8:30 a.m.
Pant pant, rush rush. Jas waiting for me.
She said, “Why do you look like Elvis Presley?”
As we ran up the hill towards school, we could see Hawkeye standing like a ferret by the gates. Oh here we go again…the beret patrol!!!! I hadn’t got mine on. No time for the “sausage” or the “lunchpack”. Only one thing for it. I fished the beret out of my bag and pulled it right down over my ears. You could only just see my eyes.
When we ran past Hawkeye she shook herself like something nasty had made a nest in her knickers.
“Two minutes to assembly; don’t start the term with a detention.”
Oh very caring. “Hello, Georgia, welcome back,” would have been nice.
As we dashed to the cloakroom I said to Jas, “Imagine her having a boyfriend! Erlack, no no, I must pull my mind away from that otherwise I’ll start imagining her snogging or something. Urgh!!!! Urgh! I’ve done it now: I’ve let it in my brain!!! Hawkeye getting up to number seven on the snogging scale. Putting her tongue in someone’s mouth. Maybe Herr Kamyer in his lederhosen. Urghhhh. Erlack. Get out, get out!!!”
I ripped off my beret and coat and went into the main hall.
Rosie, Ellen, Jools and Mabs– otherwise known as the Ace Crew– were all there. I gave them our special Klingon salute. They looked at me like they had never seen me before. Had they forgotten all we had shared after so little time? I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Hawkeye. What fresh hell? She looked down her big beaky nose at me and hissed, “Take this, make yourself presentable and get back here as quickly as you can, you stupid girl.”
I looked down and saw that she had given me a comb. When I went into the loos I saw my hair had gone the shape of my pulled-down beret because of the superdooper hair gel.
Sacré bleu! I feel like un nincompoop.
9:00 a.m.
Took my usual place next to Rosie and Jas. Our revered headmistress “Slim” Simpson (so called because she weighs about a ton) lumbered on to the stage. I whispered to Rosie, “Crikey, she has got chins on her chins.”
Slim bored us half to death by telling us what fabulous treats were ahead of us this term. Exams (yippee!); the challenge of modern languages and physics with Herr Kamyer (superdooper!!!); a school trip to the escarpments of the Lake District (oh marvy!!!)…
As she said each thing Rosie and I were clapping our hands together in delight until Hawkeye gave us the evil eye. Good grief.
Break 11:00 a.m.
Jools, Ellen, Mabs, Rosie, Jas and I met behind the tennis courts for a confab. Elvis Attwood, the grumpiest caretaker in the universe, shouted at us as we passed his hut, “I’ve got my eye on you lot. Don’t come sneaking into my hut otherwise there will be trouble.”
He’s beyond bonkerdom. He came to a school dance and did some exhibition twisting on stage until his back went and he had to be taken to casualty. That’s when we started calling him Elvis.
I waved and shouted back, “Greetings, oh mad one.”
We were grumbling and moaning as we sat down. As usual in this fascist hell-hole we have been split up in class and not allowed to sit together. I have my “pal” Nauseating P. Green next to me. She wears those glasses that look like they have been made out of jam jars, which is very unfortunate. She’s got really bulgy eyes anyway. Rosie said, “I think there must be a touch of the goldfish in her family genes.”
As we ate our snacks you could see right up Jas’s skirt. I said, “Jas, do you always wear those huge knickers? A small dog could creep up a knicker leg and you wouldn’t know.”
“Well I like to be comfy.”
“They’re not very sexy, are they?”
“You said you thought little knickers were stupid. Remember Lindsay’s thongs?”
“Shut up, don’t upset me. You know how visual I am. Now not only have I got Hawkeye snogging Herr Kamyer in my brain, I’ve also got Wet Lindsay’s thongs.”
Ellen said, “Anything happening with you and Robbie?”
I explained about my glaciosity and maturiosity plan. They all nodded wisely. We are a very wise group. Full of wisdomosity. I am almost certainly wiser than God, who doesn’t seem able to grant the simplest of requests. Which is why I have turned to Lord Buddha.
Rosie spoilt the moment of wisdomosity by saying through a mouthful of cheesy snacks. “What in the name of pantyhose are you talking about?”
4:45 p.m.
At the end of my glorious day today Elvis made me pick up a sweet wrapper in the corridor. All because I did my VERY funny impression of him doing the twist and then his back going. If he doesn’t want people to make jokes at his expense he should stay indoors. He’s a barmy old fascist. I bet he goes round dropping sweet papers on purpose.
5:05 p.m.
Jas phoned, all breathless and excited.
“I’ve got two letters from Tom.”
I said, “He’s only gone to Birmingham.”
“I know, but…well…you know.”
No, I don’t know.
5:15 p.m.
Libby and Mum came home. Libby has had her first day at kindergarten which I think is a good thing as it will make her less mad.
5:16 p.m.
Wrong. Libby has made me something to wear at kindergarten. She was ramming it on my head. I said, “Steady on, Libby, be gentle with my head. What is it you have made?”
“It’s nice!!!”
“Yes. I know. But what is it?”
She looked at me like I was a halfwit and put her face nose to nose with mine. She said really slowly, “For…egg!!!”
“For my head?”
She hit me. “No, no, no, bad boy…foryour EGG!”
Mum came in.
“Look, Georgie, she’s made you an egg cosy.”
“Well why is she trying to put it on my head?”
“She must have got mixed up. Maybe she thinks the teacher said ‘head cosy’.” And Mum started laughing like a drain. Libby joined in while I just sat there.
7:00 p.m.
What is there to laugh at? I am on the rack of love. Life is a sham and a facsimile and a farce.
7:15 p.m.
But at least I have an egg cosy.
8:00 p.m.
I am soothing myself by pampering my mind and body. I am pampering my mind by reading (an article about mascara) and I am pampering my body by eating a LOT of chocolate.
9:00 p.m.
Now I feel worried, fat, but very well informed about mascara. Which is a plus.
Wednesday September 15th
Assembly
9:00