The World of David Walliams 5 Book Collection

“No, I think that’s everything,” said Dennis.

“If we think of anything else we’ll let you know,” added Lisa.

“Thank you so much,” said Mr Hawtrey sarcastically. “You know, it’s not always easy being a headmaster. Shouting at people all the time, telling them off, expelling them. I need to dress up like this to unwind.”

“Well that’s cool, but why don’t you try being a bit nicer to everyone?” asked Lisa.

“Utterly absurd idea,” replied Mr Hawtrey.

“See you on Monday then, Miss!” said Dennis laughing. “Sorry, I mean, Sir!”

Mr Hawtrey turned and began to run home as fast as his heels would let him. Just as he was about to disappear around the corner, he kicked his shoes off, picked them up and started sprinting.

Dennis and Lisa laughed so loudly they woke up the whole street.

21 Big Hairy Hands (#ulink_4cb2ab02-7975-538d-b880-265e6f9d8b01)

“What are you wearing that for?” asked Dad.

It was Monday morning and he was staring at Dennis, who was sitting at the kitchen table eating his Rice Krispies, and for the first time in a week wearing his school uniform.

“I’m going back to school today, Dad,” replied Dennis. “The headmaster has changed his mind about me being expelled.”

“He has? Why? He’s a nasty piece of work that man.”

“It’s a long story. I suppose he thought that the dressing up wasn’t so bad after all.”

“Well, he’s right. It isn’t. You know I was very proud of you out there on that pitch. You were very brave.”

“That boy really did kick me pretty hard,” said Dennis.

“I don’t just mean that. I mean going out there in a dress. That was brave. I wouldn’t be able to do it. You’re a great lad really, you are. It hasn’t been easy for you since your mum left. I’ve been very unhappy and I know sometimes I’ve taken it out on you and your brother, and I am sorry for that.”

“It’s OK, Dad. I still love you.”

Dad reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the photograph he had taken of his family at the beach.

“I didn’t have the heart to burn it, son. It’s just too painful for me to look at photos like that. I loved your mum very much you see? I still love her now, after everything. Being a grown-up is complicated like that. But it’s your photo, Dennis. You keep it safe.” Dad’s hand trembled as he passed the charred photograph back to his son. Dennis looked at it again, then slid it carefully into his breast pocket.

“Thanks, Dad,” he said.

“All right?” said John as he entered the room. “You coming back to school then?”

“Yeah,” replied Dennis.

“That stupid headmaster changed his mind,” added Dad.

“Well, I think you’re very brave going back,” said John as he put some stale slices of bread in the toaster. “Some of the older kids might pick on you.”

Dennis looked down at the lino.

“Well, you need to look after your brother then, don’t you, John?” said Dad.

“Yeah, I will. If anyone has a go, I’ll have a go back. You’re my brother and I’ll protect you.”

“Good boy, John,” said Dad, trying not to cry. “I’ve gotta go boys. I’ve gotta drive a load of bog rolls to Bradford.” He walked over to the door, and then turned back for a moment. “I am very proud of you both, you know. Whatever you do, you’ll always be my boys. You’re all I’ve got.” He couldn’t quite look at them as he spoke, and then he quickly left, shutting the door behind him.

Dennis and John looked at each other. It was as if an ice age had thawed, and the sun was shining for the first time in a million years.

“It’s a shame you missed the final,” said Dennis as they walked to school together.

“Yeah…” said John. “I just had to, you know, hang around outside the leisure centre with my mates.”

“That’s funny. I thought for a moment I saw your face in the crowd, but I suppose it must have been someone else.”

John coughed. “Well… actually, I sort of was there…”

“I knew it!” said Dennis, smiling. “Why didn’t you let on?”

“I was going to,” spluttered John. “But I just couldn’t run on to the pitch at the end and do all that hugging stuff. I wanted to, honest, but… I dunno. I’m sorry.”

“Well, I’m glad you were there, even if you didn’t tell me. You don’t need to be sorry.”

“Thanks. Sorry.”

They walked in silence for a moment.

“What I still don’t get though,” ventured John. “Is why you did it?”

“Did what?”

“Put on that dress in the first place.”

“I don’t know really,” said Dennis, a puzzled look crossing his face. “I suppose because it was fun.”

“Fun?” said John.

“Well you know when we were younger and we used to run around the garden pretending to be Daleks or Spiderman or whatever?”

“Yeah.”

“It felt like that. Like playing,” said Dennis confidently.

“I used to like playing,” said John, almost to himself, as they continued down the street.

“What the…?” said John, as he and Dennis entered Raj’s shop to find Raj resplendent in a bright green sari.

And wig.