Monstrous Regiment - Terry Pratchett [97]
“You think so?” said Blouse. “Oh, well, if you’re really sure.”
“And, er, if you do meet a guard, er, old women don’t usually try to, try to—”
“—canoodle—” cut in Maladict, whose mind had clearly being hurtling down the same horrible slope.
“—canoodle with them,” Polly added, blushing, and then, after a second’s thought, added, “Unless she’s had a glass of sherry, anyway.”
“And I do thuggetht you go and have a thhave, thur…”
“Thhave?” said Blouse.
“Shave, sir,” said Polly. “I’ll lay out the kit, sir.”
“Ooh, yes. Of course. Don’t see many old women with beards, eh? Except my Auntie Parthenope, as I recall. And…er…no one’s got a couple of balloons, have they?” asked the lieutenant.
“Er, why, sir?” said Tonker.
“A big bosom always gets a laugh,” said Blouse. He looked around the row of faces. “Not a good idea, perhaps? I got a huge round of applause as the Widow Trembler in ’Tis Pity She’s a Tree. No?”
“I think Igor could sew something a bit more, er, realistic, sir,” said Polly.
“Really? Oh, well, if you really think so,” said Blouse dejectedly. “I’ll just go and get myself into character.”
He disappeared into the building’s only other room. After a few seconds, the rest of them heard him reciting “lawks, my poor feet!” in varying tones of fingernail screech.
The squad went into a huddle.
“What was all that about?” said Tonker.
“He was talking about the theater,” said Maladict.
“What’s that?”
“An Abomination Unto Nuggan, of course,” said the vampire. “It’d take too long to explain, dear child. People pretending to be other people to tell a story in a huge room where the world is a different place. Other people sitting and watching them and eating chocolate. Very, very Abominable.”
“I would like to eat chocolates in a great big room where the world is a different place,” mumbled Lofty sadly.
“I saw a Punch and Judy show in the town once,” said Shufti. “Then they dragged the man away and it became an Abomination.”
“I remember that,” said Polly. Crocodiles should not be seen to eat figures of authority, apparently, although until the puppet show no one in the town knew what a crocodile was. The bit where the clown had beaten his wife had also contravened Abomination, because he’d used a stick thicker than the regulation one inch.
“The lieutenant won’t last a minute, you know,” she said.
“Yes, but he won’t listen, will he,” said Igorina. “I’ll do the best with my scissorth and needle to make a woman of him but—”
“Igorina, when it’s you talking about this sort of thing, some very strange pictures turn up in my head,” said Maladict.
“Sorry,” said Igorina.
“Can you pray for him, Wazzer?” said Polly. “I think we’re going to need a miracle here.”
Wazzer obediently closed her eyes and folded her hands for a moment and then said shyly: “I’m afraid She says it will take more than a turkey.”
“Wazz?” said Polly, “do you really—” Then she stopped, with the bright little face watching her.
“Yes, I do,” said Wazzer. “I really talk to the Duchess.”
“Yeah, well, I used to, too,” snapped Tonker. “I used to beg her, once upon a time. That stupid face just stared and did nothing. She never stopped anything. All that stuff, all that stupid—” The girl stopped, too many words blocking her brain. “Anyway, why should she talk to you?”
“Because I listen,” said Wazzer quietly.
“And what does she say?”
“Sometimes she just cries.”
“She cries?”
“Because there are so many things that people want, and she can’t give them anything.”
Wazzer gave them all one of her smiles that lit up the room.
“But everything will be fine when I am in the right place,” she said.
“Well, that’s all right, then—” Polly began, in that cloud of deep embarrassment that Wazzer called up within her.
“Yeah, right,” said Tonker. “But I’m not praying to anyone, okay? Ever again. I don’t like this, Wazz. You’re a decent kid, but I don’t like the way you smile—” She stopped. “Oh, no…”
Polly stared at Wazzer. Her face was thin and all angles, and the