Phil's note had mysteriously appeared in Jo's pigeon-hole by the front desk. It must have been hand-delivered.

Jo said, "How will I get a letter back to him?"

I said, "You won't, unless you want to jog over to Woolfe Academy disguised as a sea cadet."

She said, "Well that settles it then, you have to come, otherwise his mates will turn up and feel like lemons."

And she stomped off like it was a done deal.

I said to Vaisey, "The fly in her argument is that when she says, 'they' will feel like lemons, we don't know who 'they' are. And 'they' might BE lemons."

CHAPTER 11.

Night of the Vampire Bats

Surely Phil might have mentioned if one of his mates

had a trunk...

Idon't know why I am so bothered about this 'date'.

I'm not even officially on the date.

We had to go and try and get permission from Sidone to go to the cinema at night time. She was in her inner chamber, um, I mean office. She was lying down on a chaise longue with a cup of tea.

"Darlings, I am ex-hausted, I had a call from a friend directing Cats and he has bled me dry. I have practically redesigned the whole thing lying on this chaise longue. Sit, sit."

We sat, sat.

"It beggars belief that he would only realise he didn't have enough cat costumes the day before he opens. They can be an ugly, demanding crowd in Cleckheaton. I know, I gave my Ophelia there and someone called the social services. Sometimes this profession is a tyranny. Still, darlings, you came to see me for something?"

I said, "We'd like to go to the cinema in Skipley on Wednesday night, because we were thinking that for the lunchtime performance we could, um, use some of the ideas and themes from the film."

She was very, very interested. Unfortunately. And swept her hair back. "What are you thinking? What is this germ, this shoot you are nurturing? Is it an interior idea? What is the film?"

And Jo said, "Well...it's called...Night of the Vampire Bats."

She said, "Yes, and what is it about?"

Jo said helpfully, "It's set at night."

Sidone was looking into the distance and twirling her earrings. "Ah, the night. The mysterious, shadowy underworld that covers so many, many broken dreams."

I thought she was going to start crying she was so moved by her broken dreams.

Jo stumbled on, "But, but, really I think it's about...um...an interior darkness."

I was just about to say, "That bats must feel because they can't see much." But luckily Sidone stood up.

"Marvellous! I utterly see where you are going with this...it's the long dark night of the soul, isn't it?"

I was inwardly thinking, you can say that again, but outwardly saying, "Um."

Anyway, we are allowed to go. Amazingly.

As we came out of her office, she shouted after us, "Strive, strive for authenticity, my dears. Even when you feel the cold tremors of fear and bleakness tearing and biting at your heels."

As we closed the door to her inner sanctum, I said, "I think I can feel my feet beginning to bleed quite a lot."

I was exhausted from lying. I'm so useless at it.

Vaisey said to Jo, "You said that Night of the Vampire Bats was about interior darkness."

I said, "Well it will be. It's really dark in the cinema."

Jo was pleased because we had got away with it. She shook her little head and said, "Yes, OK, it is about bats...but mostly...it's...about my very first date!!!!"

I said bitterly, "It's alright for you, but me and Vaisey don't know if we are officially on a date or just part of an away-day package supersaver. Three for the price of one."

Jo looked up at both of us and said, "I know you are doing this for me, and I'd just like to say thank you, my new friends."

And she gave us a friendly biff on the arm to show how very pleased she was.

For a small girl she packs quite a punch.

As we strolled to the gates to go home, I shouted back, "Didn't you say that Phil is too small for you?"

Jo shouted back like I was a bit thick, "Tallulah, it's the cinema. We'll be sitting down."

The next evening, in the dressing room of life. Otherwise known as Vaisey's room in The Blind Pig. Even though I am on a not-really-date, I am still nervous.

I have make-up on and Vaisey has made my hair go va va voom with her hairdryer. Anyway, now Vaisey and Ruby want me to try a red dress on. It's Vaisey's and she says it's too long for her.

I said, "No, I don't wear dresses."

They both went on and on, and Ruby even made Matilda lift her paw up and look at me.

As if she was saying in dog language, "Please put the dress on, otherwise I may never eat another Bonio treat again."

It was pathetic. But it worked, because in the end I agreed to at least try on the dress. I went behind the door. It was a bit tight getting it on.

I said, "It's too small for me. I can't lift my arms up."

Vaisey said, "Come out and show us."

Ruby said, "You've left your cardigan and jeans on."

I said, "It's all the rage."

She said, "No, it's not. You look like the Sheriff of Nottingham."

I said, "I have to have them...on...in case I get cold."

Ruby said, "Take them off. Now."

In the end I went behind the door and took off my stuff and put on the dress. When I came out I could see myself in the mirror.

The dress came to mid-thigh. Which in normal legs would mean a third of the way down your leg. In my case, it meant that it was an eighth of the way down my leg.

No one actually said anything at first, they just looked at my legs even Matilda.

Then Ruby said, "I think it looks brill."

Vaisey was nodding.

Matilda was nodding too. But it may be fleas.

Then Ruby suddenly said, "Oy, you're getting lady bumps!!! I can see 'em."

What what???

I put my arms over my front.

"Oooooh, give us a look."

I said, "I'm not a horse. You'll be feeling my fetlocks in a minute."

In fact Ruby did try to feel them.

I wanted to skip around shouting, "I've got corkers!" But I didn't, because Ruby would quite likely yell downstairs to her dad.

But I am deeply down secretly thrilled.

I am so very right to keep up my secret rubbing practices.

When we were ready I told Ruby, "No you cannot sneak out with us and sit in the back row, spying for a laugh."

On our way out to catch the bus we passed Mr Barraclough in the bar combing the hair of one of his stuffed stags. He had given it a centre parting, which is not respectful of a noble breed. But I didn't say.

He did glance up as we passed and said to Ruby, "Where's the other big lad gone?"

And then he looked at me and said, "Oh, there you are."

I said to Ruby, "It's very hard to think that your dad, is, well, Alex's dad. Alex not around then?"

Ruby rolled her eyes.

When we got to the bus stop Jo was there waiting for us. Hopping about. Which was a bit odd because she was also sitting on the wall.

She looked lovely. All shiny and dark. Mad, but shiny and dark also. She was wearing a wrapover top and a rough-cut denim skirt with wedgie shoes. And a lot of bangles and necklaces.

She said, "Do I look alright? Would you snog me?"

I said, "What? Now?"

And me and Ruby and Vaisey laughed.

But Jo wasn't in a laughy mood.

She was in an 'I've gone mad' mood.

On and on. Is he too short? Am I too short? What is too short??

Ruby said, "Jo, if I were thee, I'd stick to smiling a lot. And shut your gob for the rest of the time. See thee later. Vaisey, make sure you tell me all about it."

The bus came and we got on. And it was only then that I thought of something.

"What if they get on at the next stop? That's where they got off last time. What if they get on and we have to do sitting down hello for the first time? How do you do sitting down hello?"

None of us knew, and then I thought of something worse.

"What if Phil's mates are big hairy psychopaths? I saw a cartoon thing and a person on a plane was sitting down next to an empty seat, thinking 'oh, good, I've got lots of room' and behind him this massive one-eyed bloke with a trunk was shambling down the aisle towards the seat."

Vaisey said, "Surely Phil might have mentioned if one of his mates had a trunk?"

Jo said, "Of course he would. Anyway, I think it's the kind of thing you would notice when he said 'my two mates'. You'd sort of know somehow if one of them had a trunk."