pages 28 - 32

Boo Hoo Hoo
Boo Hoo Hoo
It took me hours to make those tarts, pinching all their little edgings, boiling up the jam as it frothed and settled, frothed and settled. Mixing and rolling and cutting the pastry into little rounds that sit just so in the tart tray. Oh the cheek of him, silently strolling in when my back is turned, and he just flogs them willy nilly and gobbles them up without not one thought for the work I’ve done!


One day Alice met her old school friend Rennay. (Alices’ mouth opened noticeably wide in surprise)
“Rennay – what’s happened . . . . You’ve become a tart!
“Got along a bit with Jack I did”
“Yes but you didn’t have to become a tart!’
“’S Automatic once you sleep with him, didn’t you know his mother’s the Queen of tarts”
“No I thought she was the Queen of . . . .. But surely he could at least marry you with all those babies” ( Rennay had behind her a gaggle of children all falling about each other)
“What’s the point of getting married, I’ve already got all the babies I need. You only get married to ‘ave babies.”

Alice wondered what she could do to help. Maybe we could pick some fruit and I could make some jam or preserves for your babies.
“Got all the jam I need love.”

“How many babies have you got Rennay”, asked Alice looking down for they seemed to be everywhere.
“ 18” said Rennay
“ Eighteen!” said Alice, that’s a lot. . .”
“One for each go at it”, said Rennay.
“You get a baby each time!” started Alice, visibly appalled.
“Yep” said Rennay, suddenly looking doubtful.
“Is it worth it?” enquired Alice
“Small price to pay for a baby” said Rennay.

There was a moment when they had to look around a bit to each gather their thoughts because they had not seen each other for so long it was difficult to make conversation, that with the gentle clamour of 18 babies.

“Anyway why are you still wearing that puffed sleeved dress”, asked Rennay, drawn to pick at Alice’s sleeve.
“It looks fit for a five year old. You must’ve had it 18 years.”
“Yes”, said Alice, “I’ve been wearing it 18 years and I can’t get it off.”
Then it dawned on Alice that Rennay was 18 and she had 18 children!

“the Queen of hearts . . . .” Alice began because she was curious . . .
“It’s all a big front!” blurted Rennay, “It’s just a great big tart factory – they plan to take over the world!”

“It’s all a big front!” Rennay said again, as if the first time she may have been speaking only to herself. “And another thing, Jack is not really her son!”
“Not her son!” exclaimed Alice, willing to join in.
“No, he’s her lover”.
“ Her lover . . . I thought he was your lover!”
“He is the lover of lovers and she keeps him in the castle as her ‘son’ so no-one will know and so he’s handy like.”
“But what about the king, surely he knows? He’s no dimwit. Not a clue?”

Could this be true ? thought Alice


Could this be true?
Some things were true. Some things were not what they seemed and somethings that you thought could not possibly be true because you hadn’t even thought them, were true simply because no-one could think them up. But Rennay had thought this AND also said it.


It’s just a bureaucratic bungle. The people I judge aren’t even real. Their crimes are so petty, I don’t know why I have to waste my time. I cut off all their heads and still nobody notices! The bugger who stole my tarts has still not been apprehended.