Vile Visitors by Diana Wynne Jones Page A

put his foot down on the loud pedal and slammed into the old song he was learning to play, How Shall I My True-love Know? He’s only got as far as that one. Tony says he’d know Pip’s True-love anywhere: she’s tone deaf, with a stutter. She sounds worse with the loud pedal down.
    Angus Flint was explaining in his loud jolly voice that he’d taken up Yoga since his wife left him. “You should all do Yoga,” he said. “It’s very profound. It—” He stopped. Pip’s True-love did a booming stutter and made a wrong note. Angus Flint roared, “Stop fooling with that piano, can’t you! I’m talking.”
    â€œI’ve got to practise,” Pip said.
    â€œNot while I’m here,” said Angus Flint. Then, before I could do anything, he sprang up and lifted Pip off the piano-stool by his hair. It hurt Pip a lot – as I found out later for myself – but Pip managed to walk out of the room and not even look as if he were crying. My parents were stunned. They are just far too polite to guests. But I’m not.
    â€œDo that again,” I said, “and I shall personally see that you suffer.”

    All I got from Angus Flint was a blank angry stare, and he went back to my chair. “This is a stupid chair,” he said. “It’s far too low.” The Stare turned out to be his great weapon. He used it on anything he disliked. I kept getting it. Mostly, it was over shutting the window. It’s such a big window that, when it’s open, it’s like having half the sitting-room wall missing. I got colder and colder. I thought Tony’s imaginary germs must have gone by now, so I got up and shut it.
    Angus Flint did not stop his loud jolly talk to Dad. He just got up and opened it again, talking all the time. I wasn’t having that, so I got up and shut it. Angus Flint got up and opened it. I forget how many times we did this. In between, Angus Flint patted Menace. At least – I think he thought he was patting Menace, but Menace had every excuse to think he was being beaten.
    â€œGood little dog, this,” Angus Flint kept saying. Clout, thump!
    â€œDon’t hit him so hard,” I said. I got the Stare again, so I got up and shut the window. While Angus Flint was opening it, Menace saved his ribs from being broken by squeezing under one of the cupboards and staying there. The space was small even for a dachshund.

enace didn’t even come out from under the cupboard for supper, although it smelt delicious. Mum cooks her best food for visitors.
    Mum’s turn to be insulted. Angus Flint cut off a very small corner of his chops and nibbled it like a rabbit. “This is nice, Margaret!” he said. He sounded thoroughly surprised, as if Mum was famous for cooking fried toads in snail sauce. Then he went on telling Dad that the current government was very profound. Mum was looking stormy and Dad seemed crushed by then. So I told Angus Flint that it wasn’t profound at all. I didn’t see why I shouldn’t. After all, I am going to have the vote one day. But I got the Stare Treatment again, and then Angus Flint said, “I don’t want to listen to childish nonsense.”
    I felt almost crushed too. I was glad it was Celebs Have Talent on the telly. Pip and I did the washing up in order to see it, and Tony got out of bed – he’d watch that programme if he was dying. We were all crouched around the television, ready to go, when Angus Flint came bustling in from the sitting room where Mum was giving him polite coffee, and turned it over to the other channel. We all yelled at him.
    â€œBut you must watch Girls Galore ,” he said. “It’s very profound.”
    Very profound my left fibula! It’s one of those awful series about girls sharing a flat. They undress a lot, which accounts for Angus Flint finding it profound. And he stood over the knob, too, so we couldn’t turn it