‘… and that’s when it fell off in my hand.’. Louise Rennison

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      I said, “Did anyone notice that my light was off and that I was asleep? Did anyone get that?”

      But they just went on chattering and giggling, and Vati was playing tickly bears with Libby and Mutti.

      Please save me.

       Thursday March 10th Maths

      I am going to have to kill Rosie – she is soo overexcited about the return of Sven. Every time Miss Stamp turns round she does mad disco dancing. Miss Stamp turned round a bit sharpish and caught Rosie nodding her head like a loon. She said, “Rosemary Mees, what are you doing?”

      Rosie said, “I was agreeing with your excellent point on the roundness of circles.”

      She got a bad conduct mark for cheek, but she is still as mad as a hen.

      She sent me a note: What swings round and round a cathedral wrapped in cellophane?

      I tried to ignore her but she kept looking and raising her eyebrows until I thought she would have a nervy spaz. So I mouthed back, “What?” and she sent another note:The lunchpack of Notre Dame.

      Dear God, am I never to be free?

       English

      Oh rave on, rave on. Not content with boring us to death with MacUseless, we are also doing two more books. Wuthering Heights, or Blithering Heights, as we call it, and Samuel Pepys’ Diary, about this horrifically boring bloke called Samuel Pepys. He quite literally, from what I can gather, peeps about. He just looks up ladies’ skirts most of the time and says “prithee”. Still, we all have to accept he is a genius. On the plus side, the dirty bits will make Miss Wilson go completely spazoid.

       4:30 p.m.

      Walking home with Jas and Rosie when we saw Dave the Laugh and Rollo and Tom. Jas went ludicrously girlish, even though she has been seeing Hunky for about a zillion years. I should know – I am like that bloke, Pepys’s mate… Boswell, who had to write down all the boring stuff that Pepys did because he was his secretary or something.

      I could write a diary about Jas: “Prithee it bee Thursdayee and Missee Jas gotte uppee this morning and puttee on her pantee forsooth and lack a day, her bottom I declareth groweth by the minutee.”

      I had a bit of a nervy spaz when I saw Dave. He was all cool. Rats. He said, “Easy girls, don’t be selfish, there’s more than enough of me to go round.”

      I gave him my glacial look but he just winked at me. I couldn’t smile even if I wanted to because I had got so much lurker eradicator (cover-up) on that I couldn’t move my face.

      Rosie said, “Are you coming to Sven’s teenage werewolf party on Saturday? There will be snacks.”

      Rollo said, “It’s not fish fingers, is it?”

      Rosie looked pityingly at him. “Rollo, keep up, this is a teenage werewolf party.”

      Dave the Laugh said, “Babies’ tiny heads then, is it?”

      Rosie said, “Now you are ignoring the sophisticosity of the occasion. It is of course sausages with lashings of tomato ketchup.”

      Dave said, “Of course it is. See you later, chicklets. And Georgia, it is useless trying to ignore me – it just gives me the Mega Horn.”

      And he and the lads went off whistling the theme from The Italian Job.

       4:45 p.m.

      How annoying is that?

      I could kill him.

      He completely ignored my glaciosity.

      Rosie and Jas were looking at me in a looking-at-me sort of way. Which I hate. Tom walked along with us. Jas was wittering on to him and holding his hand.

      “I’ve found this stuff in the library about different kinds of fungi you can eat. You know, for our wilderness thing. Well, if we got lost away from the others in the group we could eat it and not starve.”

      I said, “Forgive me if I’m right, but are you talking about mushrooms?”

      Jas got all huffy. “Well. All YOU are interested in is Dave the Laugh.”

      I tried to look as bewildered as a bee who finds itself in an egg-cup hat.

      “I am not at all interested in Dave the Stupid Laugh – it’s just that I am even less interested in grey shapeless things that lurk about the woods.”

      They were all looking at me still.

      I tried again. “Oh come on, get real… Dave the Laugh, I – me – I mean…”

      Tom said, “So you do like him then?”

      Jas said meaningfully, “Yes, well, SOME people know SOMETHING about SOMETHING.”

      Oh good point, well made. Not.

      I wanted to kill her and make her eat her fringe. And her knickers.

      Rosie, who had been practising being blind and using me as her guide dog, said, “I’ve got an uncle in Yorkshire who eats cow udder as a treat.”

      That can’t be true.

      Can it?

       5:00 p.m.

      Walking home all alone.

      I let myself in when I got to our house.

      I opened the door and yelled out, “Hello Georgia darling, take your coat off and come and warm yourself by this blazing fire! I’ve made a nourishing stew for you, and when your father comes home from being really masculine and rich we can talk about the four hundred pounds a week you need for a decent pad in London.” As if.

       6:00 p.m.

      Mum is out tossing herself around a room full of red-faced loons in leotards. Again. Who knows where Dad is. Out in his clown car causing havoc.

      Brrr, it is so nippy noodles and dark.

      Got into bed it was so chilly bananas.

      Oh I am so cold and bored.

       7:00 p.m.

      Phone rang. It was Ellen.

      “I heard you saw Dave on the way home and he’s definitely coming on Saturday because he said he was and that means he is. СКАЧАТЬ