bit exposed like this. It's time I withdrew and made myself decent."

"Yes, we are attracting some unwelcome attention - better make yourselves scarce. I'm having the ball, but you can keep the shirts as a souvenir."

"They'll hang in a place of honour on our wall," Susie smiled.

"Don't be so enthusiastic - you'll give him ideas," I hissed in her ear. "Come on, it's time we were making tracks." I waved Mr Carey goodbye. "Thank you, sir, and could you gloss over my part in this at assembly on Monday."

"I always give credit where it's due, Smith, but I'll spread it around and mention no names. Get yourself home - I've more gloating to do."

"You can mention my name, and that I won the match with the last kick of the game," Susie called after him.

"Give over, and let's be out of here. Come on, hurry up."

"Wait, Jeffrey - what's the commotion?" Susie stopped and turned back before we'd gone ten paces.

"There's trouble brewing - which is why we should make haste in the opposite direction."

"Just a minute, this could be interesting."

The Heightonian captain had leant his weight to Blenkinsopp's objections. "We were shafted, sir, they got away with fouls and forward passes galore. The referee's that pair's dad." He pointed an accusing finger at us.

"What! Is this true, Mr Jones?"

"Well ..."

"No, he's not - he's my dad." Mikey arrived and joined in the argument.

"That's right - I'm an interested party, so I had to be extra considerate to our visitors. I didn't want to be accused of bias."

"We've lost our unbeaten home record thanks to you. Your performance was a disgrace, and now I know why."

"I put myself out for you. I should have been resting my knee for Sunday."

"Is that why you were always late on the scene when those two were creating mayhem?"

"It was nothing more than spirited play on their behalf. I was proud of them."

"You're condemned by your own words."

"I called it as I saw it. I've had enough of your whining." Mr Jones dismissed him with a wave of the hand.

"Don't lose your temper, dad."

"I won't, Susie. I'll make a dignified departure." He barged past Blenkinsopp and set off for the carpark. "Hurry up, Mikey, your mother will be wondering where we've got to. Are you coming, Susie?"

"We're on our bikes - see you later, dad."

"Bye, sir."

"Bye for now, and straight home - no diversions."

"He couldn't answer my case - he had guilt written all over him," Blenkinsopp fumed, as he watched Mr Jones limp away. "The half-time result should stand."

"We won - and it's official. He was your choice, Major, and we shook hands on it. Stop whinging, we trounced you fair and square."

"No, you didn't, Carey, you played girls on your team."

"And we still won. Maybe I should sound out Miss Hearnshaw about starting a ladies' rugby team - see if you can beat them."

"The result's null and void; the game was a travesty."

"Show me in the rules where it says they have to be boys."

"It's not in the Corinthian spirit. My lads are true sportsmen; they were inhibited from tackling."

"They never knew."

"Of course they did - we discussed it at half-time."

"Then it's your own fault. You didn't complain when you were winning."

"I was put in an impossible position as an officer and a gentleman."

"If you were Japanese, you'd fall on your sword," Susie grinned. "We humiliated you."

"I've heard quite enough from you, young lady."

"They pulled the wool over your eyes, sir; you should have listened to me." Coker hobbled his way to the front of the gathering throng.

"Not now, boy."

"They did the fouling, and I got sent off for it."

"It served you right," Susie exclaimed. "A bully got his just desserts."

"Shut up, or I'll give you a bloody nose to go with your sprog's black eyes."

"Hey, you admit you hit our Mikey."

"Yes - so what?"

"So this, bully boy."

Splaaaaaaaaaaaattt!

"Aaargh! you liddle ..."

Coker lurched forward at Susie, and into my front leg sweep.

Splooooooossshhh!

That sent him sprawling full length into another puddle.

"You'd better stay down there," Susie threatened' "We've plenty more tricks in our locker."

"See, your girls are taking advantage of my boys again - Coker's a true knight - he won't strike back."

"Your Sir Galahad flattened the referee."

"He was provoked by your pair of hussies."

"They're no such thing."

"I have the evidence to prove it - speak up, boys."

"She twisted Bolsover's arm back to front, and the ref congratulated her."

"And she bit my nose and got away scot free."

"Sporting incidents," Susie protested. "We never made a fuss about our matching stud marks."

"That's right - they were more sinned against than sinning."

"Nonsense, Carey, I'm seeing them in their true light now." Blenkinsopp exclaimed, and emphasised the point by jabbing him in the chest.

"Don't you prod me."

"Hit him back," Susie urged. "Be a retaliator - it's the only way to deal with his kind, on and off the field."

"He'd better not; Major Blenkinsopp boxed for his regiment," came a cry from the crowd. "Spifflicate him, sir."

"Our Mr Carey is a black belt in karate," Susie countered. "He's been trained to kill a man with one blow."

"No, I haven't."

"Shush, he doesn't know that."

"Our sports master can beat your sports master any day."

"No, he can't."

"Boys, boys, calm down - this is no way to behave."

"Those girls are worse - they've assaulted me twice for no reason." Coker grimaced in pain as he tried to get up. "They've crocked my other knee as well."

"We offer you our sincere apologies for any damage caused, don't we, Susie?"

"I'm willing to bury the hatchet, Jeffrey."

"Then, grab an arm, Susie."

"Get away from me!" Coker reeled back and splashed down again.

"My two are little angels, and he's spurned their offer of reconciliation."

"We don't hold it against him, Mr Carey, do we, Susie?"

"Definitely not, Jeffrey, he's being set a bad example by his older and betters."

"It's always the same, Susie - the kids get the blame for the grown-ups' mistakes," I sighed.

"We should be one big happy family celebrating completing the match under trying conditions, Jeffrey."

"They're right, Blenkinsopp, we've been behaving like children. Let's put aside our differences. Here, give me a hand to help your boy up."

"Very well, but the matter's not closed. After you, Claude."

"No - after you, Cecil."

They hesitated - and then bent down together.

"Oooooowww!"

"Aaaarrrgghh!"

"You rotter, Carey - you did that on purpose - you lured me into it."

"No way, I've a bigger bump than you."

"Mine's bleeding." Blenkinsopp held his hand over his eye.

"Where? Let me see."

"Get away - don't invade my personal space."

"Watch where you're putting that stick." Carey snatched it in mid-jab and broke it across his knee. "I warned you about poking."

"You're comprehensive swine, the lot of you. I'm reporting you to the rules committee. They know how to deal with your sort - you'll be thrown out of the league."

"He can't do that after what we've achieved, sir."

"You tell them, Willie." Geller helped Rotherham on his way to the front, and sent him crashing into Mr Carey.

"Ooooohhhh!" Old Harry threw out his arms as he stumbled into the Major.

"Keep your distance - I warned you."

"Get him, sir!" Eager hands thrust their retreating master back into the fray.

Slaaapppp!

"You punched me, Blenkinsopp."

"It was an accident."

"And so is this!"

Slaaaaappppp!

"Fight, fight!"

"Don't turn the other cheek - you'll lose face."

The Major closed his eyes and replied with a round-arm right.

Slaaaaaaaappppp!

And it was all out handbags between them.

Slaaaaaaaappppp!

Slaaaaaaaappppp!

Slaaaaaaaappppp!

"Give support, Rotherham - it's a captain's duty."

"Quit pushing, Geller, I've a badly bruised toe."

"Then, hop it!"

Geller gave a shove and sent him tripping into Coker.

"Get this smelly oik off me."

"Now's your chance, Willie, show him who's the boss," Geller urged, as Rotherham tried to disentangle himself.

"Help, Clappy - the plebs are ganging up on me."

"Rally to the Kipper, boys."

"Ooooowwww!" Rotherham went down under a crunching tackle.

"Cod army to the rescue!" Geller yelled. "Pile in, lads."

He charged forward, and wasn't lacking in support.

"What's happening, Susie? I didn't expect the peasant's revolt."

"No one expects the peasant's revolt, Jeffrey."

"I hope Mr Carey will be pleased with their show of class solidarity."

"They're certainly more enthusiastic about fighting than rugby."

"Well, we're not - it's time to take our leave." I took Susie's arm, and we set off across the field away from the melee.

"I've never seen someone in such high dudgeon as Blenkinsopp - not even dad or Uncle Frank."

"You must have, Susie. Still, he's probably annoyed enough to make this the last ever fixture between our two schools."

"And the crumpets and buns are definitely off the menu, Jeffrey."

"I don't think our etiquette is up to high tea, anyway."

"Our natural grace and bearing would have seen us through."

"Well, let's not stand on ceremony now," I cried, as a boot flew over our heads. "Come on - full pelt."

"I'll tell you what," Susie panted, when we reached the safety of the pavilion.

"What's that Susie?"

"After all this running about, I could demolish a chippy tea."

"Then, let's go." I released our bikes, and we started back across the field. "We can get a double helping on the way home."

"We're both a muddy mess, Jeffrey, and you've lost your eyelashes."

"I told you that glue was no good; I'm missing half my nails as well, and the rest are hanging by threads."

"And our ponytails have drooped - the rubber bands seem to have dissolved."

"They were another thing from the pound shop, Susie. I think it may be a false economy shopping there - the socket set didn't live up to expectations, either."

"Let that be a lesson to you about getting things on the cheap - it only leads to buyer's remorse."

"I noticed Aldi have false eyelashes and nails as 2.49 specials this weekend - and lipstick and mascara."

"It must be a sign from above, Jeffrey."

"I'll risk it and get a tenner's worth to practice with."

"You can dress up extra nice for your mother and me on Sunday."

"Turning up looking like this will be a surprise for mum. If she asks, we've been playing football, not rugby - I don't want to worry her."

"As long as she doesn't notice you're half-naked."

"I'm semi-dressed, which I'll be able to carry off because I've a clear conscience today -we both have, Susie."

"I always do, Jeffrey. What you really mean is we've nothing to hide after a quiet 24 hours."

"Relatively speaking - I just hope it continues."

"I can't promise that."

"I suppose there's only one thing to do, then, Susie."

"Right, Jeffrey."