Читать книгу The Complete Fab Confessions of Georgia Nicolson: Books 1-10 - Louise Rennison - Страница 12
ОглавлениеTuesday December 1st
11:00 a.m.
Mucho excitemondo! There is going to be a Christmas dance at Foxwood school. Slim announced it in assembly.
“Girls, there is to be a dance at Foxwood school, to celebrate Christmas, on December 12th, commencing at seven thirty.”
It was like something out of Four at Mallory Towers. Me and Rosie and Jas and Ellen went “Oooohhhhhhhhhhhhhh ooohhhhhhh!” for so long that Slim had to say “Settle, girls”. At last she went on, “To add to the festivities there will be a... band.” We started doing our “ooohhhing” again but Hawkeye glared at us so viciously we stopped.
I had thought of shouting “Three cheers for the Headmaster of Foxwood, and three for Merry England!” but I didn’t.
Slim still hadn’t finished. “The band will be The Stiff Dylans.”
Lunchtime
12:30 p.m.
Jas and me had a confab by the vending machine. Jas said, “Do you think we should go? I mean, Lindsay will be there, and Tom might... well, he might go with someone else and then we’d be like...”
“Two spare wotsits at a wedding?” I suggested.
4:00 p.m.
The most cringe-making thing in the Universe of Cringe-making Things happened this afternoon in RE. It was with Miss Wilson, who is not what you might call normal (still, who would be – teaching RE?). She is a very unfortunate person, with ginger hair in a sad bob, her tights are always wrinkly, plus she wears tragic cardigans, usually done up the wrong way. She is not blessed in the looks department, but worse than this, she has not got a personality – at all – none.
Mostly she just talks and we get on with writing notes to each other or filing our nails. Last summer Rosie was so relaxed that she started moisturising her legs during RE. It was so hot that we hadn’t been wearing stockings and Rosie put her legs on the desk and started putting cream on them. Well, even Miss Wilson noticed that. I remember she said, “Rosie, you’d better buck up your ideas and buck them up fast.” Which struck us as very funny indeed – we were still laughing hours later.
Anyway, this afternoon, for some reason, Miss Wilson got talking about personal hygiene. I swear I don’t know how she got there from religious education, maybe people in ancient Hebrew times cast someone out for being a smelly leper. I don’t know.
We just heard her say, “Yes, girls, I know how that person felt because when I was younger I had a BO problem myself and people used to avoid me. I never used to wash because I was an orphan and depressed... We just sat there staring at our desks whilst she went on and on about her body odour... it was AWFUL. I have never been so glad to get up and go to PE.
We all ran screaming into the showers and washed ourselves like loonies. Miss Stamp was amazed, she usually has to prod us and shout at us to get us to change at all in winter. She came and looked at us in the shower in amazement. Then we remembered she is a lesbian. So we ran screaming out of the shower.
It’s a bloody nightmare of pervs, this school. You’d be safer in Borstal.
8:00 p.m.
Jas came over for the night. We yattered on about a plan for the school dance.
9:00 p.m.
Looking through my bedroom window to see if we could see into next door’s bedroom window because I wanted to know what Mr Next Door wore to bed. Jas thought jimjams but I thought shortie nightshirt.
Then as we were looking we saw Mark (Bonfire Boy) coming up the street with a girl. They stopped under a lamppost but I couldn’t see what she looked like as they were kissing. Not in the shadows or anything, but under the lamp. We couldn’t stop watching and to get a better view we got up on to the window ledge. It was a tight squeeze but you could see everything. Then I heard tip tap tip tap and Libby came in, carrying her blanket (or blankin’ as she calls it – it’s not actually a blanket, it’s an old bra of Mum’s but she likes it and won’t let it go. It must have been white once but now it’s a horrible grey colour).
She spotted us on the window ledge and said, “Libby see.”
I said, “No, Libby, I’m coming down,” but then she started saying, “No, no, bad boy, bad boy... me see,” and hitting me with her blankin’ so that I had to lift her up. Honestly, I’m bullied by a three-year-old and a Scottish wildcat.
I lifted her up and she snuggled down in between me and Jas. She spotted the couple under the lamppost. “Oohh, look! Manlady manlady!!! Hahahaha.” It was a bit difficult knowing where Mark ended and the girl began but all was revealed when Mark stopped kissing and looked over her shoulder. Right up at my window. I don’t know if he could see us in the dark but we got down from the window ledge so quickly we fell on to my bed. Libby said, “More bouncy now!!!”
Pray God Mark didn’t see us spying.
Wednesday December 2nd
8:30 a.m.
Dashing out of the house, Jas and I almost fell into Mark, waiting by the corner. Jas (big pal) said she had to run to her house first and she would see me at school. I went a bit red and walked on with him walking beside me. He said, “Have you got a boyfriend?”
I was speechless. What is the right answer to that question? I tell you what the right answer is... a lie, that’s the right answer. So I said, “I’ve just come out of a heavy thing and I’m giving myself a bit of space.”
He looked at me. He really did have the biggest gob I have ever seen. “So is that no?”
And I just stood there and then this really weird thing happened... he touched my breast!!! I don’t mean he ripped my blouse off, he just rested his hand on the front of my breast. Just for a second, before he turned and went off to school.
12:30 p.m.
What does it mean when a boy rests his hand on your breast? Does it mean he has the mega-horn? Or was his hand just tired?
4:30 p.m.
Why am I even thinking about this? No sign of Mark (the breast molester) when I got home, thank goodness.
4:45 p.m.
Still, you would think if a boy rests his hand on your breast he might bother to see you sometime.
5:00 p.m.
Up in my bedroom “doing my homework” when the doorbell rang. I put down my magazine and answered it. It was Mark. He said, “I’ve dumped Ella, do you want to go to The Stiff Dylans gig?”
I said, “Er, well, er, yes thanks.”
He said, “OK, see you later.”
6:00 p.m.
On the phone to Jas, telling her about Mark, I said, “So then I said, ‘Er, yes,’ and he said, ‘OK, see you later.’”
Jas said, “See you later – what does that mean?”
I said, “I don’t know – who does know?... See me later tonight, or at the gig, or what?”
Jas said, “Well, do you like him?”
I thought about it. “I don’t really know. He makes me feel like a cobra, you know, all sort of funny and paralysed when the bloke starts playing the bugle thing.”
Jas said, “What do you mean? Your head starts bobbing around when he plays his instrument?”
I said, “Don’t start, Jas. Anyway, what do you think of him?”
Jas thought. “He’s got a very big mouth.”
I said, “Yes, I know,” and then she said, “But then so have you.”
Midnight
Oh-oh. What to do. Why is life so complicated? Do I like Mark? Why did I say yes? Why can’t Robbie realise that Lindsay is a drippy git? Ohhhhhhh. Quel dommage!!! Merde. Poo.
Monday December 7th
5:00 p.m.
Mark sent a note, which is quite sweet, except that it is very badly written:
Dear Georgia,
Away training till Saturday. Meet you at 8 at clock tower on Saturday.
Mark.
That’s it, then. I have no choice. I have to go with him.
9:00 p.m.
Mum comes into my room and says will I come down for a “talk”? I pray it’s nothing to do with personal hygiene or her and Dad’s relationship problems. Dad seems a bit nervous and he’s growing a moustache, how ridiculous, it looks like some small animal is just having a bit of a sleep on his top lip. He says, “Look, Georgie, you’re a young woman now (what was I before? a young horse?) and I don’t think there should be any secrets in our house (on the contrary, Vati, you will never know about the hand on the breast scenario even if hell freezes over), which is why I need to tell you that as work is so hard to find here in England I am flying off to Auckland straight after Christmas. I’ll be staying there for a month or two to get a feel for the place and to try a new job opening there. Then, when I get settled, your mum and you and Libbs can come out and see what you think.”
I said, “I know what I think of New Zealand, I have seen Neighbours.”
Mum said, “Well, that’s set in Australia.”
What is this, a family crisis or a geography test? I went on patiently, “My point is, Mutti and Vati, that it is very far away, I’m not from there, all my friends are here. Or to put it another way: I would rather let Noel Edmonds adopt me than set foot on New Zealand soil.”
We argued for ages – even Libby came down and joined in. She had dressed Angus up in her pyjamas and he had a bonnet on and a dummy in. I don’t know how she gets away with it; if I went anywhere near him with a bonnet he would have my hand off.
Midnight
So Vati is off to New Zealand. But that still doesn’t solve what I am going to be wearing for The Stiff Dylans gig.
Friday December 11th
2:50 p.m.
Christmas fever has set in at school. We all wore silver antlers in physics this afternoon. Herr Kamyer tried to join in with the joke by saying, “Oh ja, jingle bells, jingle bells.” It’s pathetic really. Also, why are his trousers so short? You can see acres of pale, hairy ankle between his trousers and his plaid socks. (Yes, I did say plaid socks, now that is not just sad, it’s double sad.)
8:00 p.m.
Mutti and Vati strangely quiet and nice to each other. I saw Dad put his arms round Mum in the kitchen. Also Libby was singing, “Dingle balls, dingle balls, dingle on the way,” and Dad got all sort of wet round the eyes. Honestly, I thought he was going to cry, which would have been horrific. He picked her up and hugged her really hard. Libby was furious, she called him “Bad, big uggy, bad,” and stuck her finger in his eye which made him cry properly.
Saturday December 12th
The Stiff Dylans!
7:00 a.m.
Damn, I didn’t mean to wake up so early. Still, it gives me lots of time to get ready for tonight. I thought first of all I would do my yoga, which I haven’t been able to fit into my busy schedule.
7:20 a.m.
Now I know why I don’t bother with yoga – it’s too hard, that’s why. When I did “dog pose” I thought I’d never be able to get up again. I’ll just have a lie down and relax with an uplifting book for a few minutes.
7:40 a.m.
I’m not reading the Tibetan Book of Living and Dying ever again. I’m not going to become a Buddhist if I might come back reincarnated as a stick insect.
7:50 a.m.
Cup of milky coffee and toast, yum yum yum. Mum has got a new Cosmo.
8:10 a.m.
Back in bed for a few minutes’ read. Hmmm, “What men say and what they mean”.
9:30 a.m.
If a boy says “See you later” it might mean, “Leave me alone, it was great while it lasted but I am not ready for anything more serious” or “See you later”.
9:40 a.m.
I am going to become a writer for Cosmo – you don’t have to make any sense at all. Or maybe I’ll be a bloke – they don’t have to make any sense either.
10:00 a.m.
I am going to wear my short black Lycra dress. Jas has already phoned five times and changed her mind about what to wear each time.
1:00 p.m.
Rosie has asked the foreign exchange guest student who is staying next door to come to The Stiff Dylans. I said, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” and she said, “He’s called Sven,” and I said, “Well, that’s what I mean.”
Rosie says he’s a “laugh”, whatever that means. She said, “He doesn’t speak any English but he is very tall.”
When I asked where he was from she said, “I don’t know. Denmark, I think. He’s blond.”
Apparently she asked him to go to The Stiff Dylans by pointing at him, pointing at herself and doing a bit of a dance. She’s bonkers. We arranged to go to Boots because we needed to have perfume for tonight and we can use the samples whilst we pretend we might buy them.
4:30 p.m.
Back home, covered in Palomo – I hope it wears off a bit as it’s making my eyes water. Also, I’ve got some new lip gloss which is supposed to plump up your lips. I’m not sure that this is such a good idea in my case, especially going with Mark. I wonder if the same rule applies to lips as does to breasts? I mean, if you use them more, I wonder if they get bigger?
5:00 p.m.
If using your lips does make your lips bigger, what on earth has Mark been up to? Am I going to let him kiss me? What does the hand on the breast mean? Do I want him to be my boyfriend? I don’t think he’s very bright but he might turn out to be a brilliant footballer like Beckham and then I could marry him and be kept in luxury.
5:10 p.m.
But then I’d be in all the papers. I’d have to have my nose done. I would have to be careful not to smile... what if I forgot? What if I got caught by the paparazzi smiling and my nose spreading all over my face... in the Daily Express?
5:15 p.m.
I can’t marry him, the pressure is just too much. I am losing my own self-esteem whilst he gets all the attention. I’ll have to explain to him tonight that it is all over.
6:00 p.m.
I feel a bit sick. I’ve got a bit of hair that will NOT go right, in a minute I am going to cut it off. Also, I think I have got knobbly knees. Maybe when I am Mark’s wife I could have fat injected into them (possibly taken from my nose, so it would be a two-in-one operation... smaller nose and fatter knees all in one swift plunge of the huge, hypodermic, fat-extractor needle... er, I really do feel sick...).
7:30 p.m.
I wish I had gone with Jas and Rosie, all in a big gang. Now it means I’ll have to walk in with Mark and everyone will look at me and think he’s my boyfriend.
Midnight
I cannot BELIEVE my life. Well, if you could call it a life... When I think about tonight I feel like staying in bed for the rest of it.
Mark was at the clock tower, smoking a fag... he looked sort of OK. When I got near him he grabbed me and gave me a kiss right on the mouth, no messing about. I was surprised and also a bit worried... maybe the hand would sneak up to the breast for a bit of a rest... but no.
Mark doesn’t seem to say much – after the kiss he took my hand and we started walking to the gig. It was a bit awkward because I am actually bigger than him, so I had to sort of let my shoulder down on one side like Quasimodo.
As soon as we got there Mark went to say hello to a few of his mates. Rosie’s Sven was a GIANT – about eight foot tall, with a crewcut. Jas was all moony and looked a bit pale. She said, “I wanted that anorexic model look, like I’ve been up partying all night. I want Tom to think I’ve not been thinking about him.”
The gig was packed, mostly boys on one side and girls on the other. Jas said, “Aren’t you going to talk to your boyfriend?”
Which is when Tom and Robbie walked in. They saw us and Robbie caught my eye and he smiled... I’d forgotten what a Sex God he is. He’s all muscly and dark and oohhhhh. I smiled back, a proper smile because I’d forgotten about my nose for the moment. Then from behind me came Lindsay and crossed over to Robbie. He had been smiling at her!!! My face was so red you could fry an egg on it. Robbie kissed Lindsay on the cheek. She had her hair up and was quite literally all ears. Yukko.
Robbie went up on stage and Tom was left by himself as wet Lindsay chatted to some of her stupid, sixth-form mates. Jas said, “Do you think I should go over and say something to him?”
I said, “Have some pride, Jas, he chose vegetables over you.” At that moment a dark-haired girl came out of the loos and went over to Tom. She put her hand on his arm and they went off together.
And it got worse.
The Stiff Dylans started playing and Mark came across to me, got hold of my hand and pulled me on to the dance floor. His Mick Jagger impersonation did not stop at the lips. He was a lunatic on the dance floor, strutting around with his hands on his hips. I nearly died. Then Sven joined in, dragging Rosie with him. His style of dancing was more Cossack, a lot of going down into a squat position and kicking his legs out. Then he lifted Rosie up above his head!!! He was whirling her around, going, “Oh ja, oh ja,” and Rosie was trying to keep people from seeing up her skirt.
And that is when I lost it. It was just too funny... Jas, Ellen and Jools and I were laughing like hyenas. I had a coughing fit and had to rush to the loos to try and recover. I’d just calm myself down and then poke my head round the door to see Sven dancing around and it started me off again.
Then Mark wanted to slow dance. I knew because he grabbed me and pulled me up against him. He was all lumpy, if you know what I mean, and had his mouth against my neck. It was even more difficult dancing with him than it was holding hands. I had to sort of bend my knees and sag a bit in order to “fit in”. At one stage I found myself looking straight at Robbie. He looked so cool. Oh bloody sacré bleu. Even though I hate him and he is a pompous pratboy, I think I may love him.
Then the band stopped playing for a break but Mark yelled, “Play more.” Some of his mates started joining in, then they sort of rushed the stage and Mark grabbed the microphone from Robbie. He was “singing” – I think it may have been “Jumpin’ Jack Flash”. Robbie put his hand on his shoulder and then a massive fight broke out. All Mark’s thick friends got stuck into the band and then the band’s mates got stuck into them. All us girls were screaming.
Sven lifted two boys up at once and tossed them outside into the street and that’s when Ellen, Jas, Jools and I decided to do a runner.
So, a gorgeous night. I am tucked up in bed, my “boyfriend” is a hooligan, before him I had another “boyfriend” called whelk boy. The boy I like hates me and prefers a wet weed with sticky-out ears... ps My so-called ‘pet’ spat at me when I walked in all upset. pps I have found my sister’s secret used nappy at the bottom of my bed.
Sunday December 13th
5:00 p.m.
No sign of Mark, thank goodness. I stayed in reading all day. Mum and Dad are having a night out – they suddenly want to do things together, it’s so unnatural! – so I have to babysit Libby. I don’t mind as I never want to go out again.
6:00 p.m.
Libby cheered me up by pretending to be Angus. She curled up in his basket and hid behind the curtains, growling. I had to stop her when she started eating his dinner.
6:15 p.m.
Jas on the phone. “I’ll never get a boyfriend. I may become a vet.”
6:20 p.m.
Jas phoned again. “Do you think I am really ugly?”
6:30 p.m.
Rosie phoned. “I managed to get Sven home before the police arrived. He has given me a bit of holly.”
I said, “Why?” and she said, “I don’t know, maybe it’s a Danish tradition.”
7:15 p.m.
Jools phoned. “Someone said they noticed that Lindsay wears an engagement ring when she’s at school.”
8:00 p.m.
Perfect. The doorbell rang but I made Libby be really quiet and pretend we weren’t in. No note or anything.
Fed up, depressed, hungry.
9:00 p.m.
Fed up, depressed, feel sick.
Had:
2 Mars bars,
toast,
milky coffee,
Ribena,
Coke,
toast,
cornflakes and
Pop-Tarts.
10:00 p.m.
Going to bed. Hope I never wake up.
Monday December 14th
8:30 a.m.
Nearly bumped into Mark on the way to school. Got round the corner just in time, thank goodness.
9:45 a.m.
Slim was livid about The Stiff Dylans gig; she was trembling like a loon.
“I sincerely hope none of my girls were in any way associated with the hooligans who behaved like animals at the dance...”
Rosie looked up at me and put her teeth in front of her bottom lip like a hamster. I don’t know why but it really made me laugh so much I thought I would choke. I had to pretend to have a coughing fit and get my hankie out.
Jas wasn’t in school. I wonder where she is. Maybe the “painters are in”, if you know what I mean. Rosie was full of Sven this and Sven that. I said, “Is he your boyfriend, then?” and she went a bit red and said, “Look, I don’t think we’re going out or anything. He’s only given me a bit of holly.” But as I said, that could mean anything in Denmark.
Oh bloody hell, Jackie and Alison, the Bummer twins, are back with a vengeance. They sent a note round saying they want us all to meet by the canteen on Thursday lunch for, as they call it, “the latest”.
4:30 p.m.
Note from Mark when I got in from school: Georgia, I looked for you after the other night. Meet me at 10 at the phone box tonight. Mark
9:50 p.m.
If I don’t go I’ll only see him in the street anyway...
I shouted to M and D (spending time together AGAIN), “I’m just taking Angus out for a walk.”
Dad yelled, “Don’t let him near that poodle.”
I had to drag Angus away from Next Door’s, he wants to eat that poodle. He has about four cans of petfood a day as it is. If he gets any bigger Mum says she is going to give him to a zoo, as if they would want him.
10:00 p.m.
Mark smoking by the phone box. He didn’t see me coming – hardly surprising as Angus had dragged me behind a hedge, chasing a cat. In the end I tied him to the gatepost. From behind the hedge I could see Mark, and you know when you have one of those moments when you know what you have to do? No, well neither do I... but I did think, I must come clean with Mark, it is not fair on him, I’m going to say, “Look, Mark, I like you and you mustn’t think it’s you, it’s me really, I just think I could never make you happy, we’re so different. I think it is best that we stop right here and now before anyone gets hurt.”
So I went up to him. He was half in the shadows and he threw his cigarette down when he saw me. I opened my mouth to speak and he just kissed me right on the open mouth. What if I had been sucking a Polo mint? I could have choked to death!! Also, he put his tongue in my mouth, which was a bit of a surprise... but then he did it again!!! He put his hand on my breast! What was I supposed to do? I hadn’t gone to breast classes. My arms were sort of hanging by my sides like an orang-utan when I remembered what whelk boy had said about putting your hands on someone’s waist, so I did that. He had one hand on my breast and one on my bottom. But just when I was thinking, What next? in the hand department, he stopped kissing me.
Was this a good moment to say he was dumped?
He said, “Look, Georgia, this is not personal or anything, but er... I think you are too young for me. I’m going back out with Ella because she lets me do things to her. Sorry, see you later.”
Midnight
See you later? Mark has had the cheek to dump me just as I was about to dump him! I’m never getting up again. Ella lets him do things to her... what things? Two hands on her breasts?
Wednesday December 16th
1:30 p.m.
Jas still not back. I’ll visit her after school.
4:15 p.m.
No reply at Jas’s house.
6:30 p.m.
Phoned Jas. Her mum said she couldn’t get to the phone as she is not very well. I said, “Is it the flu?” and her mum said, “Well, I don’t know, but she’s not eating.”
Not eating. Jas. Jas not eating. Things are bad. I said, “What, not even Pop-Tarts?” and her mum said, “No.”
Things are much worse than I thought.
Thursday December 17th
10:00 a.m.
Still no Jas. This is getting ridiculous.
1:30 p.m.
Jackie and Alison’s “latest thing” turns out to be so bonkers it is not even in the bonkers universe. We all had to go out into the freezing cold at the back of the tennis courts... I was surprised that Jackie knew where they were. I don’t think she’s ever been near the sports area before. Then Jackie told us what it was all about. “OK, this is what you do. You crouch down like this, then you start panting really hard and then you stand up and start running forward.”
I said, “Why?” and she looked at me and lit a fag. Tarty or what? She had a huge spot on her chin, it looked like a second nose. I’m not surprised her skin is so bad, it’s probably been covered in make-up since she was five.
She blew the smoke in my face and said, “When you run forward it makes you faint.”
Even Rosie, who usually doesn’t say much to Jackie, had to repeat this, “You faint?”
Jackie drew on her fag like she was dealing with the very, very stupid. She didn’t say anything, so eventually Rosie said, “Then what?”
Jackie totally lost it, then. “Look, four-eyes, think about how useful it can be to just faint when you want to... in assembly – faint, get taken out. In physics, when you haven’t done your homework – faint, get taken out... games... anything.”
Rosie is nothing if not stupid, so she kept going on. “Don’t you think someone might notice if we crouched down in assembly or physics and started panting and then ran forward?”
Jackie walked over to Rosie, and she is quite a big girl. Her breasts are sturdy-looking and she’s got big arms.
11:00 p.m.
I still feel a bit odd. I’m not going to be doing anything that Jackie and Alison say ever again. That is it. This stupid fainting thing is it. That is it. I did the panting and then stood up and started running and I did feel very faint, but not as faint as when I ran into Mr Attwood coming out of his hut. I may have broken my shin. Sadly Elvis was OK.
Friday December 18th
7:30 p.m.
Jas off all week. I’m worried about her now, she won’t even speak to me on the phone. Even when I pretended I was Santa Claus.
Friday December 25th
10:00 a.m.
Happy St Nicholas’s Day, one and all!!!
My fun-filled day started at five fifteen a.m. when Libby came in to give me my present, something made out of Playdough that had horrible, suspicious-looking brown bits in it. She said, “Tosser’s baby... ahhh,” and tucked it up into bed with me.
As we are “a bit strapped for cash” as Vati puts it (due to his inability to hold down a job in my opinion, but I didn’t say in case I spoiled Christmas even more) we could not have expensive presents. Mum and Dad got me CDs and make-up and leggings and trainers and undies and perfume, and I made Dad a lovely moustache holder which I think he will treasure.
I made Mum some homemade cosmetics out of egg yolks and stuff. She tried on the face pack and it gave her a bit of a rash, but on the whole livened up her complexion.
I made Libby a fairy costume, which was a big mistake as she spent the rest of the day changing us into things by whacking us with her wand. I had to be a “nice porky piggy” for about an hour. I never want to see a sausage again.
Jas phoned, but still isn’t venturing out – so no escaping “merry” Christmas with the family.
Angus looked nice in his tinsel crown until it annoyed him and he ate it. When we had our lunch Mum made him a special mouse-shaped lunch in his bowl out of Katto-meat. He ate its head and then sat in it. Heaven knows what goes on in his cat brain.
I think I may become a New Age person next year and celebrate the winter solstice by leaving my family and going to Stonehenge to dance with Druids. It couldn’t be more boring than watching my dad trying to make his new electric toothbrush work. However, there was a bright moment when he got it tangled up in his moustache.
Saturday December 26th
Noon
Quel dommage!! M and D have selfishly asked me to babysit Libby whilst they have “a last night out together”. Dad leaves for Whangamata on the 29th... sob, sob... and so as a brilliant treat he is taking Mum... to the pub!! With Uncle Eddie!!
If I was Mum I would have faked an accident, or if necessary had a real accident. A broken ankle would be a small price to pay to avoid Uncle Eddie’s version of “Agadoo”.
11:30 p.m.
Mum and Dad came crashing in, giggling. They were drunk. I was in bed TRYING to sleep but they have no consideration. I could hear them dancing around to “The Birdy Song”. They are sad.
Then they crept upstairs saying “Ssshhhh” really loudly. Mum gave a bit of a gasp when she came into my room because Libby was in bed with me but she had gone to sleep upside down so her feet were on the pillow next to me. Mum put her in her own bed, but then horror of horrors DAD RUFFLED MY HAIR. I pretended even harder to be asleep.
Sunday December 27th
11:00 a.m.
M and D still in bed. I will take their lovely young daughter Liberty in to them to chat.
2:00 p.m.
Going out. Dad’s given me a fiver to look after Libby.
Tuesday December 29th
8:00 p.m.
Vati left today. I must say even I had a bit of a cry. He went off in Uncle Eddie’s sidecar. We all waved him off. He says that he’ll ring when he gets to Whangamata. It takes two days to fly there – imagine that. I suppose it is the other side of the world. Mum is all glum and snivelling, so I bought her some Milk Tray. That made her cry more, so I don’t think I’ll do it again. Libby got her Angus’s bowl to cry into.
