Read Then He Ate My Boy Entrancers: More Mad, Marvy Confessions of Georgia Nicolson Page 15


  It was like a mouth dance. And I was Missvair-goodatmouthdancing!!! And then it happened…No. 6!

  He put just the tip of his tongue in my mouth; it was really sweet. I felt so full of luuurve for him that I put my tongue in his mouth a little bit. And our tongues touched!!! They were snogging as well!!! When you describe it it doesn’t sound like it would be very nice, but it is. Perhaps that is why Angus and Gordy put the tips of their tongues out, because they know how sexy tongue-touching can be.

  No, on second thoughts, I know that they put their tongues out because they are idiot cats.

  I was liking the kissing so much that I didn’t even think about breathing. I had acquired David Blaineness. I could very possibly not breathe for weeks if the Luuurve God was kissing me. But then he stopped. Boooooo, stop stopping!!! He said, “Come, Georgia, I must take you home. Your father will like it.”

  Bollocks to my vati. I wanted more snogging!!

  I said, “What time is it? Er, I mean Che ora per favore.”

  Masimo gave me a big kiss on my cheek.

  “Grazie mille for speaking my language. Dieci ora.”

  I said, “Ah. Good. Er, buono. Yes marveloso all round.”

  He said, “You don’t know what that is in time, do you?”

  “No.”

  “It is ten o’clock.”

  Phwoar, we had been snogging for almost two hours. Yesss!!! I bet we had even outsnogged Rosie and Sven.

  I said, “Vati said I didn’t really have to be in especially at any time tonight. In fact, he said if I wanted to stay out all night that was fine by him.”

  Masimo put his arm round me. It felt fabby to be held by his lovely armio.

  “Georgia, I don’t think that you are a fibber but maybe…just maybe you are insane.”

  Then he laughed.

  “Come on, bad girl. I take you home, your papa is pleased, he thinks I am the good guy, then we go out lots more, no?”

  We walked home, stopping every few steps for more snogging. Unfortunately we didn’t bump into anyone that I knew. Drat!!! Mind you, every girl that we passed gawped at Masimo. Shut up, gawpers, he is mine all mine mineio. I think.

  I hadn’t mentioned the Wet Lindsay scenario. In fact, I hadn’t really asked him anything about girlfriends even though I am dying to know. He asked me about the guitar plucker though.

  He said, “And how do you feel about Robbie now? Do you still like him?”

  Hmm. This called for diplomosity with just a hint of caringosity. Under no circumstances did I want him to think I was a minx who just picked up boys and tossed them aside…oo-er.

  I said, “I like him as a friend now; he plays the guitar in streams.”

  Masimo looked at me and said, “I understand.”

  Which is a plus. And a surprise, actually, as I certainly don’t make any sense to myself.

  He kissed me at the gate, and he did that varying pressure thingy, and a quick kiss under my earlug…phwoar…and then he sort of shook his shoulders and sighed and said, “Okay, caro, now we are sensible and good. Sad for me.”

  He took my hand and led me to my door and rang the bell. Vati came and answered the door. Oh blimey, he was Il Ministrone again. He NEVER smokes cigars but he happens to be smoking one now. AGAIN. Also he has semi-proper trousers on, not his joggerbums, which make him look like Porkman.

  He said, “Well, good, fine. Well, did you have a pleasant evening?”

  I was about to say, “What in the name of arse has it got to do with you?”

  But Masimo shook his hand!! And he said, “Buonos noches, Mr. Nicolson, here is your lovely daughter home safe.”

  He turned to me and kissed my hand and said, “Thank you for a lovely evening. Arriverderci till the next time.”

  Vati went back indoors shouting out: “Arriverderci then.” He really does think we are in The Sopranos. He’ll start having his mates “rubbed out” soon.

  As I went through the door I looked after Mr. Gorgeous. He turned round and winked at me and blew me a kiss. And he said, “Subito.”

  In bed. The bed of the Luuurve Goddess.

  He said “Subito” to me.

  How fab is that?

  later

  Actually I don’t know how fab it is, as I don’t know what it means.

  ten minutes later

  Something to do with submarines? I’ll have to look it up in my Idiot’s Guide to Italian.

  fifteen minutes later

  It means “soon.”

  That’s a bit like “later,” isn’t it?

  Oh dear God.

  wednesday june 15th

  Walking along with Jas trying to get a word in edgeways with Mrs. Mad.

  Tom is back on a flight at 6:15 P.M. That is 6:15. Do you get it? Not 6:00 P.M. but 6:15 P.M. And do you know how many minutes that is? I do. I have also become a Time Lord.

  Jas was actually SKIPPING as we went along to Stalag 14. Dear Gott in Himmel, I have got a lamb as a mate.

  She was saying, “OOOoooohhh, I am soooooo excited.”

  “Yes, I know you are. Look, can I just tell you about Masimo?”

  “Do you think he will go home first and drop his bag off or come straight round to mine? I wonder what kind of pressies he has brought me from Kiwi-a-gogo land.”

  Hopeless trying to talk to her.

  break

  Ace gang meeting.

  They all—apart from Jas, who has gone off to the woods to “think”…I laughed at first when she said that, but then I realized she was serious—anyway, what was I saying before, oh, yes the whole ace gang wanted to know about my date.

  Rosie said, “So dish the goss. What are our Pizza-a-gogo friends like in the snogging department?”

  “Absobloodylutely fabby fab and marv.”

  Mabs said, “Really?”

  “Yep, he did nip libbling, neck nuzzling, tongues, etc.”

  Ellen said, “Did he, you know, I mean did he…”

  I said, “Yep.”

  Which seemed to satisfy her.

  As the bell went Rosie said, “So when are you seeing him again? I mean is he the official boyfriend now?”

  Hmmmmm. Good point, well made.

  last period

  The Foxwood lads over again for MacUseless. Dave smiled at me when he ambled in. Ellen immediatedly dashed off to the loos to apply more lippy.

  I want to tell him about Masimo, but before I could go and chat to him, Miss Wilson came in to give us her official loon-on-loon tablets address.

  Ellen came in all tarted up and red and sat down near Dave.

  Miss Wilson said, “Now then, let us get on with the production in the professional manner that I know you are all capable of.”

  3:30 p.m.

  The witches were making so much racket doing their improvised dance round the fire bit that Hawkeye was attracted into rehearsals. She shouted at them from the door.

  “Stop that idiotic prancing around immediately.”

  Rosie said, “It’s our improvised witches’ dance, Miss Heaton.”

  “I don’t care what it is, I can hear it in the science lab.”

  I said to Miss Wilson after she had stormed off, “I don’t think Miss Heaton quite appreciates the beauty of the Swan of Avon, Miss Wilson.”

  Rosie said, “You should tell her that you used to go out with him in the Olden days.”

  Miss Wilson started getting all flustered.

  “Now, don’t be silly, Rosie, of course I did not go out with William Shakespeare…”

  Dave joined in.

  “Why didn’t he want to go out with you? Was he too busy or something? The Devil makes work for idle PANTS?”

  Then it was quite literally all pants from then on.

  Miss Wilson finally called it a day when I said, “MacDuff was from his mother’s PANTS untimely ripped.”

  As we got our stuff from the cloakroom Mabs said, “I saw Rachel in town and she is really really upset about her and Dave breaking up.”


  Ellen has been mooning around him in rehearsal. He’s been quite nice to her, actually. I wonder if I would mind if he went out with her. I should as a great mate be really pleased if he did go out with her, but…anyway.

  Ellen and Dave were by the gates as we ambled out to go home. I am in such a good mood. Maybe Dave and she should go out again.

  As I watched them Dave gave her a little kiss on her cheek and she went bright red. You could tell even from about two hundred yards away, and then Ellen tripped off home.

  Dave looked after her and then turned round and leaned on the gate. He was chatting to girls as they filed past him. He is a big flirt.

  It was just Jas and me walking home because Rosie was off to see Sven for a quick four-hour snog in the woods and Mabs and Jools were going shopping.

  Dave came with us as we walked along. I said to him, “Pantsmaster, can I tell you about Masimo?”

  Dave looked at me.

  “Am I going to be able to stop you?”

  As we were walking along Jas was saying, “Stop walking so slowly, you lot. Oh, I can’t stand this.”

  And she started running. She yelled at us, “I’ve only got two hours to do my makeup for Tom, coz he likes me just natural.”

  What is she talking about? As we watched her bottom disappear into the dusk, Dave said, “It’s nice, really, isn’t it, to be that simple?”

  “What? You would like to be as stupid as Jas?”

  “No, I mean Jas and Tom. They just like each other and that is it, no sign of the Cosmic Horn or red bottomosity.”

  I could feel things getting a bit philosophical and I wanted to talk about snogging.

  “Dave, I was going to ask you about Mas—”

  Dave said, “What if you were really meant to be with someone? But you kept messing about and having the Horn and so on and you lost them.”

  Oh brilliant, Dave the Laugh was having one of his unlaugh moments.

  Bugger, he had gone all girly. I was going to have to talk about his stuff before I was allowed to get on to the interesting stuff about me and the Italian Stallion.

  I said really quickly, “Look, I’m sure that if you went back to Rachel she would forgive you, she is remarkably stup…er…stupendously nice.”

  Dave looked at me and said, “You just don’t get it, do you?”

  “Oh, you mean Ellen, she would have you back tomorrow. She has no pridenosity.”

  He said, “You great kittykat loonie. I am talking about you and me.”

  “Don’t be daft.”

  Dave didn’t say anything, and then he said, “The bigger the PANTS, the harder they fall.”

  What?

  the big furry paw of fate

  in my room

  5:30 p.m.

  What was Dave the Laugh talking about? Besides the pants, I mean? Him and me? Losing the person meant for you. Has he snapped?

  6:15 p.m.

  Tom will just be landing now—Jas will have gone mad.

  6:16 p.m.

  Phone rang. It was Jas. I was right.

  “Gee, he’s here—he is in the same land as me.” Yeah, well, it’s debatable whether anyone normal is in the same land as Jas, but I let it go.

  Amazingly, she is prepared to talk about me.

  She said, “I’m all ready, so I’m going to talk to you and let you talk to me so that I don’t go mad, because I reckon it will take about half an hour through customs, he may have brought back some interesting specimens of nature and that might hold him up, and then it will be another hour from the airport, and then he might go to his house so that is about eight thirty P.M.”

  It is truly like talking to the speaking clock.

  After we had been through the minutes business again, Jas rather unexpectedly remembered that I was alive.

  “Georgia, you know Masimo?”

  “Er…YES!”

  “Well, I think you should be, you know, brave with him. I think you should just tell him how you feel and not do glaciosity or anything.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, I do, because then you would you know be like real and not a facsimile of a sham. I mean, even if you convinced him that you were normal, sooner or later you would forget and go back to being you.”

  “Er, Jas, this is not exactly…”

  “It’s like your nose, isn’t it?”

  “My nose?”

  “Yes, I mean, say you wore like a nose disguiser.”

  A nose diguiser?

  The strain has finally sent her over the edge.

  I said, “You mean from the ‘nose disguiser’ shop?”

  “Whatever. Well, sooner or later he would discover that you had a big nose.”

  “It’s a generous nose.”

  “You don’t have to tell any of us that, Georgie. Anyway, what I am saying is I think you should be you because actually you are quite nice. “

  She put the phone down then because she decided to change her skirt and wear jeans because Tom might want to go on a ramble when he arrived home.

  A ramble?

  Be myself?

  Not use glaciosity or visit the nose disguiser shop?

  I was feeling a bit unusual.

  7:00 p.m.

  I went downstairs and Mutti and Libbs were in the kitchen. They both gave me big smiles when I came in. Mum said, “Hello, darling, you are getting so leggy and pretty and grown-up. Isn’t your big sister gorgeous, Bibbity?”

  Libbs was in the middle of putting Gordy’s slippers on, but she looked up and said, “Hello, my Gingey, I lobe you. Kiss Gordy.”

  I kissed a cat!

  I really am losing my grip.

  Mum said I was gorgey.

  She looked at me as if she was going to cry.

  8:30 p.m.

  Blimey, life is full of confusiosity. Suddenly everyone luuurves me. Dave the Laugh rambling on about what if we were meant to be together, the guitar plucker says he misses me…I’ve kissed Gordy. What next? Hawkeye apologizing for confiscating my bison horns?

  The phone rang.

  Oh God! It can’t be Hawkeye about the horns, surely.

  I yelled downstairs.

  “Phone!!!”

  Mum must be having the usual communal bath with Libby and Angus and Gordy because there was a massive amount of giggling and splashing and shrieking going on. Hang on a minute, there was a man’s voice as well. Was Libby doing impressions?

  Mum yelled, “Georgia, can you get that?”

  I said, “I’m upstairs. Why can’t Vati get it?”

  Then Vati yelled up: “I’m all wet, you get it, it will be for you anyway.”

  Oh bloody hell.

  As I went to get the phone I had to pass the bathroom and I saw something that may mean counselling for many many years. It was my father with no strides on!! I mean it, he was standing up in the bath, and Mum was in there and Libby and they were all in the nuddy-pants!!! I almost choked.

  I had seen my own father in the nuddy-pants.

  With my mum in the nuddy-pants.

  Together.

  In the nudey dudeys.

  How horrific and unnatural was that?

  Still in a state of shock, I answered the phone.

  “Hello.”

  “Ciao, Georgia.”

  Masimo!!!

  “I have been thinking about you. I will look forward to seeing you, can you see me on Saturday?”

  I said, “Well, yes that would be. I mean yes, erm.”

  “If you can’t wait to see me, you could, how you say, come tomorrow night. There is a gang of us going to ‘Late and Live,’ you know, with Lindsay, like before. Can you come?”

  I don’t really remember what I said to him.

  9:00 p.m.

  Phoned Jas. Her mum said, “Hello, love, she’s gone out with Tom for a bit of a ramble.”

  Good grief.

  Phoned Rosie. “Rosie.”

  “Hubble bubble toil and pants.”

  “Rosie, this is serious. I just spoke t
o Masimo and you know you were asking me about the is-he-my-boyfriend scenario?”

  “Sí.”

  “Well, he asked me out on Saturday and then he said that if I wanted to see him before then he is going to “Late and Live” with the gang and Lindsay.”

  “Crikey.”

  9:30 p.m.

  Phoned all of the gang and now I am really really teetering on the brink of bewildermentosity. I may be driven to talk to my mum again.

  9:40 p.m.

  I can’t get the picture of her in the nuddy-pants out of my head.

  I have managed to superimpose a pair of all-encompassing overalls on the mental image of my vati vis-à-vis the bathroom scenario.

  But I can’t do it with Mum because bits of her basoomas keep reemerging from anything I camouflage her with. Very like in real life.

  10:30 p.m.

  As it happened she came up to the bedroom to say good night anyway.

  As she was at the door I said, “Mum, if I tell you something will you promise not to come over all mumish?”

  She said, “I’ll try. What’s going on?”

  I told her about the snogging; well, a bit, I skated over the details; well, in fact, I said “it was a really nice night and he kissed me good night.”

  I didn’t go into the tongues and so on. Then I told her about him phoning me and asking me out again and then the Lindsay bit.

  She sat down on the bed.

  “Hmm. That is tricky, isn’t it? I mean, she could be just another mate, he doesn’t know a lot of people yet, does he? Or maybe he doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea about him being a serious boyfriend.”

  Oh buggery bum.

  Then she thought a bit and said, “Do you know what I think? You have to decide what you want, ask for it and either get it or if he doesn’t want the same thing as you, you have to accept it. Life is for the brave.”

  After she had gone I lay in the dark and thought about what she had said.

  It was sort of what Jazzy Spazzy had said, even though she went on about the nose disguise shop. Even Dave the Laugh had said more or less the same thing.

  Yes, well, that was it. Ask for what I want and Devil take the hindmost. Good.

  midnight

  Yes, but what do I want?

  thursday june 16th

  stalag 14