by Emlyn Hall
dashboard and windscreen. It was bright yellow vomit full of mussels and connective tissue that instantly stunk out the car with the smell of rotting fish and bile. The smell was so bad that my mum threw up instantly, filling the left-hand side of the dashboard with a more traditionally watery brown quantity of vomit. Naturally, I followed suit seconds later and covered myself in sick. Dad’s view out of the window was pretty much obscured by now, given the greasy mussel juice mosaic he had just created, and he was obviously still feeling quite queasy too. He decided that he would leave the A road we were on asap. I remember him even trying the windscreen wipers to try and clear the view! He threw up two more times before we got to a service station and literally sprinted as fast as he could to the toilets and avoided soiling his pants by milliseconds. The bowl of mussels were obviously not overly happy with the whole being eaten deal and were determined to break out of his body through every opening. It took Mum and Dad over an hour to clear the windscreen and dashboard and two more visits to the toilets before we could head back home.”
Dad’s story really did lift everyone’s mood and we all stood at the faded gravestone with big smiles on our faces (including my nan) for two minutes or so before heading back to the car and going home.
I listened to cemetery gates again this evening, still with a smile on my face from Dad’s story. It’s a sad state of affairs this death business, but it’s great to remember those who have passed in a positive way. Then again, we won’t always visit the grave. When we have all passed away, there will be nobody to visit him and that’s a sad thought. That will happen to all of us I guess, the only answer I suppose is to make the most of the time you have and pay no mind to it. After all, there is not a lot you can do about it.
I think a couple of episodes of Red Dwarf are in order to cheer me up.
Wednesday, March 8th
Finally my dad has actually consented to my going camping this Friday, which is a result, as I would have looked a complete plank pulling out now!
I checked on the kit when I got home from school today and it all seems pretty ship-shape to me, apart from the sleeping bag which I have given to Mum to dry clean for me. The weather forecast claims that it will be cold but dry, which is a bit of a result too. I am not too sure when my dad last used his tent. It was probably when he was the same age as I am now. We have never been camping together as a family. We either go to Malaga in the south of Spain, or nowhere. The only time we actually do go on holiday is when my dad receives a good bonus from work and there is nothing drastic that needs doing in the house. All in all I can really only recollect five holidays that we have been on.
In school I was called to my head of year’s office (Mrs Pearce) and given a bit of a telling off about my ‘public displays of affection’ with Sasha. I kind of agree with her in all honesty and agreed to calm things down a little. I explained the warning to Sasha, but she just said, “I guess we will just have to be a little more discreet. I will meet you behind the boiler room at lunchtime.” Dear diary, I cannot explain just what happened behind the boiler room at lunchtime, but let’s just say that Mrs Pearce certainly would not have approved.
I have spent my evening revising. I really seem to be getting on top of things at school at the moment and I am starting to even feel quite confident about the exams coming up in May and June. I have been thinking more seriously about going to sixth form in September; I just need to make a decision about what I am going to do. I am currently considering doing Chemistry and Biology, as I seem to be doing particularly well in these subjects. Definitely not Physics though, I find that bloody difficult. I enjoy Geography and I am getting a lot better at English too (although I am sure my writing in this diary leaves a lot to be desired! I certainly wouldn’t hand it into my English teacher for marking that’s for sure!).
As for a career, I still have no idea what I would like to do.
Thursday, March 9th
It’s a good job that Dad picked me up today as Todd and his gang of prepubescent toss bags were waiting at the school gates again, no doubt with the same intention of giving me a damn good kicking. They hurled the obvious abuse at Martin, Sasha and me, but this time my dad even managed to get a special mention. They had obviously ‘braved up’ a little since his well-made threats on Monday. However, my dad didn’t rise to it, just drove off ignoring the pack of twats.
Truth be told I am getting a little nervous about setting off on the camping trip tomorrow. What if those tossers are there when we try to make it to the station? Probably for the best if I arrange it with Dad to pick me, Sasha and Martin up at the gates and drop us at the station where we can wait for the others. Yes definitely a good idea.
I have spent the evening packing things ready for tomorrow.
Tent – check
Rucksack full of jeans, warm tops and my least threadbare boxer shorts – check
Camping stove with gas bottles – check
Freshly dry-cleaned sleeping bag – check
Toothbrush, toothpaste and shower gel – check
Cash – check
One packet of ribbed johnnies (for her pleasure) – check (the most important item)
Friday, March 10th
As soon at the bell went for the end of the day I was out of my chair and off like a rocket. I met Sasha and Martin at the gates and helped bundle their stuff into Dad’s waiting car. Mine was already in there from when I packed it the previous night. As we drove off and turned the corner out of the school drive Todd and his cling-ons were walking to their usual place to hang out, no doubt on the off chance of my being there alone to give me a damn good kicking. It was a relief that Dad picked us up, we would have definitely bumped into them if we had tried to make it on our own.
That said, this was my first time camping and I was very excited. My only nagging doubt was whether my dad’s ancient tent was still functional. Rain wasn’t forecast, but as anyone who lives on this fair island of ours knows – that can change in a millisecond. It would be a right pain in the arse if we got washed out on the first night and had to pack up and go home.
We jumped out of Dad’s car at the station and it was only then that the walk from Hassocks to Ditchling seemed very unlikely, I had packed far too much! We all agreed at that point that a little investment in a cab to the campsite would be very wise. My dad found just enough time to take me to one side and give me a final lecture about sensible drinking, safe sex and class A drugs before heading off home. I felt free, freer in fact than I have ever done before.
The others all arrived about 30 minutes later, minus Bobby. We waited another 10 minutes and then as it was cold decided to head across the road and have a coffee in the coffee shop. Another 30 minutes went by and still nothing. Martin tried calling him a couple of times on his mobile, but there was no answer. We discussed what to do and voted unanimously to just head off without him.
We arrived at Hassocks station just after 6:00pm and divided ourselves into three cabs, cheeky buggers would not take five in one and four in another, I’m sure they must be allowed to do that and it was just a scam to get more cash out of us. We stopped at an off-licence on the way and sent Jack in alone as he not only looked the oldest, but also had a great fake ID. Several large bags of alcoholic produce later we headed off again.
When we arrived at the campsite it was already getting quite dark and getting the tents pitched using the one torch Martin had thoughtfully brought along was a major pain in the arse. It took us the best part of two hours to construct a rather amateur set of tents and get the fire going, which was a relief as by the time we had finished pitching, the temperature had dropped right down to near freezing point.
Sitting around the campfire was amazing. We were all so cold that we all got into our sleeping bags and parked ourselves around the fire, only taking out our arms to take a drink of the rather dodgy concoction of drinks Jack had decided to buy. Martin took it upon himself to keep the fire burning bright deep into the early hours of the morning.
“A man called Peter Hayward was trekking along the South Downs from Eastbourne all the way to Winchester. He set off from Eastbourne in the morning and planned to reach a campsite just the other side of Worthing in the evening, completing the 80 mile trek the following day. All was fine as he set off, but it was February and the sun was hidden really well behind the dense black clouds that threatened to open up at any moment. The Downs’ path was completely empty, it wasn’t until he reached just south of Lewes that he came across another soul. The shape of a person came into view as he began the decent of a steep hill. The person appeared to be sitting. As he walked closer the shape began to focus. It was a man. It was a man in his mid-twenties. He was rocking with his hands crossed across his chest. He was only wearing a white T-shirt and light linen trousers.
As Peter drew closer he noticed that the man was staring straight at him, his head tilted back as he rocked with a weird and eerie smile spreading across his face. Peter’s heart rate went through the roof, this just felt wrong. Something felt very wrong.
As he drew level with the man
