I said, “Well, it’s my kind of hockey!!!”
She said I had taken stupidity to new heights, which is a bit rude.
Anyway, happy days. Today, as our special “treat,” we are playing shipwreck in the gym. While everyone else dashed about, the ace gang all climbed to the top of the wall bars. You’re supposed to leap about from a piece of equipment to a mat to a whatever, but unless Miss Stamp actually came up the bars and removed us, we were technically safe.
Anyway, she didn’t notice at first because Nauseating P. Green created an accidental diversion by destroying the mini-trampoline.
While we were hanging about, we had a discussion about the fact that we all now had boyfriends.
Jas said, “I feel like I’ve known Tom all my life. I feel we have always been together.”
I said, “So do I.”
Rosie said, “It’s just a complete laugh with Sven.”
I said, “Yes, but do you feel natural?”
Rosie said, “You’ll have to ask Sven that, love!”
And laughed like a drain.
I said to the others, “But what I mean is, besides the snogging…what do you actually do with boys when you’ve got them?”
Ellen said, “I, well…how do you really know if you’ve got them or something…you know…what if you haven’t got them or something…”
I said, “Thank you for that, Ellen. It’s cleared it up for me.”
changing rooms
Getting changed. My brain is still burbling on. Should I see my “boyfriend” every day? Or every two days?
Is the Luuurve God going to sing to me every night?
Am I supposed to phone him and sing to him when it’s my turn?
Could I do an improvised dance instead?
How do you know these things?
Why am I expected to do lessons as well as boy stuff?
4:00 p.m.
Bell went.
Thank the Lord. Freedom.
cloakroom
I was just getting my coat on when Jools came in. I thought she’d gone home. She was a bit breathless.
“Gee, I’ve just run all the way back. Masimo is at the gate on his scooter.”
Ay caramba!!
Look at my head!
eight minutes later
Emergency makeup routine and upside-downy blow-drying hair. I have made the gang surround me so that I can get to the gate without my beret. It may look a bit odd, us all walking like a big crab, but that is the penalty of luuurve.
And it does mean that I can emerge with hair bounceability in front of my boyfriend (oo-er).
Masimo was sitting on the seat of his scooter with his legs crossed. He had jeans and Chelsea boots on and a long cardigan.
He said to the gang, “Ciao.”
And they all said, “Ciao,” back.
Then we stood around a bit.
Erm.
Masimo came and stood in front of me. He put his hands on my face and kissed me on the mouth. Then he said, “Hello, gorgeous.”
And he snogged me properly. I had my eyes open because I felt a bit, erm, unrelaxed with five hundred girls passing by.
The gang were shuffling about behind me, I could sense it, and then Jas said loudly, “Well, I’m off…er, are you off, Rosie?”
And Rosie said, “Er, yes, I’m off, off as, erm, anything.”
And they were all saying even more stupid things than normal.
“Hasta la vista.”
And “Toodle pip.”
After they had all gone, Masimo was still just casually stroking my hair and kissing me softly on the lips.
I didn’t want to push Masimo away, but…it was all a bit weird. I just wanted to get away from Stalag 14. At last I said, “Erm, shall we go?”
And he smiled and gave me a last big smacking kiss.
Just then, I caught sight of an elephant in a coat out of the corner of my eye.
Oh dear God, Slim.
I looked away.
Masimo gave me another smackeroonie and then put a helmet on my head.
And we roared away.
Perhaps it had really been an elephant in a coat. Perhaps it was a special surprise for the production of Rom and Jul.
You never know.
Ish.
café noir
Actually, it was quite cool being the “girlfriend” when Masimo’s mates and so on came into the café.
It is mostly band talk, though.
In fact, Masimo had to drop me off home and go talk to the band round at Robbie’s about their London gig.
Which is this coming weekend.
Am I a pop widow already?
10:00 p.m.
Learning my part for the school fiasco. AGAIN. I thought Merc-lurk-io was supposed to be the “larf” factor. All I can say, once more, is that Billy Shakespeare had a very odd idea of fun.
Oh dear God.
This is wubbish jokes.
Mostly I describe the Queen of the Fairies for about a million years. Apparently, all she does is drive along in a tiny wagon over “men’s noses as they lie asleep.”
They wouldn’t be asleep for long if someone drove a wagon over their nose. I tell you that for a fact.
Because, as it happens, I have had a wagon driven over my nose. When I was asleep. Libby put Gordy in her Thomas the Tank Engine when he was a kitten and made him drive up the “big big hill” (my nose).
twenty minutes later
Oh, this is just wubbishnosity of the highest order. I can’t go on in tights and say this: “Her wagoner, a small gray-coated gnat.”
three minutes later
Oh, tee-hee-hee, I’ve got to a great bit. Jas’s big snogging scene with her “boyfriend.”
I’m going to phone Jazzy Spazzy.
Jas answered the phone.
“Jas.”
“What?”
“Why are you saying ‘what’ like that?”
“Like what?”
“Anyway, have you got to your brilliant bit in Rom and Jul when your boyfriend climbs into your bedchamber for the night?”
She put the phone down, which is a bit rude.
ten minutes later
OK, this is the summary of Rom and Jul.
It starts with some fighting between two families. When I say families, I mean boys stropping around and so on. Jul is not allowed to do what she wants by her vati because she is only a girl and he will not let her have any fun. (Typico.)
However, her family throws a party and Rom gate-crashes it with his mates.
I am in this bit and I go along with Rom to party and dancey aroundy like ye fool.
Which actually might be a larf.
I will note down some suggestions for Miss Wilson for my interpretation of my part (oo-er).
My dance note: Perhaps Scottish dancing here.
After the party there is a bit more fighting.
Note for Miss Wilson: Plenty of tomato ketchup here.
Then I have my big death scene and I die telling that hilarious world-renowned joke: “Ask for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave man.”
Do you get it? Do you see?
Die…grave…?
Oh, it’s a sidesplitter.
And thankfully, that is it for me. I can scamper off backstage.
To play around with the backstage lads (oo-er).
If the play gets that far that is.
Because I tell you this for free, if Dave the Laugh and his mates have anything to do with building the scenery, the balcony scene is bound to quite literally bring the house down.
five minutes later
Anyway, what happens next after I die? Not that I care because I won’t be watching.
Hmmm.
Rom and Jul spend the night together up to hanky-panky and possibly rudey-dudeys. We will never know because it’s all in some sort of verse about the moon and so on.
Then they get married secretly.
Note for Miss Wilson: Papier-mâché heads can be “
happening” and “now.” They have the “Bingo!” factor.
As a v. good plan, Jul goes to the vicar to ask for help and advice. (The vicar is not “Call me Arnold” but for all the use he is, he should be called “Call me Arnold.”)
Back onstage, Jul pretends to take poison and die, Rom finds her, thinks she’s dead so he commits suicide. She wakes up and stabs herself.
Note: Plenty of blood capsules and liver here.
The end.
It’s a lovely, cheery little tale.
For the sake of the audience, I must make my comedy fight scenes last as long as possible.
Maybe I could accidentally kill Jul’s comedy puppet dog.
Note here for Miss Wilson: Comedy dog gets it.
11:00 p.m.
I heard Mum come in from her workshop. Uh-oh.
Dad called out, “Hello, Connie.”
But she is not talking to him so…there was a bit of silence and then she said, “Bob, would you run me a bath with some rose oil in it and get me a cold glass of wine, please?”
What? Yes, in your dreams, Madame Zara.
ten minutes later
He’s doing it. How amazing.
Surely just doing something with a boiled egg and a colored scarf doesn’t make Dad turn into, erm…unDad.
slim’s snogging lecture
thursday september 29th
french
As they probably say in la belle France, qu’est-ce que c’est le point of France?
read-through
3:00 p.m.
Had our first proper read-through of Rom and Jul.
Our star-studded cast features:
Me as Merc-lurk-io
Miss Prissy Knickers (Jas) as Jul
Ellen as Tybalt (or something, what do you think…oh, am I the page as well or something?)
Rosie in a tour de force and also possibly a beard, as the Nurse.
The octopus in the ointment is of course waiting for Ms. No Forehead to come and be Rom.
Then Miss Wilson said, “I’m afraid Lindsay cannot be at the read-through today. She has to go for an interview for college.”
We all pretended to cry and shouted out, “Ah prithee, lackaday.”
“Have you seen my tights?”
“Gadzooks!”
And so on for a while.
As Nauseating P. Green was only “townspeople,” she read the Rom part.
She was so excited her glasses steamed up.
I said to Jas, “You lucky, lucky tart.”
But Jas shoved me away.
She always takes these things sooo seriously. And I think she really does believe that it is the story of her and Hunky.
Halfway through, it was complete chaos with Rosie shouting, “Am I on? Shall I wear my Nurse’s beard?”
And Jas was saying stuff like, “But what is my motivation here? Why would I suddenly go across to the balcony window? Perhaps I heard a night owl?”
Absolute wubbish stuff. Jas insists on getting owls in everything. I just wanted to get to the fighting bit. I said to Miss Wilson, “Have you got the swords yet?”
And she dithered about, saying ridiculous stuff like, “Perhaps for now you could use a pointed finger.”
Is she mad?
Yes is the answer you are searching (not very far) for.
I said to Miss Wilson, “May I just illustrate my point vis-à-vis the ultimate crapnosity of trying to have a sword fight with a pointed finger?”
I did the bit where we have the fisticuffs and Tybalt stabs me (Merc-lurk-io) to death.
I put my finger up and said, “Tybalt, you rat catcher! Will you walk?”
Which is my fave bit actually.
Then Ellen (as Tybaltio) says, “I am for you,” or in Ellen’s case, “Er, is it this bit or something, do I, is it for…”
I said, “Ellen, just say ‘I am for you’ and then fight me to the death.”
Bloody hopeless.
Ellen came shuffling over, pointing her finger at me. Oooh, scary. I jabbed my finger at her and she stuck her finger in my waist. Which I didn’t notice actually, until I said, “Come on, get on with it. Stab me to death with your index finger.”
And she said, “I, er, I just did.”
I looked at Miss Wilson and said, “Do you see? We need swords and plenty of them, and blood. And maybe a bit of old liver. Have you got blood bags?”
Rosie said, “I can make severed fingers out of sausages.”
At which point a strange woman came in. In really bright clothes.
Miss Wilson was all over her like a rash. Bobbing like a bobbing thing.
“Oh, girls, girls, this is Miriam. She has come to improvise with us this afternoon. She has trained with Lecoq.”
ten minutes later
We just about managed to get ourselves under control. I thought Rosie might have to go to the school nurse, she was laughing so much.
Nauseating P. Green was the only one who looked a bit puzzled. She was blinking and saying, “What is so funny?”
Rosie said, “I don’t think P. Green understands how vair amusant a grown-up saying she has trained with Lecoq is. I don’t think she gets it.”
I said, “She wouldn’t get it if it came in a big bag labeled ‘IT.’”
And I am not wrong.
twenty minutes later
If we thought Miss Wilson was odd, Miriam took the biscuit oddwise. She was mega-odd. And a half.
She was dressed mostly in colored scarves, with two or three round her head, and she wore big shoes and kept falling over things.
Rosie said, “Is Miriam breaking those shoes in for a clown?”
Sadly, Miriam WAS a clown.
We weren’t allowed to just say our boring old lines. We had to do mime and clown gestures.
We had to find our inner clown.
three minutes later
Still, it passes the time.
Thank God, the final bell.
As we slouched off to the cloakroom, I said to the gang, “I’m bloody exhausted, and I will tell you this for free, I am not wearing tights and a big red nose.”
Jools said, “She won’t really make us wear the noses, will she? I thought we were just wearing them to please Mad Miriam.”
Jas said, “Actually, I found it quite liberating doing the clowning. I found a different part of Juliet, sort of more playful. She is just a teenager after all. Like us.”
We all looked at her.
I said, “She is five hundred and fifty years old.”
Jas was ready to do storming off in the huffmobile when I said, “Actually, you might be right, Jas. If you and your boyfriend, Wet Lindsay, wear clown noses, that would put proper snogging out of the question. Voilà! Bob est l’oncle!!”
4:00 p.m.
Things are hotting up in the Miss Wilson and Rudi Kamyer department. They walked out of the school gates together tonight. Miss Wilson looked like she was showing him her inner clown. Bobbing her head around like a demented pigeon. Rudi took off his glasses and cleaned them with his scarf. That is how vair vair excited he was.
Luckily, it’s German tomorrow.
three minutes later
Crikey, Masimo is at the gates again! Back to the bloody loo for me for glamour work.
6:00 p.m.
They are awfully demonstrative, the Pizza-a-gogo types.
And also not inhibited.
When he saw me, the Luuurve God actually came through the school gates into the playground. And then he snogged me among the milling girls. Who were all squeaking and shrieking like wild geese.
It seems a bit sort of pervy snogging someone in the school playground.
I don’t know why.
I don’t associate Luuurve Gods with school.
Or anything to do with rudey-dudey or snoggy-poos.
In fact, when we had so-called Sex Education with someone called Mrs. Tampax (probably), I had my fingers in my ears and was humming.
It’s just not right….
&n
bsp; The ace gang sloped off and Masimo took me home on his scooter.
in my private boudoir of luuurve
7:00 p.m.
He has given me a little locket.
Crikey.
It’s a heart with a photo of him inside.
He’s on a beach in his jeans and he doesn’t have a top on.
I must never ever ever mention this to Dave the Laugh.
I can imagine what he will say.
Anyway, shut up. I am not imagining what he will say.
10:00 p.m.
The Luuurve God says he will miss me when he goes to Lunnern Town this weekend. But a little break doesn’t hurt anyone, I say.
two minutes later
I seem to be the only one who does say it, though. The rest of the gang are practically glued to their boyfriends. What happened to the one for all and one for one and all in all fandango?
four minutes later
I heard Mum call out to Dad, “Bob, would you put a hot-water bottle in bed for me? And a cup of hot chocolate would be lovely. Thank you.”
I don’t know what is going on with Mum and Dad, but it’s weird.
Mum keeps asking Dad to do things, and he keeps doing them.
two minutes later
Unfortunately, she hasn’t said, “Hand over your money and make your way to Europe.”
one minute later
I have pinned a photo of the wildcats on the shed door so that Angus can look at them.
He likes it a lot. He stares and stares and then does that silent miaowing thing.
Then he starts shaking.
I can see him through my bedroom window.
I thought it would be a relief for Bum-ty, but unfortunately, Angus divides his time equally between staring at his photo and budgie staring.
friday september 30th
Hurrah. Nearly freedom. Thank you, Baby Jesus, for leading us through another week of pain and tribulation (triple maths and David Copperpants).
Lurching out of assembly. Which was only bearable because Slim nearly fell up the stairs when she went onto the stage. She so clearly can’t see where her feet are.
Wet Lindsay came up to me after assembly and said, “Nicolson, the headmistress wants to see you in her office now.”
What had I done?
What?
I knocked on Slim’s door and she said, “Come.”
Oh God.
ten minutes later
One of the most embarrassing things in the history of embarrassmentosity has happened.
It was so horrific. I may have to go lie down in the loos.
Are These My Basoomas I See Before Me? Page 10