Planet Janet

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Planet Janet Page 6

by Dyan Sheldon


  WEDNESDAY 31 JANUARY

  The Mad Cow was in a prize bitch mood this morning. If she got paid by the moan, she’d be a millionaire. All I did was ask where my black trouser-skirt was and she went mad. “I’m not your skivvy, young lady! If you want it washed, get off your fat arse and wash it yourself!” (I nearly burst into tears. She knows I’m sensitive about my weight!) Justin shuffled in right then, asking about breakfast (one of the few verbal communications he can be relied on to make), and she rounded on him for a change. She told him he could do his own laundry from now on too. (How unfair is that? He only changes once every couple of weeks, whereas I change at least twice a day!) After that crack about my fat arse (like she can talk!), I didn’t feel much like eating, so I made my escape. I was HOURS early, of course. It would’ve served the MC right if I’d been raped by some drug-crazed psychopath on his way home from a night of carnage. That’s what I was thinking as I turned into the road the school’s on. I was imagining my mother weeping on television, begging the nation to tell the police if they knew anything that could lead to the arrest of the heartless killer of her only daughter. I was practically crying myself. And what happened next? All of a sudden I heard a mobe go off behind me. It was playing the Star Wars theme song. The Star Wars theme song is definitely not something you’d expect a normal person to have on their mobe. It really took me by surprise, but I managed to calm myself down. (Psychopaths are like dogs – they can smell fear.) Besides, I was fairly certain a drug-crazed psychopath wouldn’t remember to take his mobe with him. I mean, who would he call? Psychopaths don’t have friends. And even if he did, what would he say? “Hi, I’m on the street and I’m just about to attack this attractive young woman with a bum like Jennifer Lopez’s who’s walking on her own.” I looked round. It wasn’t a mobe. It was a hi-tech bicycle bell. And on the bicycle (which was also hi-tech) was ELVIN!!! Electricity shot through me as if I were a metal pole (the metal pole of Love!). I couldn’t believe it! What was he doing here? What if I hadn’t left early? What if I’d been LATE? I half expected Catriona Hendley to drop out of a tree and ruin it all. Elvin said, “Hi. It’s Jan, isn’t it?” I admitted to being Jan. He got off and walked the rest of the way with me. He was meeting Calum to give him something before school. I mentioned that Disha and I saw him in the café on Saturday, and he said we should have come in and said hello, so I explained that we were just going to our yoga class and didn’t have time. He said he’d always been interested in yoga. I said it had changed my life. I told him we went into the café a lot (which is a slight exaggeration, but we do pass it quite often on our way to the video shop). I said we went there after our yoga class for herbal tea and stuff like that because there aren’t that many places that cater for veggies. He said he didn’t know I was a vegetarian too. I laughed as we turned in at the gate. I am now.

  Bought a lock for my bedroom on the way home. If I’m going to really get into my yoga, I can’t live in fear that Justin’s going to burst in to take more photos. It destroys my concentration.

  I asked Willow about Leo. She said if I got her the exact birth date and time she could do a real chart for me, since a lot depends on what’s rising and stuff like that. I said that’d have to wait until after I’d found out Elvin’s last name (Disha isn’t sure what it is). In general, though, Willow says that Leo’s a fire sign, which is Creative and Charismatic (how true is that?!!). She says Leos are into expressing themselves and like an audience. You’d think she knew him, she was so dead on. She offered to do my cards, to see if my Leo showed up in them, but the human Jupiter was rising pretty steadily while I was there (he was climbing round the house without touching the floor, so things kept falling) so I told her I had enough to be going on with.

  Disha asked Calum if he met up with Elvin this morning and Calum didn’t know what she was on about. So Detectives Bandry and Paski now know that meeting Calum was just a feeble excuse. Elvin was there to see ME! I actually TINGLE when I think of it.

  THURSDAY 1 FEBRUARY

  I made my announcement about turning veggie at supper tonight (last night we had sausages, which is one of the few things the MC can actually cook properly, so I reckoned I might as well have one last meal as a meat-eater). As per usual, I had to wait for Sigmund and his wife to finish their argument, but as soon as they took a break I pushed my plate away and went for it. “I can’t eat this,” I said. The Mad Cow turned her venomous gaze on me and wanted to know why not. Justin said he’d have it. Sigmund didn’t say anything, because he’d already stormed off to go to one of his groups (Sigmund’s got more groups than Columbia Records). I explained that I had become a vegetarian and would only be eating fish, chicken and soya burgers from now on. “And you’ll be cooking them yourself too,” mooed the Mad Cow. “I’m not making special meals for you.” I pointed out that her sister, Sappho, was a VEGAN and she didn’t have to cook her own meals when she came round. The Mad Cow said I could go and live with her. And they talk about teenagers having attitude!

  I was going to mention to Mrs Kennedy that the twins have been a little overactive lately. But I never got the chance. As per usual, she was flapping all over the place getting ready and banging on about what a great person Sigmund is and how lucky I am to have him as my father. I always agree. I see no reason to burst her bubble.

  FRIDAY 2 FEBRUARY

  Cinderella Bandry (that’s ME) was fixing herself a veggie burger for supper tonight when the oven mitt caught on fire. I reacted immediately. (I was v impressed!) Without a second’s hesitation, I swung round and hurled the mitt into the sink. This was obviously the most intelligent thing to do, but of course the Mad Cow was in my way and the mitt hit her instead. You’d think I’d shot her (and except for a little singed hair she wasn’t even hurt). Now she’s changed her mind about me cooking my own food. Didn’t I say she’s menopausal? What more proof do you need, I ask you? She’s up one minute and down the next like an oil pump.

  I think I’m starving in the clinical sense. The incident with the MC and the oven mitt distracted me so much that the burger got burned and all I had for supper was vegetables. It’s like living on water. But I’m not giving up. The Hendley has enough advantages with Elvin. I can’t let her have that one too. And all I had last night was a cheese sandwich. I had to stop at McDonald’s on the way to school this morning, I was feeling so faint. I ate two boxes of those chicken things (I couldn’t eat duck – you know, because ducks are so cute – but chickens aren’t very attractive so I reckon they’re all right). But coming home on the bus tonight was this depressed-looking giant chicken (wearing Reeboks) and I wondered if it was some sort of sign and started feeling guilty.

  Disha says she was once given a bag of baby carrots by a giant rabbit on Parkway. She says he was really grubby and there was even a stain on one of his ears. She threw the carrots away.

  Last night was the last straw as far as Mr Kipling is concerned. They always say that you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but as far as I can see you can’t teach a cat ANYTHING. If I’m not really careful about keeping my door shut, I find him sleeping on my bed, spreading fleas and cat fur. But I was so exhausted by the time I got back from Mrs Kennedy’s last night that I forgot to shut the door properly and I woke up with him actually ON MY FACE! He licks himself ALL OVER, for God’s sake! So tonight, while the MC and Nan were busy stupefying their minds with some shallow piece of popular entertainment on the telly, I shoved him out into the garden. I reckon he’ll be all right there till morning. There’s no way he can get over the wall (it’s v high) with his big belly. If I could get rid of Justin that easily I’d be REALLY happy.

  SATURDAY 3 FEBRUARY

  Sigmund thinks my decision to show respect for other animals and turn veggie is the sign he’s been waiting for that I’m not just getting older; I’m growing up as well. He’s delighted to see me thinking for myself and accepting responsibility for my own life. (I don’t understand why he sounded so surprised.) Then he said that at least
I was doing better than the “bloody government”. I bet the bloody government isn’t as hungry as I am though. I finished off the shepherd’s pie Mrs Kennedy left for the twins’ supper on Thursday before I remembered about being a vegetarian. I reckon it’s all right though, because she used mince and that doesn’t really count as meat either.

  Willow said the giant chicken wasn’t a cosmic sign. She said he stands in front of that new chicken restaurant, handing out flyers. I said I didn’t think he really was a chicken (he was wearing trainers!), I just thought maybe the universe was trying to make me feel bad by putting him on my bus. Willow said he was just going to work. Which is probably why he looked depressed. I thought about that, and I can definitely understand it. What must it be like, getting up every morning and putting on this bright yellow chicken suit, knowing tomorrow you’re going to get up and do the same thing, and the next day, and the day after that … maybe for your whole life? (And I bet he’s paid chicken feed!) I will never take a job as a giant chicken, no matter how desperate I am for cash.

  Sappho came over this afternoon with her new girlfriend, Mags (she’s nice; she looks normal), and a Congratulations on Becoming a Vegetarian present for me. I was braced for some more feminist propaganda (never mind the winter solstice, for my birthday she gave me this huge book on the history of the suffragettes – she couldn’t expect me to read it, so I reckoned I was meant to use it as a weapon), but what it was was this excruciatingly cool pair of purple combat trousers. Sappho said that every woman should own a pair, since they’re in combat most of their lives. I would’ve liked them a teeny bit darker, but last time I commented on something Sappho gave me she took it back, so I kept quiet. I think Mags must be a mellowing influence on Sappho.

  Nan and Sappho are usually kept pretty much apart, because Nan thinks lesbians are really unchristian, and she made sure Sappho knew how she felt right from the first time they met, which was at the parents’ wedding. On that first, historic occasion, Sappho got melodramatic and stopped the band in mid-song by loudly demanding to know why it was all right for Jesus to hang out with whores but not with gay people. On this occasion, however, Nan got a lot of sympathy from Mags for her broken arm, which kept her happy. And even Sappho was impressed with Nan’s story (HORRIBLY EXAGGERATED, of course) of how she nearly caught the perpetrator because of her training in the war. Sappho said Nan was a closet feminist, and even Nan laughed. So anyway, we got through giving me my present and showing Mags the flat without too much trauma. But as soon as we sat down for tea Sappho started banging on about female sexuality (not that anybody asked). It was so très boring. Especially if you’ve heard it all about six million times before. I was practically asleep when Nan suddenly shot to her feet, shouting, “I never had one of those things, and it didn’t do me any harm!” It was pretty dramatic, with the sling and all. I had no idea what “things” she was talking about but she definitely had my attention. Sappho put on her best professor of women’s studies voice and said, “Mrs Bandry, are you saying you’ve never had an orgasm?” This is not a word I’ve ever heard spoken aloud in our kitchen before. (In fact, I reckon it’s not something that’s happened very often in our house. If ever. The only sounds I’ve ever heard from the parents at night are either arguments or Sigmund’s snores.) I wasn’t alone. The Mad Cow spat the biscuit she was chewing right across the table. I thought she was going to choke to death. Mags asked if anybody wanted more tea.

  SUNDAY 4 FEBRUARY

  To tell you the truth, I forgot all about Mr Kipling until this morning when I went to the kitchen for my breakfast and found Nan weeping and wailing in a v major way because she couldn’t find her cat (and this from a woman who was apparently trained to disembowel Nazis – I ask you, does that make sense?). The MC was gnashing her teeth. I acted v surprised when they told me what’d happened. I said I remembered seeing Mr Kipling last night so he must be somewhere, but this didn’t have the desired effect of chilling them out until I could sneak into the garden and get him. Instead, the MC made us all look for the fat lump. She even had me crawling under the furniture. (You should see the dust and cobwebs! All I can say is I hope the MC’s a better teacher than she is a housekeeper or the youth of Britain’s REALLY in trouble.) I gave up when I broke a nail. I said unless he’d gone under the floorboards Mr Kipling wasn’t in the flat. I said maybe he’d got out. Justin’s always leaving the door open after all. I volunteered to search the garden. I reckoned I was in for a lot of positive reinforcement and maybe even a bit of cash when I returned with Mr Kipling purring in my arms. Which I would’ve done, if I’d been able to find him. But he wasn’t in the garden. Cats are really contrary, aren’t they? All these years I’ve never seen Mr Kipling jump higher than the kitchen counter, and all of a sudden he’s leaping over the garden wall like Supercat.

  Disha and I went to Camden Market this afternoon. I got my nose pierced! I’ve been thinking about it for EONS and today I just went for it. Never mind the pain or possible disfigurement. (Even Catriona Hendley doesn’t have her nose pierced!) Disha isn’t sure how she feels about self-mutilation, so she just got two more holes put in each ear. We spent hours wandering around the market. It was well cool (aside from all the wicked clothes, we saw someone throwing up outside a pub, and someone else being dragged off by the police). I bought this Chinese skirt and these really cheap wind chimes (they’re meant to be very calming, and with Nan in the flat I need all the calm I can get, so I bought three). Disha left me on my own while she went to get some fried noodles since I’m back on my diet today. Even though I don’t eat ANYTHING now that I’m a vegetarian I seem to have gained two pounds! (D says if crisps were made of pork I’d be all right.) Anyway, I was looking at the bowls on one of the stalls when the bloke said to me, “So what do you like?” I said I thought the blue fish bowl was nice, and he said that wasn’t what he meant. I don’t know why I always smile when someone says something I don’t understand, but that’s what I do. He smiled back. “Well?” he said. “Es … weed…? Maybe a hip girl like you wants something a little more exotic…?” I couldn’t believe it! It must be the nose ring. No adult has ever tried to sell me drugs before. Disha was furious that she missed it!

  The only member of my family who noticed my nose ring was Nan. She thought I’d joined a pagan cult. She said she’d always known something like this would happen. Sigmund told her to put a sock in it; it was only a ring. And then all of a sudden Justin decided to join in. He wanted to know if I realized that the nose ring was a symbol of slavery and servitude. For cows and pigs, I said. Justin said for women too. Traditionally, if a woman wears a nose ring it means she’s owned by a man. I said it was no such thing; it was a fashion statement. He said I’d be having myself circumcised next. (See what I mean by stupid? It’s boys who get circumcised! Everybody knows that!) If you ask me, his parents should have thought about how their son would be affected by the ravings of a militant feminist during his formative years. Anyway, I reckon he was in a bad mood because the MC made him put up LOST CAT posters all over the neighbourhood and he decided to take it out on me.

  MONDAY 5 FEBRUARY

  I couldn’t believe it! I came out of art with Marcus and there was Elvin! As soon as I spotted him I started laughing, even though Marcus wasn’t saying anything funny. It was brilliant! Elvin looked well surprised. He’d come to see Mr Belakis. (I can’t believe Disha didn’t find out that Elvin used to go to our school! She said I could have asked him that myself when I was talking to him the other day. Always an excuse!) Marcus wanted me to go to the high street with him, but I said I had things to do after school. I came out of the library just as Elvin walked past on his way out. I said I thought he’d be on his bike, and he said he wished that he was. He said it was the only way to travel in London, and I said too right. So when he asked me if I had a bike I automatically said yes (not a total lie – I used to have one; I just haven’t had one for a while). And GUESS WHAT? He asked me if I wanted to go riding on the heath with hi
m sometime! Do leaves grow on trees? I don’t remember much after that, although I’m sure everything he said was v intelligent and witty. I know it sounds weird, but I almost wished he hadn’t got on my bus. I really wanted to ring D and tell her all about it and everything he said etc. But then he said he was dropping by Catriona’s on his way home, and straight away I wished he wouldn’t get off.

  You’re not going to believe this, but Sappho says women can be circumcised! I said but we don’t have a penis and she said, “You really do live on your own planet, don’t you?” (Ha ha ha, right? You can see why no one’s ever accused feminists of having a great sense of humour.) I said well, we don’t have penises, and she said maybe it would do me some good to pay some attention when people are talking to me now and then. Phoned Disha and she didn’t know women could be circumcised either.

  TUESDAY 6 FEBRUARY

 

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