The Taming Of The Tights
The tights run wild and free in this hilarious new novel from the Queen of Comedy!Tallulah Casey is putting all thoughts of wild boy Cain behind her. He is literally an animal in trousers… oo-er. Not like nice boy Charlie (who she’s totally not thinking about either).The Tree Sisters are chasing those golden slippers of applause at performing arts college but Dr Lightowler seems hell-bent on spoiling everything for Tallulah.And with all her mates loved up, can Tallulah resist the call of her wild boy?
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First published in Great Britain in hardback
by HarperCollins Childrenâs Books in 2013
HarperCollins Childrenâs Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,
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Copyright © Louise Rennison 2013
Source ISBN 9780007323920
Ebook Edition © July 2013 ISBN: 9780007476404
Version: 2018-07-16
Dear Eagle-eyed mates,
Some of you may remember that in âA Midsummer Tights Dreamâ
I hilariously (in my opinion) mentioned that my mum and sister
would not let me have the dead rabbit in Cainâs hand wave its
paw bye-bye to Tallulah.
I said at the time (and Iâm not wrong) that it is a tip-top comedy idea.
But oh no â my so-called family said it would make me seem âchildishâ â which clearly I am not. Anyway, I hid this book from them so
the crying rabbit is in, see here.
So ha ha ha ha for calling me childish.
Peace.
To my Family Tree and my Tree Sisters and Tree Brothers and
to the various saps â I mean â saplings. Also to the naughty
Skipton Flossies (Katie and Eve).
And of course to the Tree Doctors with their Tree pruning,
Tree mulching and their Tree hugging: Gillie, Lizzie, Tara,
Elorine, Clare, Cassie (actually officially a sap) and Gillon xxxx
CONTENTS
Chapter 1: Filling my tights again
Chapter 2: Lullahâs Lulu-luuuve List
Chapter 3: Return of the lunatic twins
Chapter 4: Snogs ahoy!
Chapter 5: The Blubberhouses Large Ladies Who Pole Dance For Fun Society
Chapter 6: Boy Ambush
Chapter 7: You donât want to do any more winking back
Chapter 8: The fire escape of desire
Chapter 9: Iâve eaten snail shells
Chapter 10: Snogging and Jazzles
Chapter 11: The magic of puppetry
Chapter 12: Return of the beast in trousers
Chapter 13: See you there, cheeky miss
Chapter 14: My inner snogger
Chapter 15: Naughty bumberskite
Chapter 16: The church bells of doom
Chapter 17: Should I put nail varnish on my hoofs?
Chapter 18: The Dark Black Crow of Heckmondwhite
Chapter 19: Heâs got the right amount of lip
Chapter 20: Praise the knees!
Chapter 21: Fir-cone earrings and knitted onesies
Chapter 22: The Taming of the Tights
Extract: The Corker-holding with winter socks scene
Georgiaâs Ace Gang Snogging Scale
Woo-hoo! And chug-a-lug-a-ding-dong. Iâm on the train, chugging back to Dother Hall, the Theatre of Dreams.
Once more getting ready to fill my performance tights! Chasing the golden slippers of success! Preparing to let my feet bleed if necessary. Thatâs what Sidone Beaver, our headmistress, says we must do if we want to be stars in the thea-tah, dahlings!!! And this term Iâm going to fill my tights as much as is humanly possible!!!!
Who would have thought that I, me, Tallulah Casey, a gangly Irish person, would be back here for the autumn term at a Performing Arts College in the heart of the famous Dales of Yorkshire? Ooh, I think weâre stopping at Skipley station. Iâll get my case down and hop off.
Uuuumph. Jumping Jehosophat and his dad, itâs bouncing down. Skipley is famous for its otters. Iâm not surprised. If this rain keeps up, Iâll be part otter by Wednesday.
Skipley is so proud of its otters that the station sign reads Skipley Home of the West Riding Otter.
But last time I was here some Yorkshire hooligan altered the sign so it read Skipley Home of the West Riding Botty.
Honestly â¦
I am squelching across towards it. Thatâs where Cain was standing when I left at the end of last term. Cain Hinchcliff. Local bad boy made ⦠er, bad.
I remember him winking at me as the train pulled out. With his dark hair whipping around his face and his dark eyes looking and looking at me. Licking his lips. Holding a dead rabbit in his hand. Making the dead rabbit he had in his hand wave its paw at me. And rub its eye with its paw as if it was crying.
He thinks that kind of thing is funny.
I dragged my case along the platform towards the sign. I hope itâs been cleaned up because it doesnât give a very good impression of the ⦠Hang on a minute, the hooligan has been at it again! Now the sign reads
