WORM'OLE

Milky's only friend was Wormhole. What a Banana Split ! They went on bike rides together like girls on their ponies, all sat upright and ringing their shiney bells on each corner. Right from the first term at school they'd stand detached at the coach stop, the only 2 boys with leather briefcases. They were last to board, seats at the front. We all slung our dufflecoats on the shelf and pushed to the back. Milky and Worm'ole kept their briefcases on their knees like old bags taking their cats in baskets to the vets. They were first off at school, running to class, so eager to do their fractions.
The Worm'oles went to the Family Methodist Chapel down close to the village off-license where he lived. I went round there once. One of those things mums organize when they meet up the shops and waste a whole saturday morning of their son's lives due to it. You know, go and play with Worm'ole, 'e ain got no-one to play wiv... This was before Milky took him in. You can't tell them why he has got no one to play with. Well, this is the reason why : their little house was the sort they put on the lids of Lego sets, green pebbledash, a front garden 3 strides deep behind a complex, knee-high wall, crazy paving pink and white, a bay window sufficiently large for 2 faces and a dog.

Mrs Worm'ole opened the door. 2 damaged front teeth made her voice phut her words, her tongue landing in the wrong place.

Howdy Thedric. Her'th Thedric, Gwayam.

Bo-Peep Cottage. There had been even a fishtank like a jam jar with minnows and a three-foot high grandfather clock. I was virtually as tall as Mrs Worm'ole even then. Full-size Gwayam was at the kitchen table with his model galleon kit in pools of glue all stuck to paper which followed him round the house because Mrs Worm'ole insisted he took my shoes out the back and fetched some felt slippers for me to wear. She'd cut them in one piece from felt underlay and sowed them with waxed string. Gwayam was in a daze.
Well thun ? His mummy claimed. Are not you pleathed ? Thedric's come to help you glue your thip.

I was given a pitcher of Lemon Barley water and a chocy digey, unstuck part 7 from 49 and stuck it to part 6. This was all I could manage against Worm'ole's adonoidal sulks.

Let me do it, I wanna do it, Marm, it isn't fair, why'd 'e aff to come an' force 'is nose in...

Well, I never went round there again. Once, at the coach stop, probably from guilt, the memory of that saturday when his galleon probably petrified into a wreck once the glue went hard, he actually looked at me and announced : watcha Thedric.

Daz gave me a queer look and said : watch yerself, Wormface.

The Cow's Gate Gang frequently held meetings on Milky White. One favorite topic was : What Milky and Worm'ole Do At Bo-Peep Cottage. Skinny reckoned they played snap with those 2 inch long cards you got in Pullins. Daz stated that they played tiny travel draughts. Dodge said they played football with a marble.

Only a technique to find out , I claimed.

half of the problem with this pair was that there was just about no chink in their perfection. Once we followed Milky down there, a big box of Scalectrix under his arm. The Worm'oles were stern Methodists too and denied themselves pleasure or anything not considered educational. No television or electric games. No cartoon comics, no tea or coffee or beer. All of them went to bed at nine o'clock and Mr Worm'ole got up at 5.30 to work at the dairy. We were fortunate that afternoon. The most important room was obviously downstairs so they set the Scalectrix up in the Parlour. It was full of Bibles and prayer books. We made a decision Mrs Worm'ole was like some of our mums who took it in turns to wash the village football team strip after the Sat. matches. Mrs Worm'ole must've brought all of the Prayer Books home after the Sun. Service to give them a dusting. Well, heathen Milky made tunnels and grandstands out of them while Worm'ole kept going to the door to make sure his mummy didn't check.

Milky had a Rolph Harris Stylo-phone too and a Junior Drum Kit. Once we sneaked along the cinders path back of Milky's house and heard them jamming, Milky screaming :

No you clot, just go bum, bum-bum...bum, bum-bum. You go bum, I go I, you go bum-bum, I am going was born, you go bum, I am going under a,bum-bum, star.

It was barely the victory we sought, but next time at the bus stop Daz related :

We know where you were born, White.

No you do not.

And we all joined in and told him : You were born, under a bum, bum-bum...
He was impervious, just straightened his college tie, pretended to shine his college badge with the back of his hand and looked away. Xmas was a fortnight off, so in a loud voice he is saying to Worm'ole : when i get my electrical guitar for Christmas we'll rehearse our concert for the Scouts Xmas Party. It'll be a big hit and we'll be on Top of The Pops.

The Cow's Gate Gang was going to do much better to get one over Milky White.

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