Читать книгу ‘… and that’s when it fell off in my hand.’ - Louise Rennison - Страница 44

Call-me-Arnold was alarmingly glad to see me. He kept calling me his child. Which I am clearly not. My vati is an embarrassment in the extreme, but he is not an albino. Call-me-Arnold is so blondy that his head is practically transparent

I really gave up the will to carry on when Call-me-Arnold got his guitar out to sing some incredibly crap song about the seasons. Why can’t we just sing something depressing like we do at school and get on with it? I even had to shake hands with people. But I must remember this is God’s house and also that I am asking for a cosmic favour.

At the end, after most people had filed out, I noticed that some people were going to a side chapel and lighting a candle and then praying.

That must be the cosmic request shop. Fab! I would go light a candle and plead for mine and Robbie’s love.

I went up and got my candle and lit it, ready for action, but an elderly lady was kneeling right in front of the display thing. I could hear her mumbling. She had a headscarf on. On and on she went, mumble mumble. Bit greedy, really. She must have had a whole list of stuff to ask for.

Ho hum, pig’s bum.

I knelt down behind her because I was feeling a bit exhausted. I had, after all, been up since the crack of dawn. (Well, eight fifteen.)

I was holding my candle and thinking and thinking about the Sex God and our love that knew no bounds and stretched across the Pacific Ocean. Or was it the Australian Bite? Anyway, our love was stretching across some big watery thing.

I think I might actually have nodded off for a little zizz, because I came round to see a small inferno ablaze in front of me. Oh hell’s teeth, I had accidentally set fire to an elderly pensioner! The end of her headscarf was blazing merrily and she hadn’t even noticed.

I started beating the flames out with my handbag. I was trying to help, but she started hitting me back with her handbag. Before I knew it, I was in a handbag fight.