by Dyan Sheldon
THURSDAY 18 OCTOBER
All I can say is, we DEFINITELY live in stressful times! (It’s a wonder the whole planet isn’t on drugs, if you ask me!) Marcus and I stayed after school again to work on our art projects. Mr Belakis rushed off afterwards, but before Marcus and I left to get the bus, I went to the ladies’ while he took the art-room key to Mr Tulliver. (I didn’t really have to go, but I knew that by the time I got home – public transport being what it is – I’d be desperate!) I was repairing the damage the ravages of the afternoon had done to my face – Marcus and I had been laughing so much that my eyes had run – when I knocked my mascara off the counter and it rolled under the sink. I bent down to pick it up and GASPED OUT LOUD!!! Right in front of my eyes, stuffed behind one of the pipes, was a SUSPICIOUS PACKAGE! (You really never think it’s going to happen to YOU, do you?) It was small and in a brown bag. I didn’t panic, of course, but I was CAUTIOUS (there’s been a lot on the telly about just this sort of thing!). I put all my make-up back in my case and raced out to get Marcus. Marcus, of course, is an artist not a fighter, but he didn’t hesitate for a nanosecond – he went straight in! (It was a side of him I’d never seen before and I was v impressed!) Marcus thought it was too small to be a bomb. I said if you can put a bomb in the heel of a SHOE (which apparently you can), the package could probably hold TWO bombs. Marcus was all for removing it and seeing what it was (is that FEARLESS or what?), but I reminded him that that’s EXACTLY what you’re not meant to do. The office was shut by then, but the news is always on at ours (so Buskin’ Bob can keep up with the injustices each new day brings), so I knew exactly what to do. I rang 999 on my mobe. I said I had reason to believe that there was an explosive device in the ladies’ of the main building at the Bere Road Secondary School. The police said to wait outside and they’d be RIGHT WITH US. All I can say is, I don’t know how the police reckon time but it’s not the way the rest of us do. HOURS PASSED. Marcus kept looking at his watch and telling me how many more minutes had passed. Five … ten … twelve-and-a-half … fourteen … twenty… I was just about to ring the coppers back when Mr Tulliver rolled up. He wanted to know what we were doing, standing there like we were waiting for a bus. I told him about the suspicious package. Mr Tulliver is fat and bald and doesn’t look like he was ever in the SAS (unless it was as a cook), but like Marcus he didn’t hesitate. He said this was just the sort of thing he’d been trained for and vanished inside. When another EON had passed, Marcus decided to go after him. I said I was certain we would’ve heard the bomb go off if Mr Tulliver’s training had let him down, but Marcus said maybe it wasn’t an explosive; maybe it just leaked a lethal gas and poor Mr Tulliver was passed out on the floor of the ladies’. I said we weren’t in an episode of Batman but Marcus wouldn’t listen. He didn’t come back either. By the time the police finally turned up (no lights or siren – you can only wonder what they consider an emergency!), I was feeling V ANXIOUS but I remained calm and explained about the suspicious package and the two brave men who had gone to investigate (and who, for all I knew, were BOTH passed out on the floor of the ladies’!). The first cop wanted to know why I thought it was a bomb. I said well, what else would I think it was, stuffed behind the sink like that? The second cop wanted to know if the rest of us could hear laughing. I’d never heard Mr Tulliver’s laugh before. (Well, I wouldn’t, would I? He’s usually fixing something or fishing something out of the biology pond in a professional manner.) But I recognized Marcus’s. I said maybe it wasn’t laughter; maybe it was hysteria. It was laughter. Mr Tulliver and Marcus came striding towards us. Mr Tulliver was holding up the paper bag and both of them were laughing so much there were tears in their eyes. Marcus said I should’ve seen Mr Tulliver in SAS mode. It was so much like a film that Marcus hadn’t even been frightened, he’d just stood by the door watching him sneak up on the bomb – ready to run. Only it wasn’t a bomb … it was a packet of cigarettes. The coppers said that if they had a quid for every bomb scare they’d investigated in the last few weeks they could take early retirement. Marcus wanted to know how many bombs they had found, and the coppers said that so far the cigarettes were the only things they’d discovered that would actually light.
FRIDAY 19 OCTOBER
Marcus thinks I should include the Hotspurs in my family portrait. I said that though it’s true you can’t get much more un-immediate than Buskin’ Bob, Marcella and Lucrezia, I have my doubts about them still being in the family by the time of the exhibition. Marcus wanted to know what made me say that. He thought they all seemed pretty well embedded in the family. I said he shouldn’t always go by appearances.
SUNDAY 21 OCTOBER
Spent the WHOLE day sorting out my costume for the party. I’m going to look so cool, people who come near me are going to need a jumper! Got a cheap black wig in the market as I’m not risking dyeing my hair after what happened last time.
MONDAY 22 OCTOBER
The first issue of Speak Out! hit the stands today!!! It looks FANTASTIC!!! Ms Staples said we should all be proud of ourselves (something you DON’T have to tell Catriona Hendley twice!). It was sold out by lunchtime. I heard quite a few people talking about MY column! Everybody thinks the teacher in Worried Mate’s letter must be Mr Plaget. They all want to know who Aunt K is, of course. Even Disha was nagging me. A few short months ago I might have weakened and told her, since I’ve never had any secrets from D, but now that she’s keeping me at a distance I found it easy to lie. I said I had NO IDEA. I said it was something Ms Staples cooked up and NO ONE on the magazine knows who it is but her. Then, very casual like, I asked her what she thought of the letter from Last Year’s Christmas Present. She said she hadn’t read it. She said she’d read the one from He Loves Me So Much and didn’t think much of the advice, so she’d stopped after that. She said it didn’t seem to her that Aunt K knew v much about Love. I said that didn’t mean she didn’t know a lot about insanity.
Gave D her birthday present at lunch since she was meeting Ethan straight after school for their PRIVATE celebration. Got her that top we saw in Gap. I said I knew she couldn’t wear it now, but, judging by what you read in magazines, there’s a good chance she’ll have another boyfriend in her lifetime and he might like orange.
TUESDAY 23 OCTOBER
I could hardly believe it but when I checked the mailbox this afternoon there were four letters for Aunt K! (This represents a definite deluge!) Ms Staples said hadn’t she told me this would happen? I said I’d never really doubted her but she knew better than anyone that the Creative Spirit is v sensitive and easily demoralized (great artists and writers are known for self-mutilation, suicide and drinking themselves to death – and what is that but the cry for help of a Delicate Soul?). Ms Staples said she never really thought of writing an agony column as requiring a great amount of Creativity (so even she has her limitations!). I said I didn’t really see much difference between writing a story, a poem, or a letter to Spotty and Desperate. Not that these new letters are any more interesting than the others, of course. I really do understand that to a person with dandruff or wobbly thighs there isn’t anything much worse that could happen, but reading all these letters has made me realize anew how shallow and trivial the lives of most people are. (And I thought it was just MY family!) Ms Staples said my column has certainly generated a lot of interest. I said good advice is much more relevant to people’s lives than poems about dusk in Indonesia, isn’t it? She said not only among the student body. Apparently Old Woolly Jumper wants a word with her.
WEDNESDAY 24 OCTOBER
As you know, I have nothing but respect and admiration for Ms Staples, so you can imagine how SHOCKED I was today to discover that she’s a snitch! She told Mr Cardogan who Aunt K is! She said she had no choice. So the upshot was that I had to go and see him!!! Old Woolly Jumper and I are not unacquainted, of course, but our meetings have always been about things like lateness and talking at the same time as a teacher. Mr Cardogan started out by telling me how brilliant the ma
gazine is and how proud he is of all of us. Then he went on to praise my column for being so practical and down-to-earth. He said he was pleasantly surprised. I said, “Really?” He said he’d always thought I had a rather flamboyant imagination. I said having a Passionate Heart and Soul didn’t mean you don’t know how to change a fuse. He said he also liked my sense of humour. I was just starting to think that I’d been worried over nothing when Old Woolly Jumper let me have it. He wanted to know if I was aware that there were rumours FLYING ALL OVER THE PLACE since my column came out. I said a school is like a village – there are always rumours flying about. He said not about one of his teachers going out with a student, there aren’t. I said if he’d read my column he’d know that Aunt K pooh-poohed the whole teacher idea and suggested that the mysterious boyfriend might be something much worse, like a traveller or a Womble. He said he accepted that I wasn’t personally responsible for the gossip but he would appreciate it in future if I stuck to things like diets and skincare. I said would Life? Would Life content itself with the odd spot and the need for garlic? I said I didn’t think so. He said he’d like us both to try. I said I’d see what I could do, of course. But I have ABSOLUTELY no intention of letting Aunt K be threatened or bullied by the reactionary forces of the Establishment. Freedom of the press is at stake!!! Disha wanted to know what Old Woolly Jumper wanted. I said he was wondering if I would like to do an interview with him for the magazine.
On a more positive note, Aunt K had FIVE more letters today! One Fat Bum, one Small Breasts, one My Boyfriend Would Rather Hang Out with His Mates Than with Me, one The Only Films My Boyfriend Wants to See Are Thrillers and one My Boyfriend Says I Talk Too Much (Answers: Learn to live with it and Dump him). It made me think once again about how très IRONIC life is. I mean, I’ve worked really hard for years (or at least months!) trying to write fiction with little success (though Ms Staples did have a lot of good things to say about the story I wrote in the spring) – and now here I am excelling at NON-FICTION. What if it is genetic? What if I’ve inherited psychoanalytical skills from Sigmund (even though he doesn’t really have that many) when my Heart and Soul cries out to be a novelist – or maybe an artist or poet? Am I to be thwarted and frustrated because of a mere accident of birth?
There MUST be a blue moon tonight! Got Disha to come with me, David, Marcus and Flynn after school to the new très trendy café by the canal as a late birthday treat for her. (Apparently Ethan’s working.) You can sit outdoors (YES – even in ENGLAND!!!) all year long because they’ve got heaters and umbrellas. Marcus said you have to hand it to British ingenuity and Flynn said he reckoned it was more likely to be American technology because Americans like to improve EVERYTHING but the British have always just muddled through and made do. We were mucking about, having a few laughs, when I thought I saw Ethan walk past. I said, “Hey, there’s Ethan!” Flynn and Marcus both swung round like turnstiles, but Disha said it wasn’t him. I said I was sure it was and she should go after him and bring him over, but she was ADAMANT. She said she thought she’d be able to pick her own boyfriend out of a crowd. Marcus said he was beginning to doubt that this bloke actually exists. Flynn said maybe he’s the Invisible Australian. Disha said she had to go.
THURSDAY 25 OCTOBER
It’s a sad and galling fact of my life that ever since I was little, the small, dull minds of my relatives have constantly accused me of having TOO MUCH IMAGINATION (as if there is such a thing, right?). Even Disha Paski (you remember her – she used to be my best friend in the universe) has been known to suggest that sometimes I get carried away. Well they can scoff ALL THEY WANT – guess what I saw today? Something that will force the doubters to think again about my instincts and judgement, that’s what!!! Flynn and I went to the high street after school to get me a driving handbook. We were walking back to mine when I saw Mr Plaget’s Beetle stopped at a light (you can’t miss it – most of it’s orange!). I was just about to wave when I realized who was sitting beside him! Oh, yes! It was none other than Catriona of-course-I-don’t-have-a-boyfriend Hendley!!! She was smiling and shaking her hair about the way she does. I pulled Flynn into a doorway so they wouldn’t see us. He wanted to know what was wrong with me. I said I’d just seen Catriona in Mr Plaget’s car. Flynn said, “AND?” and I said I had reason to believe that Catriona was the girl in Worried Mate’s letter. Flynn said, “And why is that?” I said, “Call it a hunch.” He said he’d rather call it a wild guess and that it was bad enough that people are whispering about poor Mr Plaget without me joining in. He is ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that Mr Plaget is not going out with Catriona or any other student. I said maybe, but you don’t have to be Einstein to work out that two and two makes four, do you? Flynn said actually Einstein flunked maths, so he probably wouldn’t’ve worked it out. Flynn said the fact is that Catriona’s in Mr Plaget’s advanced calculus class and it’s not a big deal if he gives her a lift. I said I still thought it was v suspicious. Flynn wanted to know if I remembered when I thought he was interested in Catriona? I said oh, that.
The driving manual is nearly FOUR HUNDRED PAGES LONG!!! I really think that’s a bit harsh. I mean, how can anyone be expected to remember EVERYTHING that’s in it? (Especially someone who’s doing her A levels!! There is only so much space in the human brain after all!) You’d have to have a photocopier memory.
Love’s Rollercoaster has done another deep dive. Disha rang in tears again tonight. (She’ll dehydrate if she doesn’t watch out!) She had yet another fight with Ethan. I asked what it was about this time. She said, “NOTHING” (between sobs!!!). Which, of course, is what she always says. I said I really didn’t think this was the way a relationship was meant to be. Not unless you’d been married for a while. I said was she sure she was in Love and not just having a nervous breakdown? Disha said nothing that was really worth having was ever easy. I said a lot of things that weren’t worth having (like AIDS) weren’t easy either. Disha said that’s what she loves about me, I always make her laugh. I said it didn’t sound to me like she was laughing – unless it was through her tears. I said why won’t she TELL ME what’s going on? She said it’s really no big deal. Also, I wouldn’t understand (she obviously doesn’t know WHO she’s talking to!!!). And she already knows what I’d say. I said I don’t see how she could know when I don’t.
FRIDAY 26 OCTOBER
Flynn has finally paid his father back for the parking ticket, so he took me shopping for party supplies in the car this afternoon. It’s so long since I’ve been in a real supermarket that the lighting, etc. practically made me SWOON! It was weird to be totally engulfed in food and not actually be able to smell any of it. Flynn said he never noticed. I started reading the labels on everything (it’s ASTOUNDING how even someone with a strong character like mine can be influenced without even realizing it!). Flynn wanted to know what I was doing. I said I was just checking for sugar and GM soya, etc. Flynn said I was mad. He said even crisps have sugar in them and if I kept that up we wouldn’t have ANYTHING to eat. Dropping Buskin’ Bob’s standards, we filled a whole trolley with unsuitable soft drinks and snacks!!! Then we went to the party shop and got balloons (black and purple) and streamers (also black and purple). And then we went to the cheap place across from the tube to get prizes. The MC noticed the carrier bags right off. She immediately started going on about how I was destroying the market stalls and small grocers of London. I said, “It’s my party and I’ll buy where I want to.” Flynn thought that was HILARIOUS but the Mad Cow didn’t even crack a smile. Flynn said he’d come round tomorrow to help me blow up the balloons, etc. I decided not to mention that Marcus is coming too in case he gets in one of his moods (I don’t know why it’s women who have a reputation for being temperamental – I find blokes v touchy!).
Told Disha about seeing Catriona with Mr Plaget. Disha thinks I should dedicate my brain to science. She said it’d distract them from human cloning for centuries trying to work it out. I said Flynn saw them too (which he would’ve if he’d been looking
). I said they seemed to be having a good time. D said he was probably just giving her a lift, which isn’t a crime in this country yet. I said a lift to where? Disha said a lift home.
Sometimes it almost surprises even me how I’m always right (though I do realize, of course, that I’m lucky to be so intuitive!). This afternoon Disha discovered that Lila and the Hendley have had a MAJOR FALLING-OUT!!!! I’m willing to concede that Mr Plaget might just have happened to give Catriona a lift home because she broke her foot leaving the school grounds or something, but not when at the VERY SAME TIME Catriona and Lila have stopped speaking. I mean, really – how can that be a coincidence? Catriona must’ve worked out who Worried Mate is. Disha said that wasn’t what Lila told her. Lila said it was over something Lila borrowed that she can’t find to give back. Pull the other one, that’s what I say. Flynn, of course, agreed with Disha. He asked if it had ever occurred to me that the letter might not be about Catriona? I said no.
SATURDAY 27 OCTOBER
It’s been GO! GO! GO! all day, but I have to STOP for just a few minutes to tell you what happened now because I’m V UPSET!!! (Now I know how that woman who found a tarantula in her bunch of bananas must’ve felt! Surprise doesn’t even BEGIN to cover it!) Flynn, Marcus and I were putting up fairy lights in the living-room (Marcus’s idea – so they’ll look like stars!) when the phone rang. It was Disha. She said she was REALLY, REALLY sorry but she’s not going to be able to come tonight because she’s got the worst period pains any woman has ever had since time began. I couldn’t believe she was using the old cramps excuse on ME OF ALL PEOPLE!!! I practically invented it! I said why didn’t she just take a painkiller? She said she’s been eating them like sweets but they don’t help. I said what about a hot-water bottle? She said that didn’t work either. I said what about Ethan? Wasn’t he looking forward to meeting everyone? She said had I forgotten that they’d had a fight? And anyway, he has to work. I said so why can’t she come on her own? She said because she’s got the worse period pains any woman has ever had since time began. I was TOO hurt and angry to argue. I said well, thanks for the birthday surprise and slammed down the phone! Then I burst into tears. Flynn and Marcus were v comforting. Flynn said maybe Disha really is in pain (she would be if she’d told me to my face!). I said yeah and maybe there’s a flock of pigs flying over London. I said I knew she was lying. Flynn said not to let this ruin the party for me. He gave me a hug. Marcus said you’ve still got US. He gave me a hug too. I put on a brave face and said of course I wouldn’t let the petty insanity of Disha Paski destroy my big day. But I was lying. How can I enjoy myself when my Best Friend has dumped me ON MY BIRTHDAY?!! I know, of course, that you can’t rely on anyone in this world, but I never dreamed that included Disha! I’ll get dressed and put a smile on my face, but I’ll be crying on the inside. (The dark, bitter tears of wisdom!)