Lula Does the Hula (18 page)

The ball came punching over the net and hit me in the ear.

My team howled as it ricocheted to the floor.

‘Sorry, sorry!’ I said, holding my ear.

‘Concentrate!’ bellowed Carrie.

I flinched. Carrie is seriously competitive and seriously good at ball sports. She is frightening with a hockey stick and I know for a fact she’s drawn blood – an accident, apparently – in a basketball game against the PSG first team.

When the next ball came my way, I got right underneath it, hands gripped together, thumbs at the ready to take the thwack. It was further left than I expected and I had to lunge, but I got to it. I gave it my best shot, though Jessica still had to help it over the net. She got a great volley in and the ball thudded to the ground on the other side.

‘Yesss!’ we all cried, and I punched the air.

‘NYEEEP!’

I dropped like a stone.

‘Tallulah! Get up!’ bellowed Mr VDM. ‘Everyone’s ready for the next point.’

‘Can’t move!’ I gasped. ‘Help! Help!’

‘Don’t be pathetic!’ VD came over and yanked me up by the arm.

My body convulsed as the spasm hit again, and I saw my teacher’s eyes widen in sudden remorse. ‘Oh, Tallulah!’ he said, lowering me to the floor. ‘Your back is sore?’

‘Yes,’ I ground out. ‘
Like I said
.’

‘You should have told me you had an injury!’ he lamented, his accent getting thicker with the outrage of withheld information.

‘I DID!’ I yelled, and winced at the stabbing pain.

‘Don’t get cheeky. I meant to say you should have described your ailment to me in detail.’

‘It’s from sex,’ said Jessica helpfully.

‘Rampant sex,’ added Delilah.

‘Stop saying that!’ I shouted. ‘It’s not true!’

VD went very red. ‘Er . . .’ he said.

‘NO!’ I yelled. ‘Alex! C’mon!’

‘I don’t know if I can help you here, Tatty,’ said Alex. ‘Really, you’re impossible to micro-manage.’

‘It was the hula dancing,’ I pleaded. ‘Then the running.’

‘So there
was
pelvic thrusting involved,’ said Jessica.
‘See, I know the human body. I think I should be a doctor.’

The whole class erupted in dissuading her from this folly. Jessica in charge of a person’s life was a frightening thought.

‘Who were you hula dancing with?’ she demanded. ‘You sure it wasn’t salsa? Salsa is way sexier.’

‘Get me out of here,’ I begged.

It was clear to me that, if Alex didn’t step in, another rumour would be doing the rounds faster than Jessica Hartley could blow a kiss.

Frik.

And could I even stand up for myself ? Ha ha. I could not.

A knock at my door. I was flat on my back in my bed. I couldn’t yell to come in because yelling hurt, so I just lay there. I wasn’t interested in talking to anyone. Great-aunt Phoebe had already been in, cosseting me and updating me on Biggins’s welfare.

Another knock. A polite wait and then my door creaked open.

‘Tallulah? Are you decent? Dr McCabe is here to see you.’

‘Yes,’ I whispered.

Mum appeared in the doorway. ‘Tallulah! Why aren’t you answering me? I thought you were asleep.’

‘Hurts.’

A polite male cough. ‘Hello, Tallulah.’

‘Hi, Dr McCabe.’

He laughed. ‘I never thought I’d see the day.’

Mum came over and stroked my forehead. ‘What do you mean, Edward?’

‘The witch girl hurt and everyone else all right. I mean, what are the chances?’

I rolled my eyes.

‘Tallulah! That’s terribly rude!’ scolded Mum. She turned to Dr McCabe. ‘Though, actually, I see Lu’s point. Those boys and their medical emergencies around Tallulah were all coincidences, and it’s not particularly kind of you to bring it up now.’

Dr McCabe looked at me for a beat too long. ‘Where does it hurt?’ he asked.

‘Lower back,’ I answered.

He put his bag down, rummaged around and then snapped gloves on. ‘Roll over.’

‘Can’t,’ I whispered.

Dr McCabe sighed and grabbed me by the left shoulder and hip, flipping me expertly.

‘AAAAARGH!’ I yelled. ‘OMIGOD GET OFF ME, YOU BUTCHER!’

‘Tallulah!’ gasped Mum. I couldn’t see her because I was face down in my pillow, struggling to breathe, but I could hear she was trying not to laugh.

Dr McCabe muttered something about lax parenting and ordered Mum to help me get undressed for an examination.

Lovely.

Getting nudey for the rubber gloves.

Just what every girl dreams of.

‘Can you sit back up, Tallulah?’ asked Mum.

‘Mum,’ I whimpered, ‘just cut my clothes off. I can’t. I honestly can’t.’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ said Dr McCabe. ‘Anne, I’m going to pop out to my car for a bigger Voltaren shot. Back in five, okay?’

He left the annexe and Mum got to work, pulling my clothes off gently.

‘Did he say a bigger shot?’ I asked Mum, my voice going a little high and stressy. ‘Does he mean like a more powerful drug, or a bigger needle?’

‘Relax, Lu,’ said Mum. ‘He hasn’t even examined you yet. Maybe you just need a bit of physio.’

‘Yeah, right,’ I replied. ‘Don’t you get that the man hates me? There’s going to be a needle. Huge. Maybe two.’

Mum laughed. ‘He does not hate you, Lula! I’ll go and make him a cup of tea, though, shall I? Just to sweeten him up?’

‘Don’t leave me!’ I begged. ‘Don’t go!’

‘Oh, Lu,’ said Mum, stroking the back of my head.
‘I’ll be back before Dr McCabe. I can hear him talking to Dad outside.’

She bustled out, leaving me butt naked on the bed.

After five minutes my eyes began to droop.
Don’t fall asleep!
I urged myself. Waking up to a shot in the ass would be no fun at all.

But the sun was on its way down, angling rays through my window and across my bed. I would have sighed at how wonderful it was just lying there in the warmth, not frantically scribbling homework or rushing around or doing chores, but sighing hurt too.

I closed my eyes.

There was knocking at the door again. I must have fallen asleep. I drew breath to call come in, but my muscles locked down and I gritted my teeth against the pain, squeezing my eyes shut. ‘Mum!’ I whispered hoarsely. ‘Please stop with the knocking. Just come in. How many times must I tell you: it hurts to yell out to you?’

‘Uhhh . . .’

My eyes flew open. There, in my bedroom doorway, stood Arnold Trenchard, while here on my bed was me NAKED, my ass in the air for all to see.

NO!

THIS COULD NOT BE!

‘AAARGH!’ I yelled, and tried to pull a throw over myself.

‘Don’t move!’ shouted Arnold. ‘I can see your – I can see – JUST LIE BACK DOWN!’

The worst spasm yet wracked my body and I buried my head in the pillow, willing myself not to scream, the throw clutched ineffectually in my hand, providing maximum coverage for all of my bed and none for me.

‘Do you want me to –? Should I cover your –? Lula –’

‘Go!’ I shrieked, still face down in the pillow.

‘Pardon?’ he asked, coming closer.

I tried to raise my head, tried to flap my arm at him to keep back, but the minute I tensed to lift my face from the pillow a stab of pain jolted my body again and I slumped back down, immobile.

‘So I’m guessing something’s wrong with you? I’m guessing this isn’t like, um, a seduction plan that I’ve stumbled in on? Oh, geez, I bet it is. Is Jack coming round?’

I turned my head very slowly and carefully. I could just about see him through the hair that had scraped across my face.

‘Hurt. My. Back.’

Arnold continued to stand frozen at my bedside.

I was overwhelmed. Incredulous. Suddenly CROSS. ‘Arnold. You are witnessing a person in pain. I cannot move to cover myself and you are
standing there
,
STARING AT MY ASS
for, like,
the second time
in, what,
three weeks
? My mother is going to come in here and
go into orbit
!’

I took a shuddering breath.

And then he was reaching over me for the throw, and covering my body.

‘Um,’ he said.

There was a very long silence.

I think my entire body had gone scarlet with embarrassment. I wondered if it were possible for toenails to blush. Then I wondered if my butt looked big. Then I wondered what the frik Arnold was thinking right now.

‘Uh,’ he said. ‘So . . .’

‘So what the hell is this?’ Bludgeon loomed large behind Arnold, who stepped aside hurriedly, going bright red.

‘Bludgeon?’ I whispered. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

‘Whoa,’ he said. ‘Put your kit on, babe. I tell ya, if this were, like, a ’undred years ago, I’d be, like, ooh I can see yer ankles! Naked ankles! Ooh! Ooh!’

‘I don’t want to live any more,’ I whispered. ‘Someone cut off my head.’

‘Oh,’ said Bludgeon, looking from me to Arnold to me. ‘Am I disturbin’ somethin’ ’ere? Yeesh, Tatty, sorry, babe. I’ll go now.’

‘Wait.’ But my voice didn’t work. I swallowed.

‘I’ll come back another time, yeah? Maybe I phone you. Jus’ wannid to talk about that thing you wannid Mr K to keep an eye on for ya.’

‘Wait!’ I whispered. ‘Is Jack okay?’

‘Well . . .’ said Bludgeon, and he looked uncomfortably at my ankles. ‘Let me ring ya, yeah?’

‘Tell me!’ I hissed. ‘Tell me now – what’s happened?’

Suddenly the door to my annexe banged open. Who now? Who else in this town would like to gather round while I was naked?

‘ARNOLD!’ shrieked Mum from the doorway. ‘This is not a good time! And who are you?’

‘Uh,’ said Arnold again. I sensed that he wished he’d never met the Bird family.

Bludgeon stepped forward, holding out his hand. ‘Hi, Mrs B. I’m Bludgeon, Fat Angus’s brother. We met the night of the fire, yeah?’

‘Yes,’ said Mum. ‘Lovely, lovely. Please leave. You too, Arnold.’

‘Wait!’ I whispered.

‘Dr McCabe is on his way, dear,’ added Mum. ‘Out, boys.’

Bludgeon and Arnold left, murmuring to each other, while my mind whirled. Was Jack okay? No, he couldn’t be. Not if Bludgeon had come here to talk to me about him.

What the frik had happened now?

‘If you want to carry on running, missy,’ intoned Dr McCabe, packing away his vile hypodermics and sundry drugs, ‘you’re going to have to start rowing.’

‘Excuse me?’ I whispered. The Voltaren shot had been seriously painful, but my body was feeling decidedly ecstatic. Maybe I was hallucinating right now.

‘What a good idea!’ exclaimed Mum, carefully pulling pyjama trousers up my legs. ‘To strengthen the back, Edward?’

‘Exactly!’ proclaimed Dr McCabe. ‘You’ve seen my Matilda?’

‘I have!’ said Mum. ‘I bet she’s never had a moment’s trouble with anything like the pain Lula’s feeling. She looks really strong.’

‘Quite!’

Even with my face squished against the pillow, I could see how this was not going to go my way.

‘Erm,’ I said. ‘I don’t really have time for rowing.’

‘Nonsense!’ said Mum.

‘Mr van der Merwe said no newbies on the squad.’

‘Nonsense!’ said Dr McCabe. ‘Vanessa Ohlssen was just at the surgery with a stress fracture in her shin, and
Matilda was fretting about replacing the bow.’

‘The bow? Stress fracture? No. No. I’m not strong enough to be a rower, Dr McCabe. Not like your Matilda.’ A prickle of panic was starting to lap at my consciousness. It made me speak a little too fast.

‘But that is precisely my point,’ said Dr McCabe, clipping his bag shut and standing up tall. ‘Do you want to have that core of deep muscular strength? A muscle tone that will keep you hale and hearty all your days? Or are you content to be ringing me every five minutes so I can come round with my big needles?’

‘Oh,’ said Mum. ‘Oh, goodness, Lu.’ She grabbed at Dr McCabe’s forearm. ‘When is the next session, Edward? Will Tallulah be fit for that?’

‘You should aim to get her on the bus for Wednesday’s session,’ said Dr McCabe. ‘Tallulah will be right as rain in a couple of hours, but she’ll need bed rest tomorrow. Definitely no running for quite some time.’

I thought of how much chocolate I consumed in any one day. How many calories I had to burn. ‘I
must
run,’ I moaned. ‘I
need
to run.’

‘First the rowing,’ said Dr McCabe. ‘It’ll strengthen that weak back of yours. Then you can start running again. In maybe six months.’

‘
Six months!
’ I squeaked. I was going to look like Kung Fu Panda after
six days
.

‘Ha ha ha.’ Pen had appeared at my bedside, rustling a paper. ‘Weak back, eh? Maybe if you did some bending over backwards for me you wouldn’t be in this condition. Ha ha.’

I had a brief flash of hatred. ‘I’m always bending over backwards for you!’

Mum was murmuring assurances to the evil man who called himself a doctor. He said his goodbyes and left. Pen turned to go too.

‘Pen! You get back here!’ I whispered. ‘I need you!’

She glanced over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised. ‘Hmm. Could cost you.’

Oh, how my life sucked. How it sucked!