Читать книгу ‘Luuurve is a many trousered thing…’ - Louise Rennison - Страница 61

Ahaha, Mum has got some hair dye. Warm chocolate. That would be nice and groovy. I could just put a couple of streaks in the front, like highlights, or is it lowlights? Hi, lo – it’s lights anyway, which is all that counts.

Got the dye and went into the front room. Oh, how I wish I hadn’t. Mum and Dad were all over each other on the sofa watching some old film with crying in it and blokes in tights and an Uncle Eddie bloke in a frock. Mum said, “Come and watch Robin Hood. It’s good.”

I said, “Mum, I’m just going to use your hair dye for a bit.”

“No.”

“Er, Mum, I think you are being a bit negative.”

“No.”

“But I—”

“No.”

“Look at the colour of my hair! It’s crap. I might as well be the Invisible Mouse.”

“No.”

“But I…”

Then Vati joined in. “Georgia, no, no, no, and thrice no. And also no.”

“Vati, I am not asking you, actually, I am asking my dear dear mum about her hair dye.”

“It’s not her hair dye, it’s mine.”

What??? What fresh hell? HIS hair dye? My vati, not content with growing small badgers on his chin and wearing leather trousers and having a clown car, was now trying to be Lady Cliff Richard. Or Lady Paul McCartney.

“Please say you are not serious.”

Vati said, “I am very serious. I am a man in his prime, as your mother knows.” And he did that disgusting thing of grabbing one of her nungas, squeezing it, and going, “Honk honk!!!”

Mum didn’t even hit him, she just went all girlie and said, “Stop it, you big boy.”

Vati was still in Madland, however, and said, “Yes, I thought I’d get down with the youth, you know, dye my hair, get the old leathers on and maybe check out a few clubs. Which one would you recommend?”

I nearly fainted. Imagine bumping into my dad and his sad mates down at the Buddha Lounge!!! Any chance I had of having a Sex God or a Luuurve God or even Spotty Norman would be well and truly up the pictures without a paddle. My dad’s impression of Mick Jagger dancing could reduce people to tears – and not of admiration.