wednesday march 3rd

  9:00 a.m.

  Today is the day that Jas is to meet Robbie after school for a “coffee.” I wonder if Lindsay knows about this? I wonder if I have a duty to tell her?

  3:00 p.m.

  I can’t help myself—I have been trailing Jas around all day. I notice she has her very short skirt on and she’s done her hair. Perhaps I could leap on her as she comes out of the loo and duff her up, or I could pay Jackie and Alison to do it.

  3:15 p.m.

  Rosie, Ellen and Jools are not taking sides in this, which I hate . . . how dare they be so fair-minded? Rosie said, “He’s only asked her for a coffee to talk . . . you don’t know what about,” and Jools said, “It’s a free world, you know, you can’t make people do anything.”

  How dim and thick can you be? I’d stop speaking to them but then I wouldn’t have anyone to talk to at all.

  4:05 p.m.

  He’s there in his mini!! Where is Lindsay? Perhaps there will be a fight at the gates. There was a fight once before but that was Mr. Attwood and an ice-cream man. Elvis had gone to see him off. He went up to the van and said, “Clear off!” and the ice-cream man said, “Make me, short arse.”

  Elvis took off his glasses and his cap and said, “Come out of that van and I will.”

  So the ice-cream man did come out of his van and he was about twenty-five foot tall and Elvis said, “Right, well, I’ve told you. That’s my final word. . . . As soon as you have sold as many ice creams as you want, you must leave the school boundaries.”

  4:08 p.m.

  No sign of Lindsay. I said to Rosie and Jools and Ellen, “Where is Lindsay?” and Rosie said, “She’s playing badminton.” For heaven’s sake, she is so wet—some sniveling, scheming snot takes her fiancé/ boyfriend and all she can do is run around in sports knickers, hitting a Ping-Pong ball with some feathers stuck in it.

  4:10 p.m.

  Jas came out in boots. Suede boots, knee-length, with heels!! She’ll get offered money if she hangs around in the streets looking like that.

  4:12 p.m.

  She has reached the gates. Robbie has opened the door of his mini and gone round the other side and driven off.

  home

  4:38 p.m.

  I’m going mad. What are they doing now?

  5:00 p.m.

  Ring Rosie. “Have you heard anything?”

  Rosie: “No.”

  I said, “Well, call me if you do.”

  5:20 p.m.

  I’ve called everyone and nobody has heard anything yet. It’s like being in one of those crap plays we have to study. I’ll be left lonely and looking out to sea at the end . . . possibly with a beard.

  5:30 p.m.

  I’ve just found I’ve got hairs growing out of my armpits. How did they get there? They weren’t there yesterday.

  5:40 p.m.

  I’ve got some on my legs as well. I’d better distract myself by getting rid of them with Mum’s razor.

  6:00 p.m.

  Oh God! Oh God! I’m hemorrhaging. My legs are running with blood—I had to stanch the flow with Mum’s dressing gown. She’ll kill me if she finds out. I’d better wash it.

  6:10 p.m.

  Put it in the washing machine with some other stuff before she gets home.

  6:30 p.m

  Phone rings. It’s only Mum. She and Libby are round at Uncle Eddie’s and won’t be home until later and I’ve got to get my own tea. Quelle surprise!

  Go to the fridge.

  6:32 p.m.

  I wonder what I’ll have? Hmmm . . . oh, I know, I’ll have this moldy old tin of beans that is the only thing in there. . . .

  7:00 p.m.

  Phone rings.

  I fell over the cord getting to it, legs started bleeding again. It was Rosie. “Jas just phoned.”

  I almost screamed at her, “And???”

  “Well, they had coffee, she says he really is fantastic-looking and also very funny.”

  “And?”

  “Well, he wanted to talk to her about Tom.”

  I started laughing. “Hahahahahha. . . and she wore her boots. Hahaha.”

  Rosie went on, “Yes, he wanted to know if she still likes Tom because he still likes her.”

  I put the phone down. Tom. Who cares? Hahahaha.

  Life is fabby fab fab fabbity fab fab.

  7:30 p.m.

  La lalalalalalalala. Fabbity fab fab.

  7:40 p.m.

  Yum yum, beans. Lovely lovely beans.

  10:00 p.m.

  Oh dear, slight problem. Mum’s dressing gown has shrunk to the size of a doll’s dressing gown. It might fit Libby, I suppose.

  Hmmm.

  Still. Fabbity fab fab. I’ll think about it tomorrow. For now I must just dance about a bit to a loud tune.

  11:00 p.m.

  Heard Mum come in but I pretended I was asleep. I’ve hidden the dressing gown at the bottom of my wardrobe.

  thursday march 4th

  8:30 a.m.

  Jas was waiting for me at her gate. I saw her and started walking really slowly and pretending to be looking through my bag for something. Then I acted like I’d forgotten something and had to go home for it. I walked back and waited behind a hedge for about four minutes and then walked back again. Hurrah, she was gone, my plan worked. But just as I passed her gate, she popped up from behind her hedge. She walked alongside me and didn’t say anything and neither did I. It’s funny being silent—you have to be careful to not make any noise. You can’t belch or anything or even clear your throat in case the other person thinks you are going to speak first. When we got to school she handed me a letter. I wouldn’t take it at first but I quite wanted to read it so I did eventually put it in my bag.

  1:00 p.m.

  First opportunity I’ve had to read the letter because I didn’t want Jas to know that I was keen to read any stupid thing she had to say.

  The letter said:

  Dear Georgie,

  I am sorry that a boy has come between us, it will never happen again. I was stupid and didn’t think of your feelings even though you are my best friend, If there is anything I can do to be your friend again, I will do it.

  Jas

  P.S. He isn’t engaged to Lindsay.

  1:15 p.m.

  So Jas thinks she can just forget the whole sorry affair—drop it just like that. Well, it will take more than a note to make me change my mind about her.

  1:20 p.m.

  Jas found me by the vending machine and she was a bit nervous. Let her suffer.

  1:21 p.m.

  Jas went “Er . . .” and I said, “What do you mean he’s not engaged to Lindsay?”

  in my room

  5:00 p.m.

  Jas is helping me to stretch Mum’s dressing gown. As a punishment for her appalling behavior she has promised that she will say it was her who put it in the washing machine. My mum won’t get cross with Jas.

  5:15 p.m.

  The dressing gown is exactly the same doll size except that now it has very long arms like an orangutan’s.

  5:25 p.m.

  Apparently Robbie was very surprised that he was supposed to be engaged. When he asked Jas why she thought that, she had to pretend that someone had told her.

  5:30 p.m.

  Jas is plucking my eyebrows. She said, “So what do you think I should do about Tom? Robbie says he still likes me, and that the girl at the dance was his cousin.”

  I said, “Oh, does that mean he can’t get a girlfriend, then?”

  Jas said (midpluck), “Georgie, don’t start again. Do you think I should give him another chance?”

  I thought, What am I, an agony aunt? But I said, “Well, maybe, but I’d play a bit hard to get. Don’t kiss him on your first date . . . well, unless he really wants to.”

  midnight

  Got away surprisingly easily with the “It was Jas—I’m innocent!” plan re the dressing gown. Mum seems even more mad than ever. And how long can it take to decorat
e one room? Jem is taking forever. I’m not really surprised—he spends most of his time sitting around giggling with Mum. Libby called him “Dad” the other day.

  Ho hum.

  1:00 a.m.

  Looking up at the sky from my bed I can hear an owl hooting and all is well with the world. Robbie is not engaged!!! Thank you, Baby Jesus.

  tuesday march 16th

  3:00 p.m.

  Miss Stamp says I show “promise” at tennis. It is very nice slamming the ball across the court past people. Or not past them, in Rosie’s case, when it hit her in the face this afternoon. Her glasses went all sideways, which I thought was very funny. I couldn’t serve for ages because of laughing so much.

  10:45 p.m.

  Woke up from a dream of winning Wimbledon. I think I may be becoming sexually active, as the dream only really got interesting in the dressing room. First there was the usual stuff—you know, the final ace, the crowd going mad, going up for my trophy, Princess Margaret handing it over and saying, “Absolutely first-class, most thrilling. It made me wish I still played.”

  Me saying, “Hahaha, I find it hard to believe you’ve ever played anything, Ma’am—except gin rummy.” Then a quick wave and into the dressing room.

  Once in the privacy of the changing room I began to get undressed for a well-deserved shower. When I had got down to my (well-filled D-cup) bra and knickers I was startled to find someone had come in the room. It was Leonardo DiCaprio. He said, “I’m sorry, did I startle you?” Then he started covering my quivering (but extremely fit and tanned) body with kisses. Just then someone else came in. I pulled away from Leo but Leo said, “It’s OK, it’s only Brad,” and Brad Pitt came and joined us.

  monday march 22nd

  2:00 p.m.

  It’s almost embarrassing how friendly Jas is being. A few days without my hilarious and witty conversation has reminded her of how much she likes me. In a roundabout way I suggested this to her on the way to school.

  “Jas, I suppose a few days without my hilarious and witty conversation has reminded you of how much you like me.”

  She said, “Hahahaha . . .” but then saw my face and said, “Oh yes, how true.”

  wednesday march 31st

  assembly

  9:08 a.m.

  I nearly passed out with laughing this morning. As we were praying Rosie whispered, “Have a look at Jackie’s nose, pass it on . . .” so the word passed right along the line. I couldn’t see anything at first because Jackie had her head down and her hair was hanging over her face.

  Then, as people were shuffling around to start the hymn, I went, “Jackie! Pssstt!” She looked up and round at me. The end of her nose was completely black!!! She looked like a panda in a wig. I almost wet myself it was so funny. Our whole line was shaking.

  Jackie looked daggers at us but that only made it worse. There’s nothing funnier than a really cross panda!! We staggered into the loo and were bent over the sinks, crying with laughter. At last, when I could speak, I said, “What . . . what . . . happened?”

  Ellen said, “You know that DJ she was raving about? Well, he got drunk with his mates, came to meet Jackie and thought it would be very funny to give her a Iovebite on the end of her nose.”

  Happy days.

  april

  the snogging report

  tuesday april 6th

  5:00 p.m.

  Had a game of tennis against Lucy Doyle from the fifth form and I beat her!!! I am a genius!!!

  6:30 p.m.

  Practicing tennis against our wall at home but it’s hopeless. Angus gets the ball and then takes it a few feet away from me and guards it. I go to get it and he waits until I can nearly get it and then he walks off with it again. I managed to hit him on the head with my tennis racket but he doesn’t seem to feel pain.

  7:00 p.m.

  Phoned Jas.

  It’s quite relaxing not having Dad around. No one bellowing, “Get off that bloody phone!” I’m beginning not to remember what he looks like.

  So there’s a silver lining to every cloud.

  Jas’s mum answered the phone and I asked to speak to Jas. She came down from her bedroom.

  “Jas, I’ve got a good plan.”

  “Oh no.”

  “No, you’ll like it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s brilliant and also because it allows you to pay back your debt to me.”

  “Go on, then.”

  “Well, you know you said Robbie didn’t know he was engaged, but Lindsay goes round with an engagement ring on . . . ?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, if she only wears it at school and then takes it off when she sees him, well, that means that she likes him more than he likes her.”

  ‘‘I suppose.”

  “Of course it does. He must be getting tired of her by now—what on earth does he see in her?”

  “She’s supposed to be quite clever. I think she’s applying for Oxford.”

  “So she’s a swot, that’s no reason to like her—anyway, learning stuff is not clever. Just because I can’t remember the Plantagenet line doesn’t make me not clever.”

  “Well, no, I suppose.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You have quite a lot of trouble with quadratic equations as well.”

  “Yes, all right, Jas . . .”

  “And you can’t do the pluperfect tense . . .”

  “Yes, I know, but what I’m saying is . . .”

  “You’re hopeless at German—Herr Kamyer said he’s never known anyone so bad at it in all his years of teaching.”

  “Look, Jas, can we just get back to the plan? What I think we should do is to stalk Lindsay.”

  “Stalk her?”

  “Yes.”

  “What . . . follow her around and then phone her up and ask her what color panties she has got on?”

  “No, not that bit, just the bit where we keep her under observation.”

  “Why? What’s the point?”

  “The point is, I will then be able to tell whether Robbie likes her or not.”

  “Why do I have to be involved?”

  “Because a) you are my friend and b) it looks less suspicious because we’re always hanging around together and c) my mum is going away with Libby in a few weeks and you could come and stay the night and we could invite Tom.”

  “When do we start stalking?”

  That’s my girl.

  friday april 16th

  operation stalking lindsay begins friday night

  4:15 p.m.

  We had to hang around at the back of the science block after final bell. Old Swotty Knickers (Lindsay) was chatting to Hawkeye. We could see them laughing together—how sad—fancy having to laugh with a teacher! Then, while Lindsay got her coat, we crept along the narrow alleyway that runs between the science block and the main school building. It’s disgusting down there, full of fag ends from Jackie and Co. But if you follow it all the way along you end up a bit beyond the main gate. The tricky part is getting past Elvis’s hut. I’d already made myself public enemy number one with him by putting a plastic skeleton with his hat on—and a pipe in its mouth—in his chair in his hut. I don’t know how he knew it was me, but he did. Anyway, we got to Elvis’s hut and he wasn’t about so we shot across and into the last bit of the alleyway. We were wearing all black and had hats on—it was very French Resistance. We got to the end just as Lindsay (the stalkee) passed by. She looked at her watch and you could clearly see the flash of her ring.

  5:15 p.m.

  Outside Lindsay’s posh house, The Yews.

  The house is all on one level, which means that Lindsay’s bedroom would be on the ground floor, which means we might be able to see in through the window.

  Tee heee.

  First things first, though, time for a nourishing meal.

  6:30 p.m.

  Double chips and Coke. Yum yum.

  6:45 p.m.

  Stalkee spotted leaving the front room, did not reapp
ear. We suspect she has gone to her room to start the long, desperate job of making herself look OK to go out with Robbie.

  6:58 p.m.

  We decide to risk going round the back of the house. I whispered to Jas, “I hope they haven’t got a cat,” and she said, “Don’t you mean a dog?” and I said, “Have you met Angus?”

  There was a side path and we went really carefully down it. We had nearly reached the back garden when a head popped up from behind next door’s hedge. A really bald head, like Uncle Eddie’s. Quick as a flash, Jas said, “Sshhh, we’re giving Lindsay a big surprise. . . .” She winked at the man and he disappeared. We crept on round the back of the house. Lindsay’s bedroom faced onto the garden and she had her curtains half pulled back so you could see in.

  Her bedroom was a nightmare of frilly white things, frilly pillows, frilly bedspread . . . Teletubby hot-water bottle cover!!!

  Lindsay put on a tape and Jas and I looked at one another—it was Genesis. Jas mimed being sick. We had to keep bobbing our heads down if she turned directly to face the window. She disappeared off through another door and we could hear sort of gurgling noises. I said, “She’s got an en suite bathroom—that’s very bad feng shui.”