The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13 3/4 (Adrian Mole 1)

by Sue Townsend

The row went on until the lousy Sugdens arrived. My Grandma and Grandad Sugden and Uncle Dennis and his wife Marcia and their son Maurice all look the same, as if they went to funerals every day of their lives. I can hardly believe that my mother is related to them. The Sugdens refused a drink and had a cup of tea whilst my mother defrosted the turkey in the bath. I helped my father carry Queenie (fifteen stone) and Bert (fourteen stone) out of our car. Queenie is one of those loud types of old ladies who dye their hair and try to look young. Bert is in love with her. He told me when I was helping him into the toilet.

  Grandma Mole and Auntie Susan came at twelve-thirty and pretended to like the Sugdens. Auntie Susan told some amusing stories about life in prison but nobody but me and my father and Bert and Queenie laughed.

  I went up to the bathroom and found my mother crying and running the turkey under the hot tap. She said, ‘The bloody thing won’t thaw out, Adrian. What am I going to do?’ I said, ‘Just bung it in the oven.’ So she did.

  We sat down to eat Christmas dinner four hours late. By then my father was too drunk to eat anything. The Sugdens enjoyed the Queen’s Speech but nothing else seemed to please them. Grandma Sugden gave me a book called Bible Stories for Boys. I could hardly tell her that I had lost my faith, so I said thank-you and wore a false smile for so long that it hurt.

  The Sugdens went to their camp beds at ten o’clock. Bert, Queenie and my mother and father played cards while I polished my bike. We all had a good time making jokes about the Sugdens. Then my father drove Bert and Queenie back to the home and I phoned Pandora up and told her that I loved her more than life itself.

  I am going round to her house tomorrow to give her the deodorant and escort her to the pantomime.

  SATURDAY DECEMBER 26TH

  Bank Holiday in UK and Rep. of Ireland (a day may be given in lieu). New Moon

  The Sugdens got up at 7 a.m. and sat around in their best clothes looking respectable. I went out on my bike. When I got back my mother was still in bed, and my father was arguing with Grandad Sugden about our dog’s behaviour, so I went for another ride.

  I called in on Grandma Mole, ate four mince pies, then rode back home. I got up to 30 mph on the dual carriageway, it was dead good. I put my new suede jacket and corduroy trousers on (courtesy of my father’s Barclaycard) and called for Pandora; she gave me a bottle of after-shave for my Christmas present. It was a proud moment, it signified the End of Childhood.

  We quite enjoyed the pantomime but it was rather childish for our taste. Bill Ash and Carole Hayman were good as Aladdin and the Princess, but the robbers played by Jeff Teare and Ian Giles were best. Sue Pomeroy gave a hilarious performance as Widow Twankey. In this she was greatly helped by her cow, played by Chris Martin and Lou Wakefield.

  SUNDAY DECEMBER 27TH

  First after Christmas

  The Sugdens have gone back to Norfolk, thank God!

  The house is back to its usual mess. My parents took a bottle of vodka and two glasses to bed with them last night. I haven’t seen them since.

  Went to Melton Mowbray on my bike, did it in five hours.

  MONDAY DECEMBER 28TH

  I am in trouble for leaving my bike outside last night. My parents are not speaking to me. I don’t care, I have just had a shave and I feel magic.

  TUESDAY DECEMBER 29TH

  My father is in a bad mood because there is only a bottle of V. P. sherry left to drink. He has gone round Pandora’s house to borrow a bottle of spirits.

  The dog has pulled the Christmas tree down and made all the pine needles stick in the shag-pile.

  I have finished all my Christmas books and the library is still shut. I am reduced to reading my father’s Reader‘s Digests and testing my word power.

  WEDNESDAY DECEMBER 30TH

  All the balloons have shrivelled up. They look like old women’s breasts shown on television documentaries about the Third World.

  THURSDAY DECEMBER 31ST

  The last day of the year! A lot has happened. I have fallen in love. Been a one-parent child. Gone Intellectual. And had two letters from the BBC. Not bad going for a 14¾-year-old!

  My mother and father have been to a New Year’s Eve dance at the Grand Hotel. My mother actually wore a dress! It is over a year since she showed her legs in public.

  Pandora and I saw the New Year in together, we had a dead passionate session accompanied by Andy Stewart and a bagpiper.

  My father came crashing through the front door at 1 a.m. carrying a lump of coal in his hand. Drunk as usual.

  My mother started going on about what a wonderful son I was and how much she loved me. It’s a pity she never says anything like that when she is sober.

  Winter

  FRIDAY JANUARY 1ST

  Bank Holiday in UK, Rep. of Ireland, USA and Canada

  These are my New Year’s resolutions:

  I will be true to Pandora.

  I will bring my bike in at night.

  I will not read unworthy books.

  I will study hard for my O levels, and get Grade ‘A’s.

  I will try to be more kind to the dog.

  I will try to find it in my heart to forgive Barry Kent his multiple sins.

  I will clean the bath after use.

  I will stop worrying about the size of my thing.

  I will do my back-stretching exercises every night without fail.

  I will learn a new word and use it every day.

  SATURDAY JANUARY 2ND

  Bank Holiday in Scotland (a day may be given in lieu)

  How interesting it is that Aabec should be an Australian bark used for making sweat.

  SUNDAY JANUARY 3RD

  Second after Christmas. Moon’s First Quarter

  I wouldn’t mind going to Africa and hunting an Aardvark.

  MONDAY JANUARY 4TH

  Whilst in Africa I would go south and look out for an Aardwolf.

  TUESDAY JANUARY 5TH

  And I would avoid tangling with an Aasvogel.

  WEDNESDAY JANUARY 6TH

  Epiphany

  I keep having nightmares about the bomb. I hope it isn’t dropped before I get my GCE results in August 1983. I wouldn’t like to die an unqualified virgin.

  THURSDAY JANUARY 7TH

  Nigel came round to look at my racing bike. He said that it was mass produced, unlike his bike that was ‘made by a craftsman in Nottingham’. I have gone off Nigel, and I have also gone off my bike a bit.

  FRIDAY JANUARY 8TH

  Got a wedding invitation from Bert and Queenie, they are getting married on January 16th at Pocklington Street Register Office.

  In my opinion it is a waste of time. Bert is nearly ninety and Queenie is nearly eighty. I will leave it until the last minute before I buy a wedding present.

  It has started snowing again. I asked my mother to buy me some green wellingtons like the Queen’s but she came back with dead common black ones. I only need them to walk Pandora to our gate. I am staying in until the snow melts. Unlike most youths of my age, I dislike frolicking in the snow.

  SATURDAY JANUARY 9TH

  Full Moon

  Nigel said the end of the world is coming tonight. He said the moon is having a total collapse. (Nigel should read Reader‘s Digest and increase his word power.) True enough it did go dark, I held my breath and feared the worst but then the moon recovered and life went on as usual, except in York where fate has flooded the town centre.

  SUNDAY JANUARY 10TH

  First after Epiphany

  I can’t understand why my father looks so old at forty-one compared to President Reagan at seventy. My father has got no work or worries yet he looks dead haggard. Poor President Reagan has to carry the world’s safety on his shoulders yet he is always smiling and looking cheerful. It doesn’t make sense.

  MONDAY JANUARY 11TH

  I’ve been looking through last year’s diary and have been reminded that Malcolm Muggeridge never did reply to my letter about what to do if you are an intellectual. That is a
first-class stamp wasted! I should have written to the British Museum, that’s where all the intellectuals hang out.

  TUESDAY JANUARY 12TH

  Pandora and I went to the youth club tonight. It was quite good. Rick Lemon led a discussion on sex. Nobody said anything, but he showed some interesting slides of wombs cut in half.

  WEDNESDAY JANUARY 13TH

  Pandora’s parents have had a massive row. They are sleeping in separate bedrooms. Pandora’s mother has joined the SDP and Pandora’s father is staying loyal to the Labour Party.

  Pandora is a Liberal, so she gets on all right with them both.

  THURSDAY JANUARY 14TH

  Pandora’s father has come out of the closet and admitted that he is a Bennite. Pandora is staying loyal to him, but if the Co-op Dairy find out he will be finished.

  FRIDAY JANUARY 15TH

  Thank God the snow is melting! At last I can walk the streets in safety, secure in the knowledge that no one is going to ram a snowball down the back of my anorak.

  SATURDAY JANUARY 16TH

  Moon’s Last Quarter

  Bert got married today.

  The Alderman Cooper Sunshine Home hired a coach and took the old ladies to form a guard of honour with their walking-frames.

  Bert looked dead good. He cashed his life insurance in and spent the money on a new suit. Queenie was wearing a hat made of flowers and fruit. She had a lot of orange make-up on her face to try and cover the wrinkles. Even Sabre had a red bow round his neck. I think it was kind of the RSPCA to let Sabre out for his master’s wedding. My father and Pandora’s father carried Bert’s wheelchair up the steps with Bert a single man and then down again with Bert a married man. The old ladies threw rice and confetti and my mother and Pandora’s mother gave Queenie a kiss and a lucky horseshoe.

  A newspaper reporter and photographer made everyone pose for photographs. I was asked my name, but I said I didn’t want publicity for my acts of charity to Bert.

  The reception took place back at the home. Matron made a cake with ‘B’ and ‘Q’ written in Jellytots.

  Bert and Queenie are moving into a bungalow on Monday, after they have had their honeymoon in the home.

  Honeymoon! Ha! Ha! Ha!

  SUNDAY JANUARY 17TH

  Second after Epiphany

  Last night I dreamed about a boy like me collecting pebbles in the rain. It was a dead strange dream.

  I am reading The Black Prince, by Iris Murdoch. I can only understand one word in ten. It is now my ambition to actually enjoy one of her books. Then I will know I am above the common herd.

  MONDAY JANUARY 18TH

  School. First day of term. Loads of GCE homework. I will never cope. I am an intellectual but at the same time I am not very clever.

  TUESDAY JANUARY 19TH

  Brought four hundred and eighty-three copies of The Voice of Youth home in my satchel and Adidas bag. Mr Jones needs the games cupboard.

  WEDNESDAY JANUARY 20TH

  Two-and-a-half hours of homework! I will crack under the strain.

  THURSDAY JANUARY 21ST

  My brain is hurting. I have just had two pages of Macbeth to translate into English.

  FRIDAY JANUARY 22ND

  I am destined to become a manual worker. I can’t keep working under this pressure. Miss Elf said my work is perfectly satisfactory, but that isn’t good enough when Pandora keeps getting ‘Excellent’ in red pen on everything she does.

  SATURDAY JANUARY 23RD

  Stayed in bed until five-thirty to make sure I missed Sainsbury’s. Listened to Radio Four play about domestic unhappiness. Phoned Pandora. Did Geography homework. Teased dog. Went to sleep. Woke up. Worried for ten minutes. Got up. Made cocoa.

  I am a nervous wreck.

  SUNDAY JANUARY 24TH

  Third after Epiphany

  My mother blames my bad nerves on Iris Murdoch. She says painful adolescence shouldn’t be read about when one is studying for O levels.

  MONDAY JANUARY 25TH

  New Moon

  Couldn’t do my Maths homework. Phoned the Samaritans. The nice man on the end of the phone told me the answer was nine-eighths. He was dead kind to someone in despair.

  TUESDAY JANUARY 26TH

  The stupid Samaritan got the answer wrong! It’s only seven-fifths. I only got six out of twenty. Pandora got them all right. In fact she got a hundred per cent.

  WEDNESDAY JANUARY 27TH

  My mother is holding her women’s rights meetings in our lounge. I can’t concentrate on my homework properly with women laughing and shouting and stamping up the stairs. They are not a bit ladylike.

  THURSDAY JANUARY 28TH

  Got fifteen out of twenty for History. Pandora got twenty-one out of twenty. She got an extra mark for knowing Hitler’s father’s name.

  FRIDAY JANUARY 29TH

  Came home from school early with a severe migraine (missed the Comparative Religion test). Found my father watching Play School and pretending to be an acorn growing into an oak.

  Went to bed too shocked to speak.

  SATURDAY JANUARY 30TH

  Migraine. Too ill to write.

  SUNDAY JANUARY 31ST

  Fourth after Epiphany

  Pandora came round. I copied her homework. Feel better.

  MONDAY FEBRUARY 1ST

  Moon’s First Quarter

  My mother has given my father an ultimatum: either he finds a job, or starts doing housework, or leaves.

  He is looking for a job.

  TUESDAY FEBRUARY 2ND

  Candlemas (Scottish Quarter-Day)

  Grandma Mole came to tell me that the end of the world was announced at her Spiritualist church last week. She said it should have all ended yesterday.

  She would have come round sooner only she was washing her curtains.

  WEDNESDAY FEBRUARY 3RD

  My father has had his credit cards taken off him! Barclays, Nat West and American Express have got fed up with his reckless spending. Time is running out for us. He has only got a few quid’s redundancy money left in his sock drawer.

  My mother is looking for a job.

  I have got a sense of déjà vu.

  THURSDAY FEBRUARY 4TH

  Went round to see Bert and Queenie. Their bungalow is so full of knick-knacks that there is hardly room for a person to move. Sabre knocks at least ten things over every time he wags his tail. They both seem happy enough, though their sex life can’t be up to much.

  FRIDAY FEBRUARY 5TH

  I’ve got to write an essay on the causes of the Second World War. What a waste of time! Everyone knows the causes. You can’t go anywhere without seeing Hitler’s photo.

  SATURDAY FEBRUARY 6TH

  Finished essay; copied it out of Pears Encyclopedia.

  My mother has gone to a women’s workshop on self-defence. So if my father moans at her for burning the toast she will be able to karate-chop him in the windpipe.

  SUNDAY FEBRUARY 7TH

  Septuagesima

  Bored stiff all day. My parents never do anything on Sundays but read the Sunday papers. Other families go out to safari parks, etc. But we never do.

  When I am a parent I will fill my children with stimulation at weekends.

  MONDAY FEBRUARY 8TH

  Full Moon

  My mother has found a job. She collects money from Space Invader machines. She started today in response to an urgent phone call from the job agency that she is registered with.

  She said that the fullest machines are those in unrespectable cafés and university common rooms.

  I think my mother is betraying her principles. She is pandering to an obsession of weak minds.

  TUESDAY FEBRUARY 9TH

  My mother has given up her job. She said she is sexually harassed during her work and she is also allergic to tenpence pieces.

  WEDNESDAY FEBRUARY 10TH

  My father is going to start his own business making spice-racks. He has spent the last of his redundancy money on buying pine and glue. Our spare bedr
oom has been turned into a workshop. Sawdust is all over the house.

  I am very proud of my father. He is now a company director, and I am a company director’s son!

  THURSDAY FEBRUARY 11TH

  Delivered Mrs Singh’s massive spice-rack after school. It took two of us to carry it round and install it on her kitchen wall. We had a cup of sickly Indian tea and Mrs Singh paid my father and then started to fill up her shelves with exotic Indian spices. They looked a lot more interesting than my mother’s boring parsley and thyme.

  My father bought a bottle of champagne to celebrate his first sale! He has got no respect for capital investment.