The Complete Fab Confessions of Georgia Nicolson: Books 1-10. Louise Rennison

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ ruffles my hair. I am fifteen years old. Full of maturiosity. And snoggosity. I would ruffle HIS hair to show him how crap it is. But he hasn’t got any.

      Thursday November 4th

      Operation Glove Animal

      8:30 a.m.

      This is GA Day. (Glove Animal Day.) Everyone is going to turn up with ears in place today. Jas was grumbling and groaning about getting a reprimand. I said, “Jas, please put your ears on as a smack in the gob often offends.”

      Even she got into the swing of it once her ears were in place. It was, it has to be said, quite funny. Jas looked hilarious bobbing along with her glove ears. She even did a bit of improvising with her teeth, making them stick out and doing nibbly movements with them like a squirrel. We did a detour through the back alleyway near the Science block. Elvis was in his hut reading his newspaper. We just stood there in our glove animal way, looking in at him through the window. He sensed we were there and looked up. We stared back at him. His glasses were a bit steamed up so maybe he really thought we were some woodland creatures. Woodland creatures who had decided to go to school and get ourselves out of our woodland poverty trap … But then he started shouting and raving on, “Clear off and learn something instead of messing about. And make yourselves look normal!!!”

      Oh wise advice from the looniest-looking person in the universe.

      Unfortunately Hawkeye spotted us before we could scuttle into the cloakroom. She went ballistic, unusually enough. I tried to explain that it was a useful way not to lose your gloves but I only got as far as “It’s a really sensible way of …” before she had snatched them off my head. She has very little sense of humour.

      However the last laugh was on her because she was so busy telling me and Jas that we were ridiculously childish and ripping our ears off that she didn’t see the rest of the Ace Gang bob into school. It was very very funny indeed seeing them bob through the gates and across the playground as if they were perfectly normal glove animals.

       7:00 p.m.

      No call from the SG.

      Mrs Across the Road came over. Mutti had gone to her aerobics class. Surely it can’t be healthy for a woman of her size to hurl herself around a crowded room?

      Mrs Across the Road or “Call me Helen” is OK but a bit on the nimby girlie side. If you hit her with a hockey stick she would probably fall over. She’s fluffy and blonde (not natural, I think).

      Vati was acting very peculiarly. He was being almost nice. And laughing a lot. And he got out of his chair. Hmmm.

      After she’d gone he must have said at least two hundred and fifty times, “She seems very nice, doesn’t she? Helen? Very … you know … feminine.”

      Oh no.

      Also he said that they are going to get a pedigree sort of boyfriend for Naomi. I said, “She won’t go out with anyone else. She loves Angus.”

      Dad laughed. “You wait, there will be little Naomis running about the place before you can blink. Women are very fickle.”

      Hmmmm.

       9:10 p.m.

      Pre-gig nervosity. Not helped by the fact that when I went down on to the field to take Angus for his “constitutional” Mark Big Gob threw a jumping-jack at me. I wonder if he is quite normal in the brain department …

      Oh God, it’s Bonfire Night tomorrow, an excuse for all the sad boys in the world to set fire to themselves with fireworks whilst showing off to their mates.

       9:30 p.m.

      Mum came in, flushed as a loon. I said, “You are looking particularly feminine, Mum.” But Vati didn’t get it.

      In my room

      9:50 p.m.

      Vati knocked on my door!!! I said, “I’m sorry, but sadly I’m not in.”

      He ignored that, came in and sat on the edge of my bed.

      Oh God, he wasn’t going to ask me if I was happy, was he. Or tell me about his “feelings”?

      He was all embarrassed. “Look, Georgia, I know how you feel about Angus …”

      “Yes … and?”

      “It’s just not fair on him being all cooped up in the house.”

      “Well that is not my idea.”

      “I know, but he won’t leave that bloody Burmese alone.”

      “He loves her and wants to share his life and dreams with her, maybe buy a little holiday home in Spain for those cold …”

      “He’s a bloody cat!!!”

       10:00 p.m.

      Dad is going to take Angus to the vet tomorrow to have his trouser snake addendums taken away. He said, “I know you will think about this and be grown up about it.”

      I said, “Dad, as I have mentioned before, if you do this to Angus you are no longer my vati. You are an ex-vati.”

      I mean it.

       10:10 p.m.

      Phone rang. Vati answered it, still all grumpy.

      I was in my room, shaping the cuticles in my nails for Saturday.

      If I don’t start my beauty routine now I’ll never be ready in time.

      I heard Dad say, “I’ll see if she’s still up, it’s a bit late to call … Who shall I say it is?”

      By that time I had thrown myself down the stairs and ripped the phone out of his hand. How could he be so deeply uncool?

      I calmed my voice and said “Hello” in a sort of husky way. I don’t know why but at least I wasn’t assuming a French accent.

      It was the Sex God!!! Yeahhh!!! I got jelloid knickers as soon as I heard his voice. It’s so yummy scrumboes …

      He said, “Is that your dad?”

      I said, “No, it’s just some madman who hangs around our house.”

      Anyway, the short and long of it is that he’ll see me Saturday at the gig. He’s rehearsing so can’t see me before. C’est la vie, I think you will find, when you go out with le gorgeous popstar.

      Friday СКАЧАТЬ