My Dating Disasters Diary

by Liz Rettig

  I answered the door.

  ‘Hi, Kelly Ann, is Angela ready?’ he said, with a pleasant smile I’d come to hate.

  ‘Sorry, she’s not in. I don’t know where she is and I’ve no idea when she’ll be back. She’s left her mobile here so there’s no point in calling her. Bye.’

  I started to close the door but he put his hand on it to stop me.

  ‘Now, Kelly Ann, don’t you know it’s a sin to lie? I saw your sister at the window.’

  Bollocks.

  ‘She’s not here,’ I repeated, since I couldn’t be bothered to think of another lie.

  ‘Now don’t worry about your sister, Kelly Ann. I know she’s had doubts about things recently but she’ll feel much better after our prayer meeting. Our group is going to ask God to bless our relationship and grant us guidance and strength. I have great faith in the power of prayer.’

  God, what a tosser. How did Angela put up with this? Totally determined to get rid of him now, I said, ‘Actually we’ve just come back from church. I went with her to help her pray for guidance.’

  ‘You did?’ he said, surprised and suspicious.

  ‘Yeah. We prayed really hard for ages and ages, then God answered us.’

  ‘He did?’ he said, even more sceptical now.

  ‘Yeah. God said you two should split.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’re making this up. That’s impossible.’

  ‘Oh really? I thought you were the one who believed in the power of prayer. God definitely said it. Clear as anything. In fact, he said Angela should dump you right away.’

  I tried to close the door but he blocked it and called past me, ‘Angela, come on down. The prayer group’s waiting.’

  Angela didn’t answer. He scowled and was about to barge in past me when, thank God, I spotted Mum walking towards our house, smoking a fag as usual.

  ‘Mum!’ I shouted.

  David pasted a smile on his face again and waited for her to come up to us.

  ‘What’s going on here?’ she said.

  ‘Good afternoon, ma’am. Nice to see you as—’

  ‘Angela doesn’t want to see him any more, Mum,’ I butted in quickly, ‘but he won’t leave her alone.’

  Mum eyeballed him. ‘Sod off.’

  ‘There’s seems to be some misunderstanding – I—’

  Mum dropped her cigarette on the doorstep and, still eyeballing him, crushed it with her foot. And it was nearly a whole one. God, she must be really mad. She said, ‘I thought I told you to sod off.’

  Idiot still didn’t take the hint. ‘I can assure you, ma’am, your daughter Angela is just going through a temporary period of doubt which with God’s grace will—’

  Mum put her bag on the ground then took off her coat and handed it to me, saying, ‘Here, look after this – it’s my good coat so I don’t want blood on it.’ She turned to David, who at last had shut up and was looking at Mum with the expression of someone who’d just spotted an unexploded bomb. Finally he got the message.

  Mum said, ‘Get your pompous arse off my doorstep and stay away from my girls or you’ll be meeting that Maker of yours a lot sooner than you’d planned.’

  He opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it, and without another word scuttled off.

  Mum watched him contemptuously. ‘Seems he isn’t in any hurry to sample that afterlife he’s always on about. I think that’s the last we’ll see of him.’

  Thank God for that.

  SATURDAY OCTOBER 9TH

  Albert the hairdresser charged sixty pounds just for a consultation so there was no way I could use him. Stephanie is great but I wish she’d understand that not everyone has rich parents like her.

  Managed to persuade Mum to give me thirty pounds for a proper cut though, as it’s my birthday next week, and went to the hairdresser’s after school. On the windows was an advertisement. MODELS WANTED. FREE HAIRCUTS.

  Fantastic. If they took me I could use the thirty pounds to spend on clothes and make-up. And a pizza maybe. I was starving.

  It was a trainee who was to cut my hair. She didn’t look much older than me, but I was told she’d be closely supervised and if there were any problems one of the more experienced staff would sort things out.

  Was relieved about that as the trainee, Tracey, didn’t even wash my hair properly. The water was too hot, she got shampoo in my eyes and nearly broke my neck by shoving my head too far back into the sink when I complained.

  Before she started cutting my hair, a proper hairdresser gave her some instructions and watched as she started to snip away at the ends, but then the place got very busy and she was called away, leaving me alone with Tracey.

  Wasn’t too worried though – I knew if Tracey made an arse of it, the proper hairdresser would fix it later. Meanwhile she snipped away. At first she asked stupid questions as she worked. Was I doing anything special tonight? And where had I gone on holiday? Like, as if she really cared. But she soon ran out of things to say and carried on in silence while I watched in the mirror.

  ‘Um, isn’t the right side a bit shorter than the left?’ I said.

  She looked at my reflection. ‘Hmm, yeah, maybe just a bit but I haven’t finished anyway. I was just about to even it up.’

  Yeah, right.

  ‘And the fringe is squinty,’ I said.

  ‘Like I said. I haven’t finished.’

  She started snipping at the left side, but this time she made that too short so she had to take ‘just a little bit more off the right’.

  But then the right was shorter so it was ‘just a smidgen off the left’.

  I looked on in horror. Bit by bit my hair was getting shorter and shorter.

  Finally I screamed, ‘No! It’s too short!’

  This brought the proper hairdresser running over. Thank God for that. But how could she sort out hair that was too short? Extensions maybe? Though I couldn’t see how you could attach anything to the stubble the trainee had left.

  She looked at my hair and frowned. Then, after a few moments’ silence, she said, ‘It’s fabulous.’

  ‘What? But it’s too—’

  ‘Absolutely gorgeous.’ She beckoned to two other hairdressers, who were busy with clients. ‘Come and see what Tracey’s done.’

  They crowded round me.

  ‘Isn’t it fantastic?’ one said.

  ‘Yeah, really suits her,’ the other agreed. ‘Look how it frames her eyes. Emphasizes her cheekbones.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s kind of, like, so gamine,’ the first one went on. ‘And, erm, sort of elfin. It’s all the rage this autumn. Celebs are queuing up for this cut.’

  Began to feel so much better. Looked at my reflection again. It had been a shock at first, but so many experienced hairdressers couldn’t be wrong. This style was all the rage and I really suited it. Bet Stephanie will be pleased with me.

  Before I left, I gave the trainee a five-pound tip. After all, she’d done a fantastic job and I was still saving twenty-five pounds on the cut.

  Decided to wander into St Enoch’s Square and see if I could find a nice skirt or top. Wished I’d gone to the toilet at the hairdresser’s, as I was desperate now and I’d have to pay twenty p just to pee. It was a total rip-off but I didn’t have a choice, and anyway I’d still saved a lot of money today.

  Was just about to go into the loos when I heard a man behind me shout out, ‘Oi, you!’

  Turned round to see an annoyed-looking security man glaring at me. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

  I shrugged and started to make my way in again. It was none of his business after all.

  But he shouted at me again: ‘Get your arse out of there.

  That’s the women’s toilets, ya scadgy wee perve.’

  Oh God. My hair really was too short!

  SUNDAY OCTOBER 10TH

  Stephanie and Liz are horrified and agree with me that there is absolutely no way I can go to school for at least two weeks so my hair can grow out. M
y planned meeting with Harry is also postponed.

  Mum and Dad are furious at paying thirty quid for me to be ‘scalped’ and I had a lot of trouble stopping them from going to the shop to complain (didn’t tell them about the trainee obviously or they might have thought it was partly my fault). Couldn’t persuade them to let me stay off school though – I’d get my arse back there or else – so I’ll just have to dog school without them knowing.

  MONDAY OCTOBER 11TH

  Mum and Dad were at work today and Angela off to college so it was easy to stay home without anyone knowing. Am avoiding mirrors as I really hate my hair. Despite my doubts about God’s existence I prayed to him for my hair to grow quickly. Can’t do any harm – unless He gets annoyed at people like me just using Him.

  To take my mind off my hair problem and pass the time, spent most of the day watching MTV. Saw my favourite band Smashed to Pieces doing a concert in London.

  Jason looked fantastic with his sun-bleached hair, eyes so blue they’re almost navy and a slim muscular body to die for. He peeled off his shirt during the concert – because he’d just got too hot, not a totally crass show-off thing – so you could see his smooth tanned chest and washboard abs. Mmmm. Stephanie says all these guys wax their chest hairs and use different shades of spray tan to make exaggerated fake abs, but I don’t think Jason is shallow and vain like that. The concert was in aid of the environment, for God’s sake. That’s how serious and responsible he is. No, Jason is just naturally fantastic-looking.

  Remembered Liz had a DVD of him – well, him and the rest of the band. Must ask her for a loan of it.

  TUESDAY OCTOBER 12TH

  Since I’d the house to myself again I watched the DVD over and over all day. Mmmm.

  I turned it off just before Mum got back and pretended to do homework while moaning about how much stuff teachers expected us to do out of school time this term. Felt a bit guilty as Mum let me off my usual jobs of setting the table for dinner and stacking the dishwasher afterwards as I was ‘so busy’. But really, I hadn’t asked her to, had I?

  After dinner Mum and Dad went to the pub because there was a quiz on (any excuse) and Angela said she didn’t want to watch anything on TV, so I settled down to watch my DVD again. God, Jason really was just so hot.

  Had just got to the bit where he takes his shirt off when Angela came in and said, ‘Kelly Ann, could I have word with you?’

  ‘I haven’t borrowed your mascara again, you must have lost it,’ I said, without taking my eyes off the screen.

  ‘It’s not that,’ Angela said. ‘I already found it in your blazer pocket two days ago. I just wanted to ask your advice about something.’

  I looked up at her now. ‘You wanted to ask my advice?’

  ‘Well, yes. It’s not something I want to discuss with Mum or Dad and you are my sister after all. It’s … it’s about Graham.’

  I paused the DVD. ‘Graham?’

  ‘Yes, he’s been texting me. For quite a while now actually. He says he misses me and wants to talk things over.’

  Oh God. Please no. OK, I know he isn’t as bad as David but that isn’t saying much. No way did I want Angela’s boring ex back now.

  ‘What did you say?’ I asked anxiously.

  ‘Nothing yet. The thing is, I’m not sure I could ever forgive him, Kelly Ann. He’s hurt me too much.’

  ‘Course you couldn’t,’ I said, relieved. ‘Just remember the stinking toilet. That should put you off.’

  ‘You’re right, Kelly Ann. I could never go back to anyone so insensitive.’

  ‘Totally. Just ignore the tosser.’

  ‘Yes. That’s just what he is. And a selfish pig too.’

  ‘And a complete bore.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t find him boring … But yes, maybe he was a bit, now you mention it. You’re right, Kelly Ann: he was nothing but an insensitive, selfish, boring tosser.’

  ‘Totally.’

  ‘I’ll text him that I never want to see him again, then I’ll go and have a nice relaxing bath.’

  ‘Good idea.’

  What a relief. Angela obviously realizes at last what a sad nerd Graham really is. There’s absolutely no chance she’d ever get together with him again now.

  I pressed the play button and settled back to watch Jason again. Mmmm.

  Was only halfway through when the doorbell rang. Angela was upstairs still having her bath so I had to answer it. Bollocks. Who could it be at this time?

  Was gobsmacked and annoyed to find Graham on the doorstep, all dressed in beige as usual. He looked surprised too.

  ‘Christ, what happened to your hair?’ he said.

  I scowled at him. ‘Fell out with horror when I heard you were texting my sister again. What do you want?’ ‘Is Angela here? I need to talk to her.’

  ‘She’s in the bath. A bath she can enjoy without wearing a gas mask now that you’re not around.’

  He flushed but I wasn’t sure whether it was from shame or annoyance. ‘I’ll wait until she’s finished. Can I come inside?’

  Bloody nerve. ‘No way. Angela doesn’t want anything to do with you and neither do I. Now shove off, boring beige boy, nobody wants to listen to your pathetic excuses.’

  God, I’d enjoyed that. And it didn’t matter how much I insulted him because I’d never see him again.

  I was about to slam the door on him when Angela called from the top of the stairs, ‘It’s OK, Kelly Ann. I’ll deal with this.’

  She had only just got out of the bath and was wrapped in a large pink towel, but she told Graham she would give him five minutes and let him in. He loped upstairs and they disappeared into her room.

  At first I thought she was just going to let him beg for a bit, then slag him off, but when an hour passed and he still hadn’t come down, I began to suspect they’d made up. Sure enough, when at last they came down, Angela and he were holding hands.

  She said to me, smiling shyly, ‘Graham has apologized and I’ve forgiven him. We’re going to try again.’

  Graham smiled dopily back at her. Oh God, pass the sick bag.

  ‘Oh, right, that’s, um, great,’ I lied.

  ‘Isn’t it!’ Angela said happily, then skipped upstairs to get changed and put on her make-up, leaving me and Graham to ‘chat’.

  Oh God.

  WEDNESDAY OCTOBER 13TH

  Mum wasn’t at work today so I was forced to put on my uniform and pretend to go to school. Instead I went into town and changed into normal clothes in the toilets. Wore a skirt instead of jeans, and a hoodie to hide my hair, so I didn’t risk being mistaken for a boy.

  It got boring after a while just wandering around and I was wishing I could be at home watching Jason when, oh my God, I spotted Mrs Valentine, our French teacher, just outside Debenhams. And she saw me. Looked right at me. I’m dead.

  I stood, frozen, and just stared at her with my mouth open like a filter feeder, but to my surprise she didn’t march straight over and demand in an outraged voice why I wasn’t at school. Instead she scuttled inside the store and disappeared.

  But she’d seen me. I knew she had. Aha! So that was it. I smiled. Mrs Valentine was dogging school too. I was safe.

  Went into W H Smith and searched for magazines with pictures and stories about Jason. Bought five, even though one of them only had two lines on him and cost two pounds fifty. It’s cheaper to Google him.

  Found a place to sit in St Enoch shopping centre. Had almost finished reading my magazines when an old gypsy woman who had set up a stall near me said, ‘Like me to read your fortune, love?’

  Looked at the board in front of the stall – PALMS READ £15 – and replied, ‘No thanks.’

  ‘I’ll do it for a fiver. Business is slow just now.’

  Have never had my fortune read. Thought it might be cool to know about exciting stuff that could happen. It would use up the rest of my hair money but I supposed I was bound to get some more for my birthday tomorrow.

  ‘You’ve got a lucky
face,’ the woman continued. ‘I can see good things happening for you. Great good fortune.’

  Hmm, thought it was hands not faces she read. Still, great good fortune. Sounded pretty exciting.

  The fortuneteller was amazing. I mean, so accurate. She told me I’d been on a trip across the water in the summer. And I had. How could she have known about that? She also said I had good friends, but nasty people who didn’t like me too. But maybe most spookily accurate of all, she told me I’d recently had a bad experience but it would be solved in time. My haircut.

  When she went on to predict my future it sounded so fantastic. I was going to be very fortunate. I would find True Love very early in life and, get this, meet someone famous soon who would have a big impact on my life. The famous person’s initial was P or C, or possibly S or J.

  Jason!

  THURSDAY OCTOBER 14TH

  My birthday! Can’t wait for tonight, when Liz and Stephanie are sleeping over, but it’s a bit lonely staying home on my own.

  Googled Jason again. Found out some amazing things about him. Like, for instance, although he has apartments in London and California he was actually born right here in Glasgow. Even went to school here until his parents moved to England when he was fifteen.

  And being born in Glasgow isn’t the only thing we’ve got in common. The weird thing is, he’s just so much like me.

  Unlike the rest of the band he doesn’t drink, smoke or do drugs.

  Neither do I.

  And he really cares about poor people, stopping wars and, most of all, the environment.

  Just like me.

  He hasn’t met that ‘special person’ yet but is happy to wait for the right girl.

  Me too. Although of course I’m waiting for a right boy.

  The thing is, I think I might have found him.

  OK, I know that must sound mental but I’m definitely not just a stupid obsessed fan like Debbie. I don’t care about Jason’s shoe size (101/2), birth weight (3.5 kilos), or rising sign (Aries, same as me!). And I’d never laser his face on my knickers (Jason and I would both find that totally vulgar). I’m interested in him as a real person.

  Found his fan site where people can email him. I’ve never done anything like this before but I really wanted to contact him.