where he is going? He had trainers and joggerbums on.
10:30 p.m.
Heard Mutti and Vati arguing. Oh perfect, now they’ll split up and they’ll both want custody of me.
10:40 p.m.
If I go with Mum I will have access to make-up, clothes, and so on, and I can usually persuade her to let me stay out later. She laughs at my jokes and goes out a lot. On the other hand, there is Vati.
10:42 p.m.
Ah well, bye bye, Vati...
Tuesday 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