Planet Janet

by Dyan Sheldon

  I must’ve caught her on one of her UP swings, because the Mad Cow was excruciatingly sympathetic about my mugging. She wanted to take me for an X-ray. And she wasn’t even angry about me losing my phone. She just kept saying, “You poor thing… Are you sure you’re all right?” over and over. Nan tried to cheer me up by reminding me that God Works in Mysterious Ways. Justin, of course, was his usual insensitive, uncaring self. He said I was the only person he knew who’d fallen off a bike without ever getting on it. I said at least I hadn’t ridden in front of a police car. I wasn’t as stupid as that.

  Justin had three phone calls tonight – and they were ALL FROM HER!!! The Mad Cow answered the first time, I answered the second, and Nan answered the third. Nan has no shame, so she asked her what her name is. You won’t believe this!!! It’s Bethsheba!!! I knew she couldn’t be NORMAL and interested in the Bandrys’ other child. I usually spend some time before I fall asleep imagining all the brilliant things that are going to happen to me once I’ve left secondary school, but last night I spent it wondering what Bethsheba could possibly see in my brother. I know girls are different to boys. Boys see a short skirt and a big pair of tits and they go into meltdown. (I think it has something to do with male hormones but Sappho says it’s because men can see better than they can think.) Girls, however, are attracted by other things, like intelligence, talent, character and personality. But Justin doesn’t possess intelligence, talent, character or personality any more than he possesses looks, for God’s sake. I reckon Bethsheba either lost a bet or is a nymphomaniac with no standards whatsoever.

  WEDNESDAY 7 MARCH

  MEGA trouble at the Rancho Bandry!!! When I got home from school today the Mad Cow had a surprise for me. She’d decided to GIVE ME her mobe. She said she never used it, so she didn’t see any reason why I shouldn’t have hers. I tried to talk her out of it. I said I was pretty shaken from the attack and wasn’t sure if I wanted to walk around with something that was so popular with thieves. As per usual, she paid ABSOLUTELY no attention to me. She said as long as I was careful and paid attention to where I was she’d actually feel better about me going out on my own if I had her phone. She went to get it. She was gone for eons. I crossed my fingers and sipped my tea. Maybe she’d totally forgotten where she’d put it. She hadn’t. She returned in screaming mode. “Where’s my phone? Did you take my phone? Did you go through my things? How would you like it if I went through your things?” (As if, right?!!) Blah blah blah. I didn’t break down though. I’ve been her daughter for sixteen years; I know how to do it. I just kept saying that I had no idea what she was talking about. What could she do? She’s too lazy to dust for fingerprints. The whole time this was going on, Nan was sound asleep at the kitchen table. She only woke up when the MC started screaming that it was her phone I lost yesterday. “Tell the truth, Janet. It was my phone, wasn’t it,” she kept shrieking. “Trust in the Lord!” cried Nan. The Mad Cow said He was probably the only person in this house you could trust.

  THURSDAY 8 MARCH

  Disha, being of a v thorough (and, to be honest, less creative) nature, thinks it would be a good idea for me to try out my new bike BEFORE the weekend, but this seems a little reckless to me. I mean, what if I do get hit by a police car? (If you belong to a family like mine, you realize at a young age that you haven’t exactly been born under a lucky star.) It would be bad enough if I had an accident after my ride with Elvin, but I don’t want to be in traction when I should be with him. I reminded Disha that you never forget how to ride a bike, no matter how long it’s been. That’s a fact. She said she reckons it really is a fact, since her grandmother can’t remember where she is most of the time, but last summer at the family barbecue she jumped on some child’s bicycle and rode all over the garden, singing.

  The MC was still up and in one of her anti-Mrs Kennedy moods when I got back from babysitting tonight. She wanted to know where I’d been till nearly midnight, and I said across the road – where did she think I’d been? She said she thought Mrs Kennedy, having children of her own, would realize that Thursday is a school night. Then she wanted to know if she was usually drunk when she came home in the middle of the night like this. Did she say where she’d been? Did she go out on her own or with friends? (I really think the MC must’ve played a v key role in the Spanish Inquisition in one of her previous lives.) I said so now you’re Mrs Kennedy’s mother too. She said no, she’s just my mother and that’s hard enough. I pointed out that paranoia is also a symptom of the menopause, and she said not to forget that infanticide is too. I said it’s lucky she doesn’t have an infant then, and she said that’s not what it means.

  FRIDAY 9 MARCH

  Marcus rang wanting to know if I fancied going to the cinema at the weekend. I said Disha and I were planning to see that Chinese film on Sunday and he could come along if he wanted. Then Flynn rang with the same question, so I invited him to come along too. I consider this v fortuitous! It could be my chance to find out what’s happening with him and Catriona.

  Spent HOURS blacking in the stitching on my combats with a marker, as suggested by D. They are the absolutely only thing I have that’s right for cycling on the heath (excruciatingly cool, but practical at the same time). And if I do say so myself, they look well wicked. I’m also wearing the bat top Disha gave me (partly because I ADORE it, and partly for luck). I doubt that I’ll sleep much tonight, but at least my chimes will soothe my troubled, restless heart.

  SATURDAY 10 MARCH

  I’m writing this now, BEFORE my date with Elvin, even though I still have scads more to do to get ready. But as I finally drifted off to sleep last night, floating on the delicate sound of my chimes like a bamboo leaf on a warm spring breeze, it struck me that this could be a v momentous day. This may be the day I Fall in Love for the first time. (Which, as everyone knows, is the Most Important Day of Your Life!!!) If it is, then I will Never Be the Same Again. Think of it! I got up this morning and did the things I do every morning. I washed, dressed and put on my make-up as per usual. I had a cup of tea and a bowl of cereal as per usual. Nan was arguing with her only son, Justin was stuffing his face while he read the paper and the Mad Cow was talking to the radio. (“Yes,” she was saying, “that’s precisely what I think.”) Everything normal. And all the time I didn’t know I was about to Fall Excruciatingly Madly in Love. That while I was wiping up the juice that got spilled, My Destiny was brushing his teeth in Crouch End. So wish me luck! The next time you hear from me I may be a woman in L-o-v-e.

  SUNDAY 11 MARCH

  I couldn’t write last night, not after the day I had! And not because I am a woman in L-o-v-e (it’s almost a miracle I’m not a woman in T-R-A-C-T-I-O-N). I feel like a Pawn of Fate. Delete all that crap about God loving me. God thinks of me as a toy, like the chewed-up stuffed goldfish that Mr Kipling is always dropping in your lap. Nothing in my life is easy. Nothing in my life goes the way it’s meant to. (HOLD EVERYTHING! I have to get a cup of tea to calm my nerves before I put this excruciating tragedy down in purple and white. I’ll be right back.)

  I’m back! First of all, I should’ve known this wasn’t going to be the Date of My Dreams from the moment I woke up and discovered that something had gone RADICALLY WRONG with my hair in the night. (I reckon there must be some cosmic law that says that the more important the occasion, the worse your hair is going to be.) Elvin said he’d meet me by the station in Hampstead. This ruined my plan of taking the tube. I didn’t want him to see me coming out of the station, not after all our talk about how great it is to ride a bike etc. On the other hand, there was no way I was riding up Haverstock Hill, even if I could have done it without bursting a lung. Not only did I not want to arrive for our first date all sweaty, but also I was a bit weak since I’d eaten ALMOST NOTHING since Friday night so I wouldn’t feel too fat. Even walking, it’s a bloody steep hill! I was beginning to think that they’d moved Hampstead (like to Finchley) by the time I finally got to the top. I was v happy to see that Elvin is a man of his
word (I think reliability is important in a man). He was waiting outside the tube with his really flash bike (it made me wish I’d painted mine black and silver, but I thought it would impress him more if it looked really used).

  I got on before he spotted me and rode to the corner. He started laughing as soon as he saw me. Elvin said he hadn’t seen a bike like mine in EONS. He said it looked like they’d reinvented the solid-steel frame. But he seemed impressed that I wasn’t even out of breath. He said I was v fit and must have incredible thighs (Disha agrees that this was a v flirtatious remark). The first forty-five minutes were PERFECT. We went to this little café before we actually started doing any strenuous exercise. I ordered herbal tea. (I felt pretty pleased with myself that I remembered.) Elvin ordered a double espresso. My tea tasted the way the water looks when you wash your knickers by hand, but it didn’t matter because I felt about twenty. A sophisticated twenty. I reckon if you’re a sophisticated twenty you can put up with laundry water. Elvin told me some more about the film he wants to make. He wants it to show the side of life that you don’t see in Hollywood movies. I said, “You mean, no guns?” and he laughed and said what a good sense of humour I have. It was all smiles and meaningful looks after that. We should’ve ended the date on minute forty-six, but we didn’t. We went outside to get our bikes. Elvin explained the route we were taking (up there, first right, first right, first left – that sort of thing) and I nodded thoughtfully even though I hadn’t a clue where we were going. (To tell you the truth, I’ve always found Oxford Street more interesting than Hampstead Heath. I mean, once you’ve seen a tree you pretty much get the idea, don’t you?) I watched Elvin take off. He was faster than the traffic. I got on my bike. I hadn’t had any trouble riding the couple of metres to the corner the tube station’s on (push down on the right pedal, push down on the left pedal etc.), but for some reason this time I pushed left and pushed right and then I more or less fell over. (I reckon it was nerves because now I was with Elvin. Or sort of with Elvin. Elvin actually shot through a yellow light just before I tipped over. I thanked God. I didn’t need any more of an audience than I had.) The next time I managed to stay upright. I was wobbling a bit, but I was also moving forward. Elvin was waiting on the other side of the lights, and as soon as he saw me he set off again. I couldn’t go nearly as fast as he was going without being able to fly (I think he said his bike weighs about a pound), but at least I stopped wobbling. Everybody was right: You Never Forget How to Ride a Bike. Unfortunately there’s another thing that’s true, and that’s that England never forgets how to rain. I was just sort of beginning to almost enjoy myself when it started to pour down. I rang my bell so Elvin would know I was having a good time (and also so he wouldn’t forget I was there). He turned round and waved. And then he went right and disappeared. I went after him. I couldn’t remember if I was meant to take the first left or the first right then, but he definitely wasn’t ahead of me, so I went right, where there were more trees and less rain. It was the wrong choice. The only thing in front of me now was DOWN. I don’t think I’d ever seen such a v perpendicular hill before in my life! Aside from the fact that I was more hurtling than gliding down the hill, I wanted to stop before I went too far so I didn’t have to walk back up. I touched my brakes. Absolutely NOTHING happened. I touched them again. If anything, I was picking up speed. This time I squeezed both brakes so hard I thought I was going to bend the handlebars. I started ringing my bell, but that didn’t slow me down either. I closed my eyes and REALLY screamed. Elvin said I was lucky not to have broken anything. He said it was too bad my brother wasn’t with me because he would’ve loved a photo of my face as I came down that hill (I made a mental note to tell Disha not to talk about my family to Elvin until I’ve had a chance to prepare him myself). Being a gentleman, Elvin insisted on coming back with me to make sure I was all right. This was FINE with me. Sigmund had a group, the Mad Cow was out with Nan, and Justin’s never home on a Saturday unless he’s ill. My spirits rose even more when on the way home Elvin said that if I wanted, he’d come back next Saturday and fix my bike for me. I wasn’t actually planning to ever get on the bike again, but I said that would be v kind of him and I’d even fix him lunch. He reminded me that I had my yoga class on Saturday afternoon (what a memory!). I said I’d changed it because Saturdays are just too busy. And that’s when all the good news stopped, because not only was Justin at home, he was watching a film on the little telly in the kitchen. Elvin immediately introduced himself and sat down. Following his practice of ALWAYS HUMILIATING ME IF HE CAN, Justin said, “Costello or Presley?” After I told him it was Elvin not Elvis and he should consider having his ears syringed, I went to change into something dry. And also do something about my hair and my make-up. But what did I see when I looked in the mirror? Not only was I soaking wet and slightly bruised (my hair looked even worse than it had when I woke up – I think I may cut it really short and dye it plum) but MY FACE WAS STREAKED WITH BLACK! I looked at my hands. They were black too. I looked down at my trousers. They were still black, but the stitching wasn’t. Now it was grey. I even had ink on my legs!

  By the time I got back to the kitchen Elvin and the Abominable Brother weren’t watching the film any more; they were talking about some photographic exhibition Justin’s going to see next weekend! Really!!! As if anybody’s interested. Trust my brother to be mute for most of his adolescence and then decide to make up for all those years of silence the first time I bring a potential boyfriend home. I put the kettle on. I suggested that Elvin and I could have our tea in my room, but Elvin said he was fine where he was. I drank my tea and watched the film while Justin tried to bore Elvin to death. I could feel depression descending, but I acted cheerful and normal. I don’t want Elvin thinking I’m moody this early on. And also I have to consider my skin. My skin always erupts when I’m depressed – because of the stress. As soon as the film was over, Justin said he had stuff to do and left. ALONE AT LAST! I wanted to cry out loud with joy! But not for long because then Elvin said he had stuff to do too and better shake a leg. As soon as Elvin left I went to Justin’s room to kill him, but he was already in his darkroom (that locks, of course!), so instead I went to Disha’s for the night. (I used to wish that the Paskis would adopt me, but since the Night of the Fire Engines Mr Paski’s been more in the mood to have Disha adopted than take me on.) Disha said what happened with the ink was I didn’t use a laundry marker; I just used a coloured pen. It’s all the Mad Cow’s fault because we didn’t have a laundry marker, did we? Sometimes I think she does these things on purpose.

  Disha says she doesn’t remember saying anything to Elvin about my brother taking pictures. She thinks Calum must have. I’m beginning to see some advantages to having a brother who doesn’t speak.

  MONDAY 12 MARCH

  The Chinese film was well wicked! Neither Disha nor I really like martial arts films (one time over at Nick’s the boys were all watching a Bruce Lee movie and Disha and I talked through it because it was sooo cheesy and boring, and they told us to leave). Fight scenes are as tedious as car chases if you ask me. But this was different. This was more like a cross between Jane Austen and Peter Pan because there were two great love stories in it and the people could fly. And also the fighting was absolutely brilliant and not just the men, which, if you think about it, is still pretty unusual. The boys liked it too, even though it was a love story. There was, however, a bit of an incident. (Didn’t I tell you nothing’s ever easy?) The others went to find our seats while Marcus and I bought the snacks. It was a long queue, and we started messing around. I was trying to get my wallet from behind his back and I wound up pressed against his chest, but when we broke away most of my purple glitter bat was on Marcus! (Disha says maybe it’s because it got so wet on Saturday.) It wouldn’t come off Marcus though, would it? When we got back to the others Disha said it looked like we’d been snogging with a definite amount of Passion. Really! At the snack counter? And also I never got a chance to interrogate Flynn about C
atriona because he left right after the film for some reason.

  TUESDAY 13 MARCH

  I had to go to the library this afternoon because I got another notice about overdue books. I told the old bag I’d brought them back, and she said not those, the other ones. I said I didn’t even remember taking that lot out, and she said one of the most astonishing things she’s discovered in her hundred years as a school librarian is the high percentage of teenagers who suffer from amnesia. I said I’d look for them (the books, not the teenagers). When I got home the Mad Cow, Willow and Mars, and Sappho were in session in the kitchen. There was one of those sudden meaningful silences when I shut the front door behind me. “Shhh! The child’s home! Don’t let her hear what we were saying about sex!” (I reckon talking about sex is about as close as any of them get to it. Willow hasn’t been alone with a man since Jupiter’s father did a runner, the Mad Cow and Sigmund DEFINITELY haven’t had sex since Nan moved in – and probably not for the sixteen years before that either – and Sappho, as you know, is a lesbian, which doesn’t really count.) Anyway, by the time I got to the kitchen they were going again at full volume, but now, of course, it wasn’t about sex; it was about food. Simple as peasants, this lot. It’s almost unbelievable. I shouted “Hi!” and everyone looked up, acting surprised to find me in the house. They all said hi back, except the Mad Cow, who gave me this sickly smile like she was trying to be brave and asked me if I’d had a good day. Needless to say, it wasn’t a real question. Before I could even open my mouth to answer they all went back to banging on about root vegetables. Boring or what? I waited for someone to remember I was waiting to speak. It’s just as well I wasn’t holding my breath. “Did someone ask how my day was?” I asked loudly. “Well, to tell you the truth, it was pretty damn awful.” Sappho reminded Willow that she was going to do her chart for her and said that maybe they should go over to hers. This was a hint: they wanted me to vanish. I told them not to bother getting up; I was going to my room to commit suicide. This news had an immediate effect. Mars came over and stuck his nose between my thighs. If you ask me, he should’ve been called Uranus.