Are These My Basoomas I See Before Me?

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Are These My Basoomas I See Before Me? Page 13

by Louise Rennison


  bobo time

  Libbs is still at Grandvati’s, so I am going to go to my room and enjoy my bed. Just the luxury of lying on it, without something hideous sticking in my back. Or Libby farting loudly all night.

  Anyway, I’ve got to get myself in the right frame of mind to welcome back my Luuurve God.

  I wonder what time he will be back?

  He’ll probably call me tomorrow.

  I’d better check on my loveliness.

  Maybe I should have an overnight egg-yolk face pack?

  two minutes later

  No, maybe not. The last time I did I thought that my face had gone paralyzed in the night.

  Anyway, according to Dave the Laugh, I am beauty personified just as I am.

  Which is handy.

  I wonder why he said that to me?

  The most beautiful girl thing.

  Was it a joke?

  Why weren’t we laughing?

  Anyway, shut up, brain.

  I said, “Good night, Mater and Pater. Please keep the noise down.”

  Dad said, “Oh, by the way, that Italian boy phoned. Masimo, is it? He says to tell you that he is back and he will see you tomorrow. And to think of him and put your hand on your locket. I told him that was going too far.”

  I said, “Dad, I hate you.”

  in my room

  midnight

  Masimo is back.

  That’s fab, isn’t it?

  I thought Dave might have rung. You know, just for a matey chat. But he didn’t. I expect Emma is back and he’ll be, you know, seeing her. Or something. Which is fine by me.

  monday october 3rd

  Miss Wilson brought in the puppet dog for Jas. It is hilariously crap. And it is a glove puppet. It doesn’t even look like a dog. I think it is a bear. Jas was supposed to work her own dog. She got into a terrible state in the balcony scene.

  Miss Wilson suggested that the puppet dog “senses” that Rom is down below in the garden. She said to Jas, “When you, Juliet, say, ‘Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo,’ the little faithful dog could bark…”

  I said, “Erm, just as a matter of interest, Miss Wilson…wherefore art Romeo?”

  Miss Wilson said, “Yes, well…”

  I said, “Couldn’t the dog double up as Romeo? I think that would be great. Try it, Jas. Get the doggy to say some of Rom’s bits.”

  Jas was getting vair vair red indeedy. She was revving up the huffmobile, big time.

  She said to me, “Georgia, shut up about Romeo being the doggy.”

  I said to her, “I am only trying to help things go with a swing, aren’t I?”

  two minutes later

  Miss Wilson announced the new Rom.

  And the surprise news is that it’s going to be…Melanie Griffiths.

  She’s a nice girl, Melanie, but she really has got ginormous basoomas.

  I said to Rosie, “I don’t fancy her chances of climbing up the balcony and not toppling over.”

  Possibly taking out several villagers on her way down.

  But it’s not really my prob, as I am dead by about page six.

  Frankly, it’s not really worth putting the tights on for.

  ten minutes later

  Jas was on the edge of a nervy b. trying to do the barking and tail-waggling thing for the doggy and being Juliet as well.

  In the end, she threw the glove puppet to the floor and burst into tears.

  ten minutes later

  It’s a dream come true for Nauseating P. Green because she is doubling up as townspeople and doggy. As I say, it’s a dream come true for her, but not for anyone else. It’s very hard to concentrate on her dog work, as immediately behind the dog is her not unlarge loomy face with huge glasses on it.

  Miss Wilson looked a bit worried when Nauseating P. Green suggested an improvised “fetch the stick” moment.

  I said to the gang, “Pamela will be doing method acting. She will almost certainly be sleeping in a dog basket tonight.”

  Jas is not amused of course.

  Rom and Jul, otherwise known as Mrs. Grumpy Knickers and Melanie, didn’t do the kissy kissy bit. Actually, costumewise, there really is going to have to be quite a bit of strapping down. Otherwise Rom won’t be able to get near enough to Jul to snog her.

  twelve minutes later

  At last we got to the good bit. My fighting bit.

  Miss Wilson said, “I was chatting with, erm, Herr Kamyer…”

  We all went, “Oh, yes…” And winking and so on. Miss Wilson bobbed madly about.

  “Yes, and by a stroke of good fortune, Herr Kamyer did épée as a young man. Competitively.”

  Rosie said, “Miss Wilson, why are you telling us about Herr Kamyer going to the piddly-diddly department?”

  Miss Wilson looked completely baffled (no change there then). She said, “I don’t understand….”

  Rosie said, “You said Herr Kamyer did a pee as a young man. Competitively.”

  Miss Wilson started giggling like a goose.

  “Oh, oh, I see…no, no, I said ÉPÉE…it’s a form of sword fighting.”

  Good Lord.

  So Herr Kamyer is going to teach us to sword fight.

  We may as well book the hospital now.

  ten minutes later

  Hurrrahhhhhhh! God Bless King Harry and gadzooks, etc.

  Jas has perked up again now she doesn’t have to do any barking.

  Or have Wet Lindsay as her boyfriend.

  Maybe everything is going to be OK.

  We’ve got the lads coming in for the first tech run-through this week.

  Wait till Dave the Laugh hears that Melanie Griffiths is going to be Rom.

  lunchtime

  Lolling about in the fives court.

  Wet Lindsay and ADM came lurking over just looking at us. What are they looking at?

  Octopussy called over to Jas, “Sorry about the play, Jas, but I’ve just got so much to do, the university thing and now the band going off to live in London.”

  What? What did she know about the band?

  Then she went on talking to ADM. But loud enough for us to hear every word.

  She said, “Robbie was so pleased to see me when I popped round last night. It’s like he’d been away for months. And he is so cool at snogging. I had a boyfriend before him who was so inexperienced he didn’t even know where to put his hands.”

  I said to Rosie, “I could have told him where to put his hands—round her throat until her goggly eyes popped out. Hell’s teeth, she is such a smug bucket.”

  Jools said, “Did you know they were moving to London?”

  No, I didn’t, is the answer.

  Wet Lindsay was still going on. I’m sure for my benefit.

  “Yeah, I could go to uni in London of course. I haven’t applied anywhere there but, you know, I could. I think it would break Robbie’s heart if I didn’t go. I can tell he daren’t ask me to go with him, just in case I say no.”

  Oh whatever!!

  As a bit of light relief the two Little Titches came skipping up. All titchy and excited. Ginger Titch said, “Miss, miss, we’ve got something to tell you. It’s a secret.”

  I said, “Your library book’s not a day overdue, is it?”

  They shook their little heads. Then they did sort of “looking” at Wet Lindsay.

  Then they did sort of “looking” to the science block. Ginger Titch said really quietly, “Follow us in a minute.”

  Then they did ludicrous waving and saying good-bye to me.

  I wondered if they had been having Mad Miriam for theater studies.

  one minute later

  I scooted over to the science block. Wet Lindsay had seen me go, but she was too busy talking about her own no forehead or something to ADM.

  The Titches nearly gave me a heart attack by leaping out from a rhododendron bush.

  “Miss, quick, he’s here. He wants you to go and see him. He’s down at the back of school, by the lower playing-field fenc
e.”

  My heart skipped. Blimey, this was a bit thrilling. I could tell him about Melanie Griffiths and…

  That’s when I realized I’d been thinking the Titches meant Dave the Laugh, but they meant the Luuurve God.

  I did quick pouch work and hair bounceability and sloped off down the fields.

  The afternoon sun glanced off the trees and their autumny leaves and then I saw him.

  He smiled that wonderful smile of his. God, he’s good-looking. He actually looks like a popstar.

  He shouted, “Cara, I came round ’ere to the back, for not getting trouble. I had to see you. I rang you.”

  Have you ever kissed someone through a fence? I don’t as such recommend it.

  In fact, I think I may have slight fence burn on my mouth.

  Which is unusual.

  When I got back, the gang were agog (two gogs).

  Rosie said, “So, what did he say?”

  Ellen dithered into life. “Is he, will he, is he, are they???”

  Jools said, “Go on, tell us everything.”

  I said, “Well, I dunno really. The Stiff Dylans have got a major management company now, but they have to be, you know, where it’s all happening.”

  Ellen said, “Where, I mean is it…is it happening…here?”

  I said, “Not as such.”

  Jas said, “So is it true, they are moving to London?”

  I said, “That is the nub and gist.”

  Jas came and put her arm around me in a sudden lezzie attack. She said, “I know just how you are feeling. The Tom thing has made me know the meaning of heartbreak.”

  “Er, Jas, he’s only going to pop over to Hamburger-a-gogo land for a week and a half. Masimo is moving to the throbbing metropolis.”

  Rosie said, “Oo-er.”

  The bell went for double physics. At least I can take my mind off things by amusing myself with Herr Kamyer.

  Masimo wants to take me out to talk everything over tonight.

  What is there to talk over, though?

  He has been asked to go to London for his career.

  He’s not going to not go, is he?

  I am on the rack of luuurve again.

  Marvelous.

  double physics (also known as multiple comedy)

  Two hours of unadulterated boredom and merde. If we weigh atoms or whatever, I may eat my own head. Just to stop me being so bored.

  Oh good, we are doing about “light.”

  There is something so keen about Herr Kamyer. Why? Has he just got the keenness gene? Mostly I think teachers come and teach because they hate us and want to make us suffer. But Herr Kamyer likes us. He does. If I had a conscience…well, I’d…well, I don’t know what I would do. But thankfully I haven’t.

  To illustrate the difference between light and dark, Herr Kamyer had drawn the curtains and switched the lights off. Which was crap because it was still light outside and the curtains were see-through.

  I said, “Herr Kamyer, we don’t really experience dark anymore, do we?”

  He looked at me through his roundey glasses.

  “Ach zo, Georgia, how do you mean zis?”

  “Well…because of the lights in cities and you know global thingy and everything.”

  He said, “Global thingy?”

  I said, “Ja, ja, zat is what I mean. We don’t know what it is like to be in the dark.”

  He looked at me. “Ja, that is a gut point. No-vhere is completely dark.”

  I said, “Except for the photography darkroom. Let’s go in there and see what it is like to be completely in the dark.”

  Herr Kamyer said, “Vell, I don’t know if…”

  I got to my feet.

  “Ja, ja, to the darkroom.”

  The ace gang surged out, followed by the rest of the class.

  The darkroom is quite small and you could probably get about five people in comfortably. When we opened the door, it was quite literally pitch-black in there. Herr Kamyer stepped in and said, “Ja, now zen, girls, if we go in maybe five at a time, we…”

  At which point, all twenty-five of us crammed into the room and I slammed the door.

  It was hysterical. I could hear Herr Kamyer, but I couldn’t see a thing. It was just jam-packed in.

  And we were all shrieking and yelling, “Where am I?”

  Herr Kamyer was shouting, “Now, vhere is der door, girls? Calm down.”

  Then there was the crash of some glass thing.

  And the shrieking started again.

  Rosie was shouting, “We’re doomed, we’re doomed!!!!!”

  “Is that the doorknob…oo-er.”

  Etc., etc.

  After a few minutes of this, someone found the door handle and we piled out. Herr Kamyer came out last. His hair was all mussed up and his glasses were on sideways.

  I couldn’t stop laughing.

  I said to him, “Now that is what I call dark.”

  5:00 p.m.

  As I walked up our driveway, the mirthmobile was parked by the garage. Looking out of the back window was Bum-ty in his cage.

  He is still up his ladder even though the cats are not around him. Mum must have left him in the car to give him a staring-free holiday.

  in my room

  Masimo is coming at seven p.m. I said I would meet him in town, but he insisted on picking me up. I am going to make sure I am waiting by the gate to avoid any chance of Dad “talking” to him.

  I’m a nervy wreck.

  I’ve already changed my clothes four times. I have to get out of my bedroom before I go mad.

  in the kitchen

  Mum was doing her nails.

  I could see Libby through the back window. She has got the washing-up bowl on the grass and is surrounded by Pantalitzer doll, Mr. Fish and all her toys. She must be giving them a bath. She’s obsessed with baths.

  I said to Mum, “If someone really liked someone and had the chance to go off with them to somewhere really exciting, should they go?”

  She looked at me.

  “Someone really likes someone and wants to go off with them to somewhere really exciting.”

  Yes, yes, what is this? Simpletons’ hour?

  She was still rambling on, though.

  “And does this someone have any money to go off somewhere really exciting?”

  “Not as such.”

  “Well, you can’t go then, can you?”

  Oh, she is so annoying. And unreasonable.

  half an hour later

  I didn’t mean to, but I have accidentally told Mum the whole story.

  She was sort of not too bad about it.

  In a bad way.

  She said that she thought fifteen was too young to make a big commitment, away from home and away from your family and mates.

  I said, “Well, I agree with the mates thing, but the family…”

  She said, “And also, what will you be living on? Will your Luuurve God pay all the bills while you…erm…what is it you do, exactly?”

  I hate her and wish I hadn’t told her anything.

  I could just go.

  She can’t stop me.

  What do the girlfriends of popstars do actually?

  I would miss the gang. Leaving all my pally wallys…

  Phoned Jas.

  “Jazzy, I’m sorry that I ever dissed your owls. And also your fire-making stick thing. It is, well, good.”

  Jas said, “What is this all about? I’m not going to get into any trouble, am I? You haven’t got some new mad idea about papier-mâché heads, have you?”

  Oh, she is so full of suspicionosity.

  I said, “No, it’s just that I am on the horns of a dilemma vis-à-vis Masimo and I know I wasn’t vair nice to you about Hunky going to Hamburger-a-gogo land.”

  Jas said, “Well, I know you didn’t mean to be nice, but in fact you have been accidentally nice on purpose. I have told Tom that I want him to be happy and if he wants to go to college there, he should fly free and then we’ll see
what happens next. And he’s going to go.”

  “Jas, did you really set him free like a rubber band? Wow. And also wowzee wow wow.”

  Jas said, “I’m a bit freaky-deaky about it, but you can’t stop people doing what they want. And, anyway, I might go to York and see what it’s like there. Apparently, they have a very active wildlife center.”

  I said, “Steady on, Jas, are you hearing the call of the owl?”

  Crikey. I think committing suicide onstage is bringing out the best in Jazzy.

  I may spontaneously buy her midget gems tomorrow.

  7:00 p.m.

  Sitting on the gate waiting for the Luuurve God.

  Oscar just came blundering up and said to me, and I quote, “Your legs must be tired because you’ve been running through my mind all night. Check it.”

  Dear Gott in Himmel.

  I didn’t say anything.

  There is nothing to say.

  It was getting a bit dark and nippy noodles. I’d compromised bike-wearwise by wearing a short skirt, but with thick tights and tall boots. So hopefully, there would be no “gusset incident.” Masimo zoomed round the corner into my street. He had a leather flying jacket on. Which was vair cool.

  He killed the engine on his bike and slowly took off his helmet. Then just sat on his seat looking at me. Sort of in an admiring way. Looking me up and down. Oh, good, my legs had gone all jelloid. I was going to fall off the wall and reveal my gusset before I even got on the bike.

  I heard Oscar say, “Tosser.”

  And not in an ironic way seeing as it was coming from an absolute spoon.

  Masimo just half turned in his seat and looked at Oscar. He said, “Ay, you, monkey boy, vamoose.”

  And Oscar spat on the ground. (Why? Did he think Masimo was frightened of spit?) And then shuffled off, like he had meant to go, anyway.

  By the time Masimo got off his bike and came over to me, I had managed to gain some control of my legs.

  Also I had remembered to wear my locket round my neck.

  Which was a lucky break because it was the first thing he kissed.

  Er…was that odd?

  Shut up, brain. Dave the Laugh has deffo started camping in my brain, twittering on about stuff. That is the problem with seeing too much of him. He gets in there with his annoying jokes. Although the boy’s penid on the school playing field is—it has to be said—comedy gold.

  I only wish I could tell the Luuurve God about it…but I can’t.

 

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