I didn’t mention exactly why I had been kept behind. Well, actually I lied. I said that I had been given detention because I had done an improvised dance to “The hills are alive with the sound of pants.”
He said, “Top work.”
I felt a bit bad about lying, but on the other hand I didn’t want to say that I had been punished for snogging Masimo at the school gates.
four minutes later
Dave does make me laugh. I told him about the German snogging scale and he was nodding and going, “Oh ja, oh ja!!! Ich liebe das frontal Knutschen. Ich bin der Vati!”
Then he said, “You don’t fancy a spot of rummachen unter der halten, do you? Just for old times’ sake?”
I said, “Dave, how dare you speak to me like that.”
And he said, “You know you love it, you cheeky Fräulein.”
I just walked off quickly. I have my pridenosity.
He caught me up and said, “Stop trying to get off with me.”
I was amazed.
“Er, Dave, I think you will find that it was you who asked to rummachen.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Er, yes, it was, Dave.”
“No, you thrust yourself at me. Because you cannot resist me. It is sad.”
I stopped and looked at him.
“Dave, I can resist you, I have an Italian Luuurve God as a boyfriend.”
Dave said, “Oh, he is so clearly gay.”
“Dave, he is not gay.”
“He has a light blue leather coat.”
“That does not make him gay, it makes him Italian.”
Dave said, “I rest my case.”
I looked at him. And then he just bent down and looked at me. He had lovely lips and I sort of forgot where I was for a minute. I felt my lips puckering up and—then he pushed me away from him so that I nearly fell over.
He said, “Look, Georgia, stop it, try and control yourself, you are making a fool of yourself.”
I was speechless. What, what??? I didn’t know what to do. I was so amazed, so I shoved him quite hard. He looked at me. And then he shoved me quite hard back. And I fell over. I got up and went and shoved him again.
He said, “Look, leave me alone, your girlfriend will be really cross and get his matching leather handbag out.”
He is sooo annoying. I was just marching over to shove him again when Masimo whizzed up on his scooter.
Dave waved at him and as he went off he said, “Oooh, she doesn’t look very pleased.”
And in fact he was right, Masimo did look a bit cross. He smiled when I came over, though, and said, “Ciao…you are fighting with Dave?”
I said, “Erm…no, it was just that, er, he was showing me how he, er, scored a goal. And he was saying that he and his girlfriend, Emma, are coming to the Stiff Dylans gig.”
Masimo looked a bit confused but then he said, “Come, I will take you for a coffee.”
coffee bar
I feel like a prat and a fool. I have just dashed to the loos to put makeup on. Funny, I didn’t remember I hadn’t any on when I was with Dave. So I’ve done the lippy mascara thing, but there is not much I can do about my uniform. I hope I don’t see anyone I know.
one hour later
I tried to explain the German snogging scale thing to Masimo and he laughed but I don’t think he really gets it.
at home
Oh God, it was like twenty questions when I got home. Where have you been? Blah blah blah, school finishes at four p.m., it’s now eight p.m. That’s a four-hour gap. I made the mistake of saying to Dad, “Dad, I am not a child.” And he could then ramble on saying stuff like, “No, you can say that again, you are not a child, you are a spawn of the devil.” Etc., etc.
in my bedroom
10:30 p.m.
I tell you this, I’m not the only spawn of the devil in my family. Some complete fool (my dad) has bought my sister (also known as the littlest spawn of the devil) a “hilarious” fishing souvenir. It is a stuffed fish on a stand, and when you press a button it starts squiggling around doing a trout dance and singing “Maybe it’s BECOD I’m a Londoner.” Over and over again.
10:50 p.m.
Libby lobes it. It is her new besty. And new besties always sleep in my bed.
10:52 p.m.
Bibs is fast asleep but I’m not because I have fins sticking up my nostrils.
11 p.m.
Also, why has she still got her wellies on?
11:05 p.m.
Oh God, now Angus has come into my room and is trying to get onto the bed.
11:12 p.m.
I’m going to have to get out of bed and haul him in. He’s already crashed into the dressing table twice and is now in the wastepaper basket. I’ll be glad when his tail is back to normal.
11:20 p.m.
So, here we all are then. Tucked up together, Libby, Mr. Fish, Angus, a jar of potted fish (Libby’s snacks for Mr. Fish) and me, hanging on to half an inch of bed.
11:28 p.m.
But I’m happy. I have a Luurve God as a boyfriend!!! Yes, yes, and thrice times yes! Or sì, sì, and thrice-io sì, as I must learn to say.
11:30 p.m.
Wait till I tell the Luurve God about the Mr. Fish episode tomorrow when he picks me up at Stalag 14. I bet he will laugh like the proverbial drain-io.
11:35 p.m.
Perhaps I will save the Mr. Fish story because he didn’t exactly fall about when I told him about the German snogging scale.
11:40 p.m.
Dave the Laugh did, though. He thought it was a hoot and a half.
11:45 p.m.
How dare he insinuate I was a cheeky Fräulein? If anyone’s a cheeky Fräulein, he is. And he said that I was thrusting myself after him, but it was him who asked to rummachen. Anyway, shut up, brain. I’m not thinking about Dave the so-called Laugh.
midnight
I think Masimo is a bit jealous of Dave. Tee-hee. I’m a boy-entrancing vixen.
12:30 p.m.
Oh, dear God, I’ve accidentally set Mr. Fish off. How disgusting to have it writhing around in bed and singing. I will never sleep at this rate, it is like Piccadilly Cir…zzzzzzz.
friday september 16th
next day
I woke up laughing about Dave the Laugh asking if he could rummachen unter my halten.
Tee-hee.
Not that I want him to.
The puckering up thing was just a knee-jerk reaction. Like if you think of lemons, your mouth waters. So if someone looks like they are going to kiss you, you pucker up.
It is just biological.
Nothing to worry about.
4:10 p.m.
I cannot believe this!
Wet Lindsay came up to me as I was coming out of the loos. The ace gang had gone on ahead because I am meeting Masimo at the school gates. She said, “Go and get your hockey kit, you have volunteered for extra practice. Miss Stamp’s thrilled with you.”
I said, “I think you will find that actually I haven’t volunteered and that I am going off to meet my boyfriend. Do you know him? He is a Luuurve God.”
She stood in front of me.
“If you know what is good for you, you will get changed and get out there on that pitch.”
Merde. I would just do a runner but she will only report me and then I will have to go to the elephant house (Slim’s office) and be beaten to death by chins again.
I slumped off behind her.
She hasn’t even got a bottom.
We passed Miss Stamp in the corridor and she said, “I am really very impressed with you, Georgia, and it is very kind of you, Lindsay, to encourage the younger girls. I will be mentioning it to the Headmistress. It is a nice change to see you out of the detention room, Georgia. Keep it up.”
Buggeration.
She went off into her office.
Lindsay looked at me and gave me a very scary “smile.” How can Robbie snog her? It must be like snogging a combination octopus and praying mantis. Erlack.
/>
ten minutes later
Lindsay is making me run around the hockey pitch.
She said, “Let this just be a little lesson to you, Nicolson, about how bad life can be if you cross me. Run round the pitch four times and then you can go. I’ll be watching you.”
I said, “Masimo will be waiting for me.”
And she said, “Well, you had better run like the wind, hadn’t you?”
And she went off into the changing rooms. I could see her looking at me through the window.
twenty minutes later
Dear Gott in Himmel I am shattered. I haven’t got my special sports nunga-nunga holder and it is very tiring having them bouncing about. I finished the four laps and then I limped across to the changing rooms. I was so hot. I’d have a very quick shower, apply lippy, etc., and then dash out to my boyfriend.
thirty seconds later
The door was locked!
five minutes later
I can’t believe this. It’s Mr. Attwood’s night off and no one else has a key.
I bet it’s not his night off. I bet he is doing this on purpose. He is probably lurking around somewhere laughing.
Also, where is Wet Lindsay?
In the end I had to give up on getting my clothes. I will have to go home in my trackies with a massive red head. I wonder what Masimo is thinking. I wonder if he is still there? In a way I hope he isn’t because I know what he will be thinking if he sees my head. He’ll be thinking if I wanted a tomato for a girlfriend I would have asked for one.
As I came out of the school building I saw Wet Lindsay getting on the back of Masimo’s scooter and taking off!!
What a spectacular cow and a half she is.
She’s done this on purpose. She said she would get me and she has.
There is only one reasonable solution to this.
I will have to kill her and eat the evidence.
walking home redly
My knickers are sticking to my botty.
This is quite literally a PANTS situation.
two minutes later
As soon as I get in I am going to plunge my head into a bucket of cold water.
one minute later
Although with my luck I will get my head stuck in the bucket, at which point Masimo will turn up on his scooter and dump me.
home
When I walked into the kitchen, Dave the Laugh was balancing something on Libby’s nose. What? What fresh hell?
He looked up as I came in and said, “Blimey, you’re red.”
I tried to walk across the kitchen doing that hip hip flicky flick thing to distract attention from my head, but unfortunately my botty hurt so much from running I couldn’t keep it up.
I turned my back to him and got a drink of water. I said, “What are you doing here?”
He said, “I just brought round the kitty treats for Angus, but Libby has eaten most of them. Still, it’s the thought that counts.”
I turned back to him and he looked at me.
“You are quite sensationally red.”
I went off into the bathroom.
He was not wrong.
I looked like my head had turned into a lurking lurker.
five minutes later
I quickly plunged my head into icy water and towel dried my hair into what I hoped was a tousled yet somehow strangely attractive style. (That is what I hoped.) Quick bit of lippy and mascara. I didn’t want to be in the tarts’ wardrobe too long in case Dave the Laugh decided to go. I expect he has come round to apologize for his awful behavior vis-à-vis the rummachen incident.
back in the kitchen
two minutes later
I said to Dave, who was now having his hair plaited by Libby, “I suppose you have come to apologize for the rummachen fiasco.”
And he said, “Nein.”
Which made me laugh. He started to say, “Look, Georgia, I wanted to say that—”
At which point Mum came mumming in. Talking wubbish.
She was adjusting her basoomas and flicking her hair. Surely she doesn’t think that Dave fancies the “more mature” lady??
She said, “Dave, do you want to stay for tea? It’s cool if you want to hang out for a bit.”
“It’s cool if you want to hang out for a bit?” What is she talking like a complete fool for? Oh hang on, I think I know the answer to that one.
Dave said, “No, I’m afraid I’m away laughing on a fast camel. People to see, old people to rob, that sort of thing.” And he got up to go.
Libby clung to his neck as he got up, like a toddler limpet. Just hanging around his neck. He started walking off as if he hadn’t noticed he had a toddler necklace and Libby was laughing and laughing. She said, “I lobe my Daveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.”
Blimey, she’s joined the Dave the Laugh fan club as well. I walked him to the gate, trying to get Libby to let go.
As I was pulling her off, Masimo turned up on his scooter. He took his helmet off and sat on the seat. Looking at us. Maybe he was mesmerized by my head. It still felt vair hot. I tried to do a bit of flicky hair but it was mostly sticking to my head.
Dave said, “Ciao, Masimo.”
And Masimo said, “Ciao, mate.”
But I am not entirely sure he meant the “mate” bit.
Dave scarpered off quite quickly. Libby started burrowing through Mr. Next Door’s hedge. She likes to go and sit in the kennel with the Prat poodles and Gordy. But I can’t worry about that sort of thing now.
Masimo looked a bit upset and he said, “Why did you not for me wait?”
I babbled on. “Well, Wet Lindsay said I had to do extra hockey, so I had to run like a loon on loon tablets round and round, like a hamster with trackie bums on, and then I was locked out, and I saw you driving off with her on the back.”
Masimo said, “Aaaah. She said you had gone home and could I give her a lift.”
Unbelievable!!! What a prize tart she was.
Masimo was smiling a bit now. He really was gorgey porgey. He said, “And Dave, he came here, for, you to have another fight?”
I laughed. “No, he came to bring some kitty treats for Angus but Libby ate them.”
Masimo held out his arms. “Come here, Miss.”
I went over to him and he said, “You are very, erm, slippery.”
Actually he was right. If he squeezed me too hard I might shoot out of his hands like a wet bar of soap.
Then he kissed me. Which was fab and marvy and also No. 4, with a touch of virtual No. 5. And that is when Dad came “roaring” up in his loon-mobile.
I stopped kissing Masimo and leapt away from him like he had the Black Death. I said to the Luurve God, “Quickly, save yourself, my father is here. You must go now whilst you can, otherwise he may show you his leather trousers.”
But it was too late. Vati had got out of his “car” and was bearding toward us.
Oh how embarrassing. He’s going to say something, I know he is, even though I have told him he must never address me in front of people.
He said, “Evening all. It’s Masimo, isn’t it? Are you coming in?”
Oh nooooooo.
I said, “No, Masimo has to go, he is rehearsing.”
Masimo looked at me, and I opened my eyes really wide and said, “Aren’t you?”
He got it and said, “Ah, yes, ciao, Mr. Nicolson. Grazie, but I must have now to go. The Stiff Dylans are playing this weekend.”
Dad said, “Oh well, maybe I will pop by to hear some tunes, come along and show you a few of my moves on the dance floor.”
Has he snapped?
Masimo revved up his scooter, leaned over, and kissed me and said, “I will see you Saturday. I am, how you say, missing you already!”
I tried to walk off in a dignity at all times sort of way, but as we got to the house Dad yelled to Mum, “Georgia has been snogging an Italian stallion.”
How disgusting.
I feel dirty and besmirched.
And also Kackmist.
/> in bed
I wonder what Dave the Laugh was going to say to me? He does make me laugh, it was vair amusing him sitting there having his hair plaited by Libby.
Anyway, I will ask him what he was going to say when I see him at the gig.
one minute later
If I get the chance. I expect he will be with his girlfriend.
Which is good.
And fine.
two minutes later
I know that Emma is nice and everything, but she did have a ludicrous spazattack when Angus accidentally spat at her. Which is a bit weedy.
Anyway, I have vair many other important things to worry about. If Dave the Laugh wants to go out with a weed, that is his right.
But the burning question is this: What in the name of Richard the Lionheart’s codpiece am I going to wear for the gig?
five minutes later
All the girls will be looking at me because a) I am officially going out with a Luuurve God and b) I am a multitalented backing dancer and jolly good egg.
fisticuffs at dawn
saturday september 17th
8:30 a.m.
Preparations begin to become the girlfriend of a Luuurve god.
And possibly backing dancer.
So first on my list is cleanse and tone.
Done.
Face mask.
Done.
Cucumber eye patches.
Done.
Plucking.
Yessiree Bob.
Puckering exercises.
Done.
lunch
Two jam sandwiches for max energy and nutrition. Ellen was eating fruit gums in maths on Friday and Hawkeye asked her why and Ellen said, “It is my breakfast.”
And Hawkeye nearly had a complete ditherspaz and f.t. combined. She said, “Where is the nutrition in that?”
And Ellen said, “Well because, of the, you know, erm, fruit or something.”
3:00 p.m.
Charming conversation practice.
Done.
(Note to loon brain headquarters, do not mention hilarious pants jokes, frontal knutschen, glove animal or horns.)
6:00 p.m.
I think I look quite fab and groovy. That is what I think. Hair bouncing round, nungas more or less under control. And I’ve got new special lash enhancing mascara on so my lashes are about two feet long. Of course I will never ever be able to get it off again but in the meantime I have max boy entranceability.