‘Did he wave? I think he waved….’
Maude’s steering suffered a
little as she did a double-take while passing the shop-front.
The girls persisted with their
rendition of a Queen classic – stamping their feet and clapping to a perfectly
wrong tempo:
‘We will, we will ROCK YOU!’
I was in the back with Aurora –
as she took her hairband off and head-banged a little.
‘Casta, bet you can’t do this
while you’re singing?’
‘Anyway’, I asked, ‘what does a
wave from the man who runs the village chip-shop signify – that you’ve arrived,
that you’re ‘in’? Or do you just want extra batter scraps on your next chip supper?’
Aurora found that my thigh
delivered a resounding beat when she slapped it:
‘You got mud on your face, you
big butthead!’
‘It’s ‘disgrace’ – that’s rude
and it doesn’t rhyme’.
‘I waved’, said Maude, ‘because I
like to get along with people.’
The girls stopped singing for a
moment and chortled a little. I urged Aurora to start up again and offered my
thigh.
‘I don’t know why you’ve all gone
quiet. I do prefer to get along with people – it’s nice to be nice.’
Casta began to improvise:
‘We will, we will rocky rock
you!’
‘Anyway, you of all people should
keep in with local businessmen – you might get a job. No point in tweeting the
few arts people you didn’t directly offend every now and again – they’re no use
to you.’
‘I know that, but when I said I’d
taken a laminated cv into the chip-shop last week, I was joking.’
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