Louise Rennison

‘… and that’s when it fell off in my hand.’


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be selfish, there’s more than enough of me to go round.”

      I gave him my glacial look but he just winked at me. I couldn’t smile even if I wanted to because I had got so much lurker eradicator (cover-up) on that I couldn’t move my face.

      Rosie said, “Are you coming to Sven’s teenage werewolf party on Saturday? There will be snacks.”

      Rollo said, “It’s not fish fingers, is it?”

      Rosie looked pityingly at him. “Rollo, keep up, this is a teenage werewolf party.”

      Dave the Laugh said, “Babies’ tiny heads then, is it?”

      Rosie said, “Now you are ignoring the sophisticosity of the occasion. It is of course sausages with lashings of tomato ketchup.”

      Dave said, “Of course it is. See you later, chicklets. And Georgia, it is useless trying to ignore me – it just gives me the Mega Horn.”

      And he and the lads went off whistling the theme from The Italian Job.

       4:45 p.m.

      How annoying is that?

      I could kill him.

      He completely ignored my glaciosity.

      Rosie and Jas were looking at me in a looking-at-me sort of way. Which I hate. Tom walked along with us. Jas was wittering on to him and holding his hand.

      “I’ve found this stuff in the library about different kinds of fungi you can eat. You know, for our wilderness thing. Well, if we got lost away from the others in the group we could eat it and not starve.”

      I said, “Forgive me if I’m right, but are you talking about mushrooms?”

      Jas got all huffy. “Well. All YOU are interested in is Dave the Laugh.”

      I tried to look as bewildered as a bee who finds itself in an egg-cup hat.

      “I am not at all interested in Dave the Stupid Laugh – it’s just that I am even less interested in grey shapeless things that lurk about the woods.”

      They were all looking at me still.

      I tried again. “Oh come on, get real… Dave the Laugh, I – me – I mean…”

      Tom said, “So you do like him then?”

      Jas said meaningfully, “Yes, well, SOME people know SOMETHING about SOMETHING.”

      Oh good point, well made. Not.

      I wanted to kill her and make her eat her fringe. And her knickers.

      Rosie, who had been practising being blind and using me as her guide dog, said, “I’ve got an uncle in Yorkshire who eats cow udder as a treat.”

      That can’t be true.

      Can it?

       5:00 p.m.

      Walking home all alone.

      I let myself in when I got to our house.

      I opened the door and yelled out, “Hello Georgia darling, take your coat off and come and warm yourself by this blazing fire! I’ve made a nourishing stew for you, and when your father comes home from being really masculine and rich we can talk about the four hundred pounds a week you need for a decent pad in London.” As if.

       6:00 p.m.

      Mum is out tossing herself around a room full of red-faced loons in leotards. Again. Who knows where Dad is. Out in his clown car causing havoc.

      Brrr, it is so nippy noodles and dark.

      Got into bed it was so chilly bananas.

      Oh I am so cold and bored.

       7:00 p.m.

      Phone rang. It was Ellen.

      “I heard you saw Dave on the way home and he’s definitely coming on Saturday because he said he was and that means he is. Do you think?”

      I said, “Put it this way, there will be snacks and Sven possibly in a Viking outfit, of course Dave the Laugh will be there.”

      And then Ellen started doing this thing. I thought she was having a fit at first. She was snorting and going “Hnnurknurkhhhhnuuuuuurkkk.” “Ellen, what are you doing?” “I’m practising my infectious laugh.” Good grief.

       Bedroom

      I am so depressed and bored I may even have to do some homework.

       In Mutti’s bedroom 7:15 p.m.

      I wonder if Mutti has got anything new I could wear to the party.

      Ho hum.

      I have squirted my lurker with her Opium. I think it might be retreating to where it came from. Although with my luck it will probably re-emerge on the end of my nose, giving me that two-nosed look that is so popular amongst the very very ugly.

       7:30 p.m.

      I haven’t even got the heart to write to the Sex God, otherwise known as Marsupial Man. He’ll probably be lying in a river somewhere anyway.

       7:40 p.m.

      My new address is:

      Georgia Nicolson

      Crap House

      Crapton-on-sea

      Crapshire

      Crapland

       7:45 p.m.

      What is this book that Mutti has hidden in her knicker drawer?

       How to Make Anyone Fall in Love with You.

       8:00 p.m.

      This is amazing.

       8:30 p.m.

      Phoned Rosie.

      “Rosie.”

       “Quoi?”

      “Do you know how to make anyone fall in love with you?”

      “Well, in Sven’s case I reel him in with snacks and snogging.”

      I’ve seen the two of them snogging and eating snacks at the same time, so I didn’t really want to talk about it much.

      I went on, “My mutti’s got a secret book and it tells you how to make anyone fall in love with you, even normal boys, boys who are not Svens.”

       Friday March 11th

      Odds bodkin, what is the matter with grown-ups? They are all mad as hens (madder). Usually when you do plays you just read them out in order and so on. Not at this hellhole. Miss Wilson decided we had to “get into” our parts by improvising. How crap is that? Very, very very and thrice very crap.

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