‘… then he ate my boy entrancers.’. Louise Rennison

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СКАЧАТЬ it is about two feet from Memphis.

      Still, there must be buses. Surely?

      4:30 p.m.

      On the way home I was singing “Home, home on the range, where the deer and the antelope play” to Jazzy. She loves a bit of a singsong.

      I said that. I said, “You love a bit of a singsong, don’t you, Jazzy?”

      “No.”

      “See, I knew you did. You do a little dance while I sing the chorus. You could do a dance based on a deer. Go on, do the little deer dance, make your feet like—”

      And that is when she kicked me. She can be very violent.

      She said, “I haven’t told him yet.”

      “What? Who?”

      “Hunk—er, I mean Tom, about Hamburger-a-gogo land.”

      I looked at her in amazednosity. Radio Jas, the voice of the nation, had not told Hunky something?

      She said, “I can be just as independent and adventurous as him.”

      I didn’t laugh, even though I have seen the amount of knickers that Jas thinks she will need for seven days.

      I MUST sort out my clothes this weekend.

      Le Weekend

      11:00 a.m.

      Now then, I am going to take a “capsule” wardrobe. It’s what Naomi Campbell and all the top models do. They just take the absolute essentials with them when they travel.

      12:00 p.m.

      I’m exhausted, but I have managed to whittle my capsule wardrobe down to six cases.

      12:01 p.m.

      And a rucksack.

      12:03 p.m.

      Apart from my shoes, which I can’t get in, but Mum will probably put them in her case.

      12:30 p.m.

      Nobody has yet told Libby that Angus and Gordy are not coming with us on our holidays.

      12:35 p.m.

      When someone does tell her, I’ll tell you one thing for free – it will not be me. I need all my limbs for my Luuurve Quest.

      12:40 p.m.

      Libby has made Gordy a paper bikini for his holidays, which might come in handy if he were coming on holiday.

      And cats wore bikinis.

      And if he hadn’t immediately destroyed it and then buried it in the rubber plant.

      Sunday May 15th

      Seven days to Hamburger-a-gogo land Midday

      I hate my dad. He is so unreasonable. It’s like dealing with a spoiled child.

      I asked Mum if she would be so kind as to slip my shoes in her case, and all hell broke loose.

      Dad said, “Why don’t you put them in your case?”

      And I said, “Because, Father, all of my cases are full.”

      Vati came stropping into my bedroom, saw my cases, and said, “Don’t be ridiculous! You can take one case. That is it.”

      I said, “Excuse me if I’m right, Dad, but do you want me to look like a poor person in front of the Hamburgese? I am representing the English nation abroad.”

      But you might as well be talking to yourself.

      2:00 p.m.

      I’ve repacked, but there are still three cases of essentials. Sacré bloody bleu.

      Jas phoned to tell me that she told Hunky about her trip and he has had the boy version of a nervy spaz. He phoned her eighteen times in two hours.

      “He was so upset.”

      “Yes, you said.”

      “Really really upset. He phoned me eighteen times in two hours.”

      “Er…I know.”

      “Eighteen times.”

      “Wow…How many times did you say he phoned?”

      I said it ironically, but Jas didn’t get it. She just went on and on. “Eighteen times, and then he came round this morning really early and posted a love-poem-song-type thing through my door.”

      Oh no. Not a love poem.

      “Do you want to hear it?”

      “No.”

      “It’s called, ‘You are the only fish in my sea’.

      Good Lord. Tom’s whole family is obsessed with livestock.

      To cheer her up and to get me out of my packing nightmare scenario I called a gang meeting.

      The park, sitting on the swings 4:30 p.m.

      Jas has read her poem to everyone, so I hope she’s got it out of her system now. It is truly crap. That is a fact. But I didn’t say so; I wanted Jas to perk up for our big adventure. I was soooo excited, and I was standing up swinging on a swing, singing “I want to be in America! Everything’s free in America!!!”

      Then Ellen said, “Georgia, have you actually snogged Masimo yet?”

      I laughed in a sultry way. “Have I snogged Masimo? Have I—”

      Jas said, “No, she hasn’t. Well, not unless you count two seconds, which I don’t, and anyway it’s not on the snogging scale, so it’s not…on the…snogging scale.”

      Oh, thanks, bestest pally NOT. I wish I had told her what I thought about Fish Boy’s poem now.

      Jools said, “Do you think Wet Lindsay has snogged him? You know, when they went to Late and Live. She must have, you know…wanted to.”

      Ohhhnooo. Get out of my head.

      I said, “Who in their right mind would snog Wet Lindsay?”

      Jools СКАЧАТЬ