by Liz Rettig
She shrugged. ‘Don’t know. I’m scared people would expect me to be more interesting and exciting if they knew we were related. And, well, I don’t want people pretending to be my friend just so they can get to meet him.’
‘Meet Jason!’
‘Yeah. I could tell Jason you’d like to see him after the show if you want. You want me to?’
Would I? Oh my God. Threw my arms round Bernadette and hugged her. Unfortunately this was witnessed by a crowd of third-year girls who’d just come in. Hmm, yeah, maybe it’s lucky I’m leaving tomorrow.
MONDAY DECEMBER 6TH
Was so happy to see my own school this morning I nearly kissed the gates but contented myself instead with grinning at Mr Smith, who was waiting to issue detentions to latecomers. He gave me a punishment exercise for ‘dumb insolence’ but I didn’t care.
Later double maths was just as boring as I remembered it; then, in English, Mrs Conner droned on for an hour about feminist writers. Loved it all.
And even Shelly … Well, no, I wasn’t happy to see Shelly again, but still, I was ‘home’ with all my old friends and didn’t need to eat lunch in the toilets. Bliss.
Mrs Conner has decided, at the very last minute, to do the school pantomime this year, after having initially vetoed the idea. But there isn’t much time now and it will be all hands to the pump to get us ready. Also, we’ll just be performing to fellow pupils and not parents or anything.
She said we could use most of the same costumes and sets from the year before last. She’d decide on casting tomorrow.
Hope I’m not the back end of a cow again.
TUESDAY DECEMBER 7TH
Don’t believe it! Mrs Conner has given me the star part as Cinderella. She must actually think I have real acting potential. Wait till I tell Jason about this. Maybe both of us will be famous one day. Hope our glittering careers don’t come between us.
Shelly was furious. She confronted Mrs Conner. ‘Kelly Ann as Cinderella is ridiculous. The heroine has to be the nicest-looking girl and, let’s face it, she just so isn’t.’
Mrs Conner gave her a cold look. ‘I suppose you imagine that role belongs to you, but Beauty, they say, is in the eye of the beholder. That is to say, subjective. The size of one’s feet, however, are not, and each of yours could fill a small canoe. Quite inappropriate for Cinderella.’
Everyone except Shelly and her friends started to laugh. Shelly flushed scarlet. ‘Well, I’m not going to be an Ugly Sister – don’t care what you say.’
‘Of course not, Shelly,’ Mrs Conner said calmly. ‘Such a part would be quite unsuitable for you.’
Shelly seemed a bit happier with that and the angry red colour of her face began to fade until Mrs Conner continued, ‘The Ugly Sisters are speaking parts and your acting ability is quite inadequate to the task. Instead, you will be the pumpkin. A much more appropriate role.’
Mrs Conner’s gaze swept the class. ‘Now then, does anyone else have a problem with my casting decisions?’
Nobody did.
WEDNESDAY DECEMBER 8TH
We got to try on our costumes for the play after school today. My Cinderella rags costume is really nice. A black top and short flared skirt with a cool jagged hem. Much nicer than the naff pink ballroom dress with puffed sleeves and ballooning skirt.
Still, I didn’t complain, especially when I saw Shelly’s outfit – orange tights and a huge cardboard pumpkin the size of a small room with holes for her head and legs. Hee hee.
THURSDAY DECEMBER 9TH
Has just occurred to me that Jason is probably a Catholic if he’s Bernadette ‘s cousin and once went to St Ann’s. Am concerned that this might cause a problem for our future relationship as I’ve heard the Catholic Church can get awkward about stuff like this.
I mean, just suppose when I meet Jason after the concert he likes me so much that we become really good friends. He’ll call and email me when he’s on tour abroad and give me and my friends free tickets to all his gigs in the UK. Gradually, over time, his feelings will deepen until he realizes that he actually loves me and we get engaged. We plan a huge celebrity wedding then, wham, just as we’re about to take our vows the priest says: ‘And just where is your baptismal certificate, Kelly Ann? Sorry, but if you’re not a Catholic, that’s it I’m afraid.’
Thought about contacting the Pope and asking him but reckoned he might be too busy praying, running the Vatican and looking after billions of Catholics to answer me before the concert.
Decided the bishop would do instead. Looked up his number and called but it was answered by an administrator person who said the bishop was saying Mass and did I want to leave a message?
Saying Mass on a Thursday? He was probably just trying to put me off. Told him I needed to speak personally to the bishop and it was urgent, so could he ask him to just come to the phone right away? It should only take a minute.
But the administrator person got really annoyed with me. He refused to interrupt the bishop and told me quite snootily that I would need to call back and wouldn’t be able to speak personally with the bishop until I’d told him what it was about.
Put the phone down. There was no way I was discussing personal business with some nosy secretary person.
Found an American Catholic website called askabishop.com, where you could email questions to bishops who weren’t too stuck up to deal with normal people.
To: Bishop
From: Kelly Ann
Subject: Marriage
Dear Bishop(s)
I am very much in love with a Catholic boy but am not one myself (Catholic). I hope that you are not the narrow-minded bigots some people say you are and that it would be OK for us to get married. Please let me know ASAP.
Thanks
Kelly Ann
Got an answer:
Dear Kelly Ann
Thank you very much for your enquiry. I just wondered whether
1. you are both over sixteen
2. this boy actually wants to marry you.
The Catholic Church, for moral and legal reasons, cannot of course condone underage or forced marriage. If you could reply to these questions we would be happy to provide you with further information regarding inter-faith marriage.
So annoying. Why do they need to ask nosy questions instead of just responding to my polite enquiry? Hmm. Obviously they are all narrow-minded bigots intent on spoiling young people’s happiness. I’m sure Jason won’t let them interfere with our relationship.
FRIDAY DECEMBER 10TH
Will see Jason tomorrow. In the flesh. It’s really going to happen. Oh my God!
SATURDAY DECEMBER 11TH
We went to the concert early because I was too excited to sit at home any more and Stephanie likes to watch the guys who haul things about on stage before the band comes on.
A security person took our tickets, noted the number and said, ‘Right, you’re the ones that are meeting Jason back stage after the show. Wait till I come for you and for God’s sake don’t go telling anyone about it. You’ll get lynched.’
Bernadette had got us fantastic seats right at the front. At first the place was nearly empty but gradually the hall filled to bursting point.
The supporting band came on first. They were OK, I suppose, but everyone just wanted to see Smashed and couldn’t be bothered with them. Especially me. When they finished I applauded loudly though. Partly because I felt sorry for them and partly relief that I’d see Jason soon.
However, another ten minutes crawled by and still Smashed hadn’t come on. Everyone started to chant, ‘We want Smashed. We want Smashed.’
At last the lights dimmed then came up again and, oh my God, there they were. I was sitting, like, only about five metres from Jason. And he looked even more gorgeous in real life.
Everyone stood up, then started screaming and cheering. I shouted, ‘Jason, I’m over here,’ but I don’t think he heard me because of the noise.
When they launched into the first song, people qui
etened down, just waving their arms and dancing along to the beat. The band did a few fast songs, then Jason came right to the front of the stage and did a solo love song.
I swear our eyes met and his gaze held mine for the entire number as he sang, ‘Baby, baby, baby, I love you’. It was as though we were the only two people there, right until the end, when I got knocked to the ground and trampled on as people behind me surged to the front and had to be pushed back by security men.
Never mind. None of those desperate idiots would get to meet Jason one to one. Only me.
After the show the security man who’d checked our tickets came up to us and hissed, ‘Right, you two, come with me and keep your mouths shut.’
So it was really going to happen. I was going to see Jason. Talk to him. Oh my God.
He took us through a side door into a corridor at the back of the stage, then stopped at another door and knocked, giving his name and code which I didn’t catch.
The door opened and he came out. Stood right in front of me. Near enough to touch.
Jason said, ‘Hi, Kelly Ann. Great to meet you.’
He said my name. He said Kelly Ann. That’s me. I gazed at his gorgeous face and felt my knees tremble, then my throat closed up so that I could hardly breathe. I opened my lips to speak but my tongue had dried up and was sticking to the roof of my mouth.
I said, ‘Nnnnng.’
Jason said, ‘So how are you doing?’
I said, ‘Nnnnng mmm nnnng.’
Oh God, what was happening to me? I must have sounded like a constipated orang-utan.
Jason said, ‘Hope you liked the show. Cool T-shirt. Did you get it from my fan club site?’
I closed my mouth, which had been hanging open, and pressed my lips to together. This time I would form proper words like a normal person. I would. Tried again.
I said, ‘ ‘
Nothing. Not a sound. I’d lost the power of speech.
Maybe I’d never talk again.
‘I’ll sign it for you if you like.’
I said, ‘ ‘
Stephanie said, ‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ and handed him a pen.
He started to sign the sleeve of my T-shirt. Actually touched it, so I could feel the heat of his fingers through the thin material.
He said, ‘Well, it’s been great talking to you anyway.’
Then I fainted. Totally passed out.
Stephanie told me later that Jason picked me up and carried me to the medical room, where he put me on the bed. He stayed with me while a paramedic examined me; then his manager came and told him his car was waiting, and the paramedic said that I was round. Then he asked, ‘Sure she’s OK?’
Stephanie said I wasn’t but the paramedic said I was fine now, and he’d better be off or I might just pass out again when I saw him. Then Jason left.
Jason had picked me up. Actually held me. And I don’t remember it. The most important moment of my entire life and I was unconscious. Don’t believe it.
SUNDAY DECEMBER 12TH
Bernadette called to ask how I was. She’d been talking to Jason on the phone and he’d asked if I was OK.
Jason asked if I was OK. So he must really care.
Thinking quickly, I said, ‘Oh yeah, I’m fine. It was just, you know, the heat that got to me. The hall was so stuffy. Look, if you give me his number I’ll call him myself and tell him.’
‘Sorry, Kelly Ann, I don’t know his mobile number. But he’s coming over to our house later for an hour or so before flying back to London. I’ll let him know you’re fine.’
Oh my God. Another chance to see Jason – this time I vowed I wouldn’t make an idiot of myself. But Bernadette was really reluctant to let me visit her house, so I had to beg and plead with her for ages, at the same time frantically getting myself ready for him. Finally she gave in. She didn’t have an exact time for his visit, and I didn’t want to risk missing a moment with him, so as soon as I was ready I got Dad to drive me over. I’d wait for Jason there.
Hadn’t asked Bernadette for directions but fortunately Dad knew the area well so he found the street no problem and dropped me off outside her house.
Bernadette ‘s house looked ordinary from the outside but I nearly freaked when I went in. The hall was painted black and lit with candles, and there was a large red pentacle drawn on the floor.
The living room was more normal, but her mum, who was sitting watching TV, was definitely not. She was dressed in a long white robe decorated with strings of beads and shells. On her head she wore a wreath of twisted leaves which I found out later were ‘magical’ herbs.
Bernadette ‘s mum is apparently a white witch. I was not to worry about the hall decorations, which were for protection against evil forces and not a place to practise the Dark Arts. Actually, she was very nice and friendly, but totally bonkers of course. No wonder poor Bernadette tried so hard to be ordinary and boring.
Once I’d got used to Bernadette’s odd mum I started to panic about meeting Jason. What if I just keeled over again? How could Jason ever get to know me and, when I’m old enough, ask me out if I was constantly unconscious when we were together?
It didn’t help that he was late: my stomach was twisted into knots by the time the doorbell rang. Bernadette’s mum went to answer it but I stayed on the couch trying to breathe normally. If I stayed sitting down, I couldn’t faint, could I?
Didn’t recognize Jason straight away as he’d on dark glasses and a baseball hat – I suppose to disguise himself from fans or the media. Didn’t recognize the girl with him either to begin with, as she was wearing a hat and sun specs too.
Jason took off his hat and glasses, then, looking at me, said, ‘Hi, how are you? You feeling OK now?’ He turned to the girl, who was a stunning blonde and seemed vaguely familiar. ‘That’s the kid I was telling you about. Bernadette’s friend, who passed out.’
His girlfriend is called Grace. She’s a successful actress who’s appeared in quite a lot of Australian soaps. Despite this she wasn’t stuck up at all and chatted to Bernadette and me like we were equals. A really friendly, lovely person in fact. Have never hated anyone so much in my life.
MONDAY DECEMBER 13TH
Stephanie and Liz were really sympathetic when I told them.
Liz said, ‘Gorgeous looking, famous and nice. You’d think she’d have the decency to be a horrible person you could hate without feeling guilty. Bitch.’
Stephanie flicked through a magazine to find a picture of Grace wearing a bikini which clearly showed a bit of cellulite on her thighs but it didn’t help much. The truth is, Jason had called me a ‘kid’ and that’s all I’d ever be to him. The idea of him ever being my boyfriend, even in a few years’ time, was about as real as Leo had been.
I know Liz and Stephanie were trying to cheer me up but they don’t really understand how I feel. I don’t feel guilty or angry. I feel totally humiliated and stupid. Which is much, much worse.
Both of them offered to come round and keep me company tonight. Stephanie said she’d give me a makeover but with definitely no waxing involved. Liz suggested a DVD with pizza and promised not to psychoanalyse me. But I turned them down. Knew I’d be about as much fun tonight as a wet duvet at a sleepover.
Instead I came home and moped. Even my family noticed there was something up with me. Mum asked, ‘What’s up with your face?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Hmm, so how come you look like a hen that’s trying to lay a pineapple then?’
Charming.
Dad said, ‘Leave the girl alone, Moira. Can’t you see she’s upset? You could try a bit of diplomacy, you know.’ He turned to me and said with a kindly smile, ‘Cheer up, love, it might never happen.’
That was it. ‘That’s the whole sodding point,’ I screamed. ‘It isn’t going to happen. Nothing is going to happen. Ever. In my whole life. I’ll just go on and on, living in this house day after day, with nothing ever happening until I rot and die of old age and am buried, an old maid in
a white coffin.’
I ran out, banging the door behind me. Once in my room I threw myself on my bed and sobbed with frustration. After a few minutes Angela tapped softly on my door and whispered, ‘Kelly Ann?’
Thought of ignoring her but eventually decided to let her in. It was nice of her, I suppose, to be concerned about me. OK, Angela and I didn’t have much in common but she was my sister after all. We shared a genetic bond, a house and bloody awful parents. Maybe talking to her about my devastated life would help.
I opened the door but she didn’t come in. Instead, she said, ‘Kelly Ann, did you borrow my pink lip gloss again? It’s Graham’s favourite and we’re going out tonight.’
Hmm, or then again, maybe it wouldn’t.
I denied the lip-gloss theft, but after she threatened to ransack my room I took it from its hiding place (in my right trainer underneath the bed) and handed it over. She left without even saying thank you.
I put on some music to cheer myself up, but either they were really sad songs about lost loves which depressed me, or really happy songs about people totally loved up which depressed me even more.
It was nearly eight o’clock when someone tapped on my door again. Probably Angela looking for her dusky plum eye shadow. Bollocks. I thought she’d already gone. I took the eye shadow from its hiding place in my pencil case and opened the door, saying, ‘Here, take it. I hope it chokes you.’
Chris said, ‘No thanks, Kelly Ann. It’s not really my colour.’
Was never so glad to see anyone. I knew Chris wouldn’t mind if I was lousy company. If I didn’t feel like talking, he’d just sit and mess about with the computer or PlayStation until I felt like saying something or joining in. He was the only person who could really deal with me in this kind of mood.
He came in, sat on the floor beside my bed and said, ‘Liz and Stephanie called me. Said you needed cheering up. Want to play Monopoly? I’ll even let you cheat tonight.’
Didn’t approve of this interference by my friends of course, and will have words with them tomorrow, but actually I was glad Chris had come as I was getting fed up being miserable on my own.