Are These My Basoomas I See Before Me?

by Louise Rennison

  8:00 p.m.

  Masimo phoned again.

  He sounds vair miz.

  He said, “I ’ave been with the band all day. It is sad. They are my, how do you say it, mates now. I will be not having them for my mates when they go to London.”

  I said, “Oh, Masimo. Look, why, well, why…don’t you, why don’t you go with them? For a bit? To London.”

  There was a silence.

  He said, “You want me to go?”

  “No, no, it’s just that you seem so unhappy, and…”

  “But you will not come with me.”

  “I think, I am too…I don’t think I have enough…”

  “Money? I can get the money.”

  “No, I don’t think I have enough…maturiosity.”

  “Mat…nosity? What is this?”

  Then I sort of had a brain wave-ish—well, a brain ripple, anyway.

  “It’s just I don’t want to leave my mates, either. I have special mates and I don’t want to leave them.”

  He said, “I understand, Georgia. I so like you, Cara.”

  Oh, bloody blimey and also poooooooo-ooooooo.

  Why can’t everything be simple???

  in the front room

  The Blunderboys are having a “gathering.” Just outside our front-room window.

  Mark Big Gob is clearly the love child of Mick Jagger and a cod. His gob is huge.

  I can’t hear what they are saying, thank God. It’s just odd words like “wicked” and “yeh, mon” and I did hear Oscar say, “She wan’ me baaaaaad.”

  As if.

  Also they were doing that really crap boy smoking. You know, holding the fag upside down and taking really big drags on it.

  Angus hopped up onto the windowsill and was looking at them.

  Doing his staring thing.

  When they noticed him, I could hear them going on.

  “Look at the stupid cat. He is rank.”

  “Hey, stupid cat, want to kiss my arse?”

  On and on.

  Angus was just looking and looking at them.

  ten minutes later

  He is still looking at them.

  But they are not saying anything.

  In fact, they are looking a bit shifty.

  two minutes later

  They have all shuffled off somewhere else.

  Yes!!!!!

  Supercat scores again!

  He has quite literally outstared them.

  in bed

  Dear Lord Sandra, please give me some advice.

  What shall I do about Masimo?

  three minutes later

  I have decided that I am going to remove Mr. Potato Head and if Lord Sandra falls over, that is a sign that I should tell Masimo that he should go to London.

  If Lord Sandra stays upright, then I should have a full-on relationship with the Luuurve God.

  five minutes later

  What does it mean if Lord Sandra just leans slightly to the left?

  rom and jul: the tragedy (you’re not kidding, mate)

  friday october 14th

  final run-through

  We’re giddy with excitement-ish.

  Jas was asking me about her puckering technique.

  She said, “Does this look like real snogging?”

  And made a little face like a fish.

  I said, “Jas, if that is how you snog Tom, I am not surprised he is hightailing it to Hamburger-a-gogo land.”

  She stropped off because she seems to forget that we are bestie mates of all time, weathering the storms of luuurve together. She seems to have forgotten that.

  That and her emergency supply of midget gems, which I am looking after for her.

  I have to give her one when she comes offstage in between scenes, so that she has the courage to face her audience.

  Good Lord.

  I wonder if Dave the Laugh will turn up tonight.

  I bet he feels horrible about Emma.

  Maybe he is consoling himself with his mysterious girlfriend.

  Not that it is any of my business.

  11:00 a.m.

  I cannot believe this place. Us artistes are being made to do ordinary lessons. How can that be right? We need to be limbering up. Stretching our vocal cords and our tights etc.

  maths

  Miss Stamp does not seem to understand that my answers are meant ironically.

  lunchtime

  Lolling around trying to conserve our strength.

  Wet Lindsay came sliming by. Hasn’t she died yet?

  She said, “What a bloody bunch of losers and liggers you are.”

  Charming.

  I said, “Actually, we are trying to relax before this evening’s gala performance.”

  She didn’t even bother to reply.

  Rosie said, “Better to have loafed and lost than never to have loafed at all.”

  Lindsay turned round then.

  She said, “What is that supposed to mean, Mees?”

  Blimey, was there going to be a fight?

  By the way, although people suggest the youth of today do not pay attention to boring stuff, I will just say this. The French for a fight between two girls is un crêpage de chignons (a fight between hairstyles).

  I said to Rosie, “Are you going to be having un crêpage de chignons as a warm-up for tonight’s fiasco? Don’t ruin your beard.”

  But then Wet Lindsay just turned away and said, “You’re not worth it.”

  And stormed off.

  But fortunately for us, she stumbled on the top step of the science block.

  I said, “If you fall down those stairs and break your legs, don’t come running to me!”

  Oh, we laughed. But quietly.

  Sort of quietly but hysterically at the same time.

  Jas said, “Emma said that she might turn up tonight.”

  Oh dear God.

  What if she flung herself onstage and grabbed my sword?

  7:30 p.m.

  Showtime!!!

  The roar of the greasepaint, the smell of the crowd.

  backstage

  Jas was pacing backward and forward. And even though she has no fringe on her wig, she is still managing to fiddle about with her forehead. It is vair annoying.

  She said, “Do you think everyone will know it’s a tragedy?”

  I said, “I guarantee tonight that after our moving interpretation of Rom and Jul, there will not be a dry seat in the house.”

  Especially as my grandvati and Libby are coming and they have trouble in the piddly-diddly department. But I didn’t say that bit to Jas.

  No sign of Dave the Laugh. He must really be having a bad time.

  I hope he is alright, even if I am eschewing him with a firm hand because of his new secret girlfriend that I don’t even care about.

  7:31 p.m.

  Dave the Laugh turned up.

  He looked a bit dark around the eyes, like he hadn’t slept much.

  But he greeted all his mates with the usual slapping and “You idiot” sort of carry on.

  He saw me and said, “Nice tights, kittykat…and enormous beard.”

  I didn’t mean to talk to him. I was going to give him my cold-shoulderosity work for being a cad and a bounder, but unfortunately, I couldn’t help smiling at him. Actually, even though he looked tired, he did look really lovely.

  7:41 p.m.

  After he had been joshing around with the others he came over to me and said, “Alright, kittykat?”

  And suddenly, I felt like crying. I wanted him to just get hold of me.

  I said, “Well, not really. It’s all been a bit…”

  He said, “I know, it really has been all a bit…but come on, gird your gusset and cheer up. It will be alright. The Hornmeister is here.”

  by the side of the stage

  Melanie has done her best as Rom, but she is struggling against enormous odds (oo-er).

  As soon as she came on, I could hear my grandad say, “Bloody hell, she’s a mature lass.�
��

  She did her best, but she is not really an actress as such.

  In fact, as Dave the Laugh said, “The only thing moving about her performance is her wig.”

  Every time Nauseating P. Green came on as the puppet dog, I could hear Libby howling with laughter. And unfortunately, I could see her howling with laughter. This was because she had three seats to herself on the front row. One for her, Pantalitzer doll, Scuba-diving Barbie and burnt-bottom Panda, one for Mr. Fish and one for Mr. Cheese. Mr. Cheese was not naked as he is at home, he had on his lovely mackintosh.

  Ramble ramble Rom and Jul.

  At last it was my big fight scene. I took a deep breath and adjusted my beard.

  Before I went on, Dave gave me the thumbs-up and said, “Give it your all tightswise! I’m right behind you, oo-er.”

  onstage

  My dying was a triumph, darling, a triumph! I even improvised recovering a bit, just when everyone thought I was a goner.

  I could see Dave the Laugh by the lighting console, rubbing his hands like he was a master chef or something. The lights dimmed to atmospheric red and through my half-closed eyes I could see the “blood corpuscles” dancing up to me like twits and waving their red scarves about.

  Then, as last year, once again the stage was plunged into complete darkness.

  I couldn’t see a bloody thing. I heard someone whisper (loudly), “Which way is off?” then there was a bit of a bang and someone in the dark said, “Bloody hell, what’s that?” and then Mr. Attwood’s voice saying very loudly, “You’ve just put your foot in my first-aid kit.”

  It was an absolute shambles.

  I stood up and started sort of shuffling along sideways in the dark when the lights suddenly came up again.

  I could see the audience quite clearly.

  Looking at me.

  I thought about doing some Irish dancing but it didn’t seem right somehow. I kept on shuffling because I couldn’t just lie down again. Then someone shouted out, and I am pretty sure it was my dad, “It’s a bloody miracle. He’s alive!!!” And the audience applauded, so me and the blood corpuscles had to bow.

  by the side of the stage again

  I looked at Dave the Laugh and he shrugged and said, “Technical hitch but the show must go on, kittykat.”

  He has no shame.

  Also he said it was an accident waiting to happen.

  I said, “What was?”

  And he said, “Putting me in charge of lights.”

  Miss Wilson went bobbing out onto the stage and said, “Erm, despite the, erm, technical hitch, erm, we will carry on…please ignore the, erm, Mercutio walking off. He is in fact dead.”

  I could hear Dad and Uncle Eddie booing.

  The next scene was Melanie’s big climbing onto the balcony scene. All of the lads crowded round the sides of the stage. The atmosphere was so stiff with hormones I could have cut it with my sword. But sadly, I had broken it trying to open a bottle of lemonade backstage.

  Melanie put her foot on the lower rung of the ladder and then reached out to haul herself up to the next rung. All of the lads and the audience went “Ooooooohhh” and then she went for the next rung and they all went “Ooooooohhh.” It was riveting to watch.

  Finally, she got to the balcony and hauled herself up onto it. As she stood up and opened her arms to speak, all the buttons on her tunic pinged off. And as she looked down in horror, Dave the Laugh said really loudly, “Are these my basoomas I see before me?”

  after show

  I like to think the play was a unique experience for everyone. Lots of people came backstage and said they had quite literally never seen anything like it.

  We were all doing a mad conga backstage, wearing beards, when Masimo came in.

  I had completely forgotten he was coming.

  I felt so awful.

  He looked at me in my beard with Dave the Laugh and the others.

  Oh no.

  He wasn’t going to challenge Dave the Laugh to another fisticuffs at dawn, was he?

  I wouldn’t really blame him this time.

  In fact, I would lend him my handbag.

  Shut up, brain.

  Then he smiled at me.

  It was a really lovely smile.

  I went over to him and he said to me, “Cara, can we talk for a minute? Not too long away from your friends.”

  And he wasn’t being mean or anything, just really lovely and soft.

  We went off down the corridor and through the fire exit to the outside.

  Which was great as I thought my head was going to explode into flames.

  He looked at me and stroked my face.

  Thank God I had quickly removed my beard.

  He said, “Georgia, I am going to say this, for you. I am going for London. I will go, now, tonight.”

  I went, “But, but…”

  And he said, “I don’t think I can speak long, for my heart. But I see how this is for you. I know you like me much, but you are, your heart is here. I will not make you choose. I am going. Be happy. I do not think I will ever meet anyone like you again…. Ciao.”

  And he gave me the longest, softest kiss. I couldn’t speak. My head had frozen over.

  And he just went.

  I should run after him. I should say something.

  But.

  I went back into the theater. Like I was in a soup. I went and sat down by the loos.

  How did I feel?

  I don’t know.

  I must have been sitting there for about five minutes when Jas came out.

  She saw me and came over to me.

  First of all she was saying, “People cried when I died.” Blah blah ramble ramble.

  But then she stopped and said, “Gee, what is it?”

  I said, “Masimo has gone off to be with the Stiff Dylans in London.”

  She put her arm about me.

  “Oh, Gee. How do you feel?”

  I said, “I dunno, funny.”

  She said, “Oh, I’m sorry. You’ve liked him for ages, I know. And he is lovely. I know I said the Dave thing but I think you really were right to like him, but…”

  I looked up at her and even though she was fiddling with her wig, I didn’t mind.

  I just said, “But what?”

  She looked a bit thoughtful.

  “Well, he always made you nervous, and you know, we’re only, like, well we’re not like Jul, are we? I mean, we aren’t going to get married, are we? Just yet…or…well, I think we need our pals. And we need to grow up a bit together. Like a little family.”

  I looked at her.

  “I would really miss you if you weren’t here, Jas.”

  She said, “I know and I would really miss you.”

  And she gave me a big hug.

  Then she said, “We’ll be alright, little pally. I bet you something really nice will happen now. It will all work out in the end.”

  I said, “How do you know that?”

  And she said, “I don’t know, it just does. Do you want a midget gem?”

  I nodded. I did quite want one as it happened.

  She went off and I just sat there again.

  I was looking down at the floor when I heard her coming back again.

  I said, “Can I have the black one?”

  And Dave the Laugh said, “You cheeky minx.”

  I looked up at him.

  He said, “Jas told me.”

  I looked at him.

  He has the loveliest smile.

  I said to him, “You said, ‘Are these my basoomas I see before me’ and everyone heard you.”

  He said, “I know, I am the vati.”

  I said, “Yeah, you are the double-timing vati.”

  He said, “What do you mean?”

  “You know, your secret girlfriend that you dumped Emma for.”

  He looked at me.

  “You may be the thickest chick alive. You’re the secret girlfriend, you daft tart.”

  And he kissed me.


  I said, “So, do you want to be my girlfriend? I mean, do you want to…”

  He put his arm around me.

  “Go on then, Sex Kitty, I’ll be your girlfriend. It’ll probably all end in tears. Mine. But…I am Dave the Biscuit. I will survive. Give us a snog and possibly a Rummachen unterhalb der Taille. Go on, you know you want to.”

  And I did want to.

  the end

  So as Billy Shakespeare said, “Forsooth and verily all endeth happily in the snogging department.”

  Probably.

  Or something?

  What do you think?

  I’ll be the last to know.

  Great Mates Scale

  Offer a mate a midget gem without being asked.

  Share your last Jammy Dodger even though you really want it and your mate may be flicking her fringe about.

  Listen to your mate rambling on about themselves when you have got vair important things to do yourself (e.g., nails, plucking, etc.).

  Be with your mate through thick and thin. Or even if they are both thick and thin. Tee-hee. I made a great mate type joke there. Did you see??? Which leads me to No. 5.

  Always be game for a laugh even though you may be blubbing on the inside.

  Even when she has all the reason in the universe to be Top Dog (i.e., when she is the girlfriend of a Luuurve God, even if it is slightly on a sale-or-return basis), a top mate does not blow her own trumpet. Or snitch on her less fortunate mates.

  Glossary

  bhaji • A bhaji is an Indian food. An onion bhaji is brown and round and full of fat, hence my hilarious joke about Slim looking like one. I exhaust myself with my good humor, I really do.

  Blimey O’Reilly • (as in “Blimey O’Reilly’s trousers”) This is an Irish expression of disbelief and shock. Maybe Blimey O’Reilly was a famous Irish bloke who had extravagantly big trousers. We may never know the truth. The fact is, whoever he is, what you need to know is that a) it’s Irish and b) it is Irish. I rest my case.

  Blu-Tack • Blue plasticine stuff that you stick stuff to other stuff with. It is very useful for sticking stuff to other stuff. Tip-top sticking stuff actually. I don’t know why it’s called Blu-Tack when it clearly should be called Blue Sticking Stuff. Also, “Blue” is spelled wrong, but that’s life for you.

  blodge • Biology. Like geoggers—geography—or Froggie—French.