by Grace Dent
THURSDAY 25TH DECEMBER, CHRISTMAS DAY
10PM—I don’t know if what happened today really happened. I’m a bit confused. I’m going to write it all down and see if it makes more sense.
So today was Christmas Day which is always one of the best days of the whole year in our house ’cos we sort of do the same stuff every single year like a little pattern. We pull Christmas crackers and we open a tin of Quality Street chocolates and me and Cava-Sue argue over the green triangles and we all get a bit tipsy on Bucks Fizz and we eat a massive meal of turkey and vegetables that makes you feel proper farty.
Nan comes round and she always gets new Christmas fluffy slippers and she always falls asleep after dinner with her gob open and we always make jokes about her looking like the Dartford Tunnel. About twenty minutes after Christmas dinner finishes Mum starts clattering about in the kitchen then produces an extra large lattice-top pork pie and two hundred ham sandwiches and a bread pudding then gets the hump when no one will “pull their weight” and eat any.
We always wear stupid paper hats all day and Dad always tries to claim he saw Santa when he was up at 5AM cooking the turkey and Mum always wears a smart outfit all day and lipstick that gradually slides down her face. And at night we sit down and watch a movie on BBC1 but everyone always talks all the way through it and the phone keeps ringing with mad relatives who only call up once a year to say Happy Christmas and my mum talks to them all using her posh phone voice and we all giggle and eat After Eight mints and feel happy but a bit sick.
This year was totally the same as always, but different too.
For a start Nan brought Clement with her, who was in a proper happy mood and he turned up in a Santa hat with a big bottle of rum. So right away Dad and Clement started having a “wee nip just to test its consistency” and being proper silly and not concentrating on the brussels sprouts which was their job.
Everyone—Cava-Sue, Lewis, Mum, Murphy, Nan, they were laughing and joking and I thought I was too but I can’t have been ’cos folks kept asking me “What’s wrong with your mush?” and telling me, “Cheer up, it might never happen!” When of course I wanted to shout “IT HAS HAPPENED! I’VE CHEATED ON WESLEY BARRINGTON BAINS II WITH JOSHUA FALLOW AND I THINK I’VE FALLEN IN LOVE!!!”
Eventually Wesley turned up wearing his new navy Ralph Lauren Christmas sweatshirt from his mum. He was holding a big box which was all fancy-wrapped like Sonia Cathcart had been at it giving it the full yee-hah with some glitter and tinsel bows. The moment Wesley stepped in the house everyone cheered then started making funny comments about the big fancy present he was holding saying, “’Ere, Wesley, don’t get too excited about your gift from Shiraz! ’Cos we’ve all had ours. Flipping heck! No expense spared, mate!”
And this was when I started to realize I’d PROPER MESSED UP with Wesley’s present. ’Cos Wesley loves Christmas and Wesley loves giving presents and here he is with a big sparkly box of something amazing and here’s me with a can of antifreeze. And now I see that in no way is this going to be funny, like it was when Cava-Sue opened her Swiss Army Knife.
I thought we could do with some privacy so we went to my room. Wesley sat on the bed and looked at me and it was horrible ’cos it was like he KNEW about Josh but he couldn’t have, it was just me being paranoid. Then he passed me his present which I unwrapped, and it was something proper amazing. It was this well expensive desk lamp called an “anglepoise” like proper writers have. It was from that posh shop that Carrie always goes on about called Habitat.
“Do you like it?” Wesley said.
“I love it,” I said, feeling even more terrible now. “When did you get it?!”
“Oh, I drove to London for it last week when you were at Mr. Yolk,” he said.
“You went all the way to London?!” I said.
“Yeah.” He smiled. “Proper nightmare that place is. Well smelly.”
It was when I gave him the antifreeze that things started going properly tits up. Wesley started saying having no time is no excuse at Christmas ’cos everyone is busy. How I never have no time for him anymore. How ever since I started Sixth Form it’s like I’m a different person and he don’t know if he can put up with the new me.
So I said, “Oh bloody BUGGER OFF then, Wesley. ’Cos this is me now and I’m going to keep on being me and I AIN’T BLOODY CHANGING!”
Wesley picked up his antifreeze and his new scraper and his car keys and said, “Well, that’s that then, Shiraz, innit. See ya around.” Then he gave me a kiss on the forehead and walked down the stairs, out the door, and drove off.
I sat on the edge of my bed for a bit and felt well upset and sick and relieved all at the same time. Then I went downstairs into the kitchen where Nan and Clement were dancing together by the sink to a song by Shakin’ Stevens on Radio Essex. They had their hands around each other’s waists, looking into each other’s eyes like they were a bit in love with each other. When I walked in they both stopped.
So, reading this through all again from the top, it seems that me and Wesley Barrington Bains II are over. And my Nan is getting it on with Clement.
That Jesus Christ is quite obviously celebrating his birthday by having a right old giggle at my expense.
FRIDAY 26TH DECEMBER
Latanoyatiqua Marshall-Dinsdale was born today at 4AM. She was 7lb. 2oz. Kezia had her at home in her mum’s living room with Kezia’s mum and sisters all helping out and holding her ankles. Kezia says it was proper painful. Like going to the loo, then realizing you had to try and push out a big watermelon one millimeter at a time but for nine whole hours.
Kezia’s baby is well nice though. She’s a lovely, brown, plump lump with long eyelashes. Me and Carrie and Uma went round to see her tonight. Carrie was too scared to hold her but I wasn’t. I tucked her into my chest and for some reason my stomach went all funny and I wanted to cry.
I told Kezia that me and Wesley had split up. Kezia says that I’m better off without a bloke, ’cos they all let you down in the end just like her Luther did. Carrie says to Kezia that I’ve no place to moan ’cos I’ll soon be upgrading Wesley for “something a lot better.” I know she means Joshua Fallow.
Carrie is hassling me and Uma to go to Joshua’s New Year’s Eve party at his house next week but I’m not too sure. You should see some of the texts he’s been sending me. Proper rude they are. It’s all he ever thinks about. Not that I don’t think about rude things too sometimes. Saying that, Kezia’s story about the watermelon has put me off a bit. Nothing’s worth that trouble.
SATURDAY 27TH DECEMBER
Sat 27 Dec 5:06
FROM: JOSHUA
HI SHIZ—PRTY AT MINE
ON NEW YRS EVE.
U R COMIN ARENT U?
JUST SAY YES.
I’LL MAKE IT
WORTH YOUR WHILE.
LET’S START
NEW YEAR WITH A
BANG. ADDRESS: 37
VERENCE ROAD. 9PM.
XXXXXX:OXXXXXXXXX
Sat 27 Dec 5:46
FROM: SHIRAZ
HI JOSH—NT SURE
BOUT PARTY. HEAD
BIT MIXED UP NOW.
MAY JUST HAVE A
QUIET ONE. CHEERS
FOR INVITE. SHIZZA
Sat 27 Dec 8:07
FROM: JOSHUA
SHUT UP AND GET YOUR
FINE BOOTY OVER TO MY
HOUSE N.Y.E. OR ELSE.
WANT TO SEE
YOUR EYES AND YOUR
SMILE AND YOUR NICE
BIG PAIR OF…
Sat 27 Dec 8:09
FROM: JOSHUA
… HOOP EARRINGS!
(SOZ FOR DELAY, GOT
DISTRACTED THINKING
BOUT THAT SNOG WE HAD.)
MMMMMMMMMMMMM.
Sat 27 Dec 9:19
FROM: SHIRAZ
STOP IT! STOP BENDING
MY HEAD. YOU ARE A
PROPER LIBERTY
JOSHUA EZRA FALLOW!
GET OUT OF MY BR
AIN.
Sat 27 Dec 10:15
FROM: JOSHUA
HA, GOT YOU
THINKING THO.
SO YOU’LL COME
TO THE PARTY? IT’LL
BE GOOD. I PROMISE.
JUST COME. X
Sat 27 Dec 11:12
FROM: JOSHUA
SHIRAZ BAILEY WOOD!
R U THERE???
R U COMING????
Sat 27 Dec 11:45
FROM: SHIRAZ
OK X
JANUARY
THURSDAY 1ST JANUARY
I was planning to blow off Josh’s party yesterday and stay in with my folks instead. Fact is I was feeling proper odd what with everyone on TV bloody going on and on about New Year’s Eve and “fresh starts” and “taking stock of the last twelve months” and here’s me just split with this bloke who properly loved me but now reckons I’m well up myself and I miss him like mad but I don’t want to get back with him ’cos all he chats about is Vauxhall Novas and his plumbing NVQ and I’ve met this other boy who is well buff with pointy cheekbones who actually reads books and thinks about life.
“So what you up to this evening? Out gallivanting?” my mother says at about 5 o’clock and I sighs and goes, “Nah, I’m going to stay in with you lot I reckon.” And my mother says “Oh, well we are very honored I’m sure, but you’ll have a bleeding job of it ’cos me and your father are going to a Tom Jones tribute act at Goodmayes Social. Five quid a ticket and you get your buffet for that too! Good, eh?” So I goes, “You’re what!? You’re going out? You ALWAYS stay in on New Year’s Eve!” and Mum says, “Yeah, and I always have to sit here looking at your sour face ’cos you want to be out partying! Well you’re seventeen now so I thought you’d be off out and staying at Carrie Draper’s so I made plans! Or should I have cleared it with Her Royal Highness first?”
I just gave her my stroppiest WHATEVER look.
“’Ere, and by the way,” she says, “Cava-Sue and Lewis and Murphy are all at parties too, so if you are staying in will you make sure Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve with Ryan Seacrest records on the DVR for Cava-Sue and will you let the dog out for a jimmy-widdle at 11PM ’cos you know she likes one just before bed, after she’s had her Pringles?”
At that point I decided I was off to Josh’s party. But I was well late getting ready by this time, so I ran around the house like a mental, rounding up my best jeans, top, and hoodie from various laundry baskets and sticking them in the washing machine and putting them on the radiators to get them dried fast, which ended up in another stand-up with my mother who could sniff a radiator being put on in Australia I reckon. Mum then starts tracking me around the house moaning about heating bills and about me not giving her no money toward stuff now I’m in Sixth Form and basically doing my head in by going on and on like that for about forty-five minutes while I just ignored her and wished she had a bloody mute button.
So I walked down Thundersley Road and knocked for Uma, who looked proper amazing in skin-tight black trousers and a black off-the-shoulder top and big hoops and fake tan, ’cos she’d had a big win on the Poker and had been treating herself down at New Look. I waited while she fed Zeus then we set off for Josh’s house.
Josh lives over on the far side of Goodmayes on this posh street called Verence Road which is up near the hospital. It’s all really big old-fashioned-looking terraced houses up there with quite spooky trees along the pavements. My mother always says a lot of the doctors and the psychiatrists from the hospital live round there and I’m sure Cava-Sue once said one of her lecturers from her AS-Level Theater Studies lived down Verence Road too. It felt well different there to Thundersley Road ’cos no one had decorations on the front of their houses at all and everyone seemed well obsessed with recycling boxes and the only houses that had rubbish or weeds in their front gardens looked like they were being gutted by builders to be completely done up and a few of the houses had scaffolding up the front like they were making the lofts bigger, as if the houses weren’t flipping big enough already.
We walked up to number 37, which had a big black door and big bay window like my mum always gets excited about on them “do your house up” shows she watches. “Ooh I love them big Victorian bays!” she always says, “Just like my granny used to have over in Stockwell when I was a little girl!”
I was thinking about that as we rang the doorbell and waited. It seemed like there was a proper noisy party going on.
Suddenly the door flings opens and there’s this lady who’s about fifty standing there in a long black dress with brown hair all piled up on the top her head sort of willy-nilly holding a glass of red wine. She looks at us and shouts, “Youngs or olds?” and we go “Eh?” and she goes “Which party do you want? Ancient people downstairs, hip young gunslingers up in the loft!”
“Erm, Joshua, innit?” said Uma.
“Of course,” howled the woman who had a bit of mentalist laugh to be honest. “Up the stairs, keep on going, up two flights. Oh, and will you tell him if anyone is smoking up there to keep the skylight ajar as I’ve just had the upstairs painted and I don’t want it smoked out.”
“Mmmmokthankyou,” we said.
We walked past her and down the hall where loads of grown-ups were standing about drinking wine and yakking. Snow Patrol was blaring out of the living room and I’m sure I could smell hash smoke floating out of the kitchen. The blokes were wearing jeans and suit jackets and some had beards and the women looked a bit like teachers and they all seemed to have extra-loud voices and one woman was moaning about how some documentary she’d just finished assistant-producing had changed air dates TWICE and she’d just fired off a stinking e-mail to the BBC and another woman was telling everyone that she’d reduced her carbon footprint by ninety percent in six months. Me and Uma got down the hallway as fast as we could then practically ran up the stairs.
Joshua actually has his own floor of the house. HIS OWN FLOOR!!! You know how my room is so small that I have to get out of bed and go onto the landing and reverse back in again if I want to turn over in bed? Well Joshua don’t have this problem as he has his own bloody massive bedroom in the attic with room for a double bed, a sofa, and his own bloody en suite bathroom!!!
When we got up to Joshua’s room there was about thirty-five kids up there from Mayflower and Regis Hill Boys and Walthamstow Grange and a few girls from North West London who Josh said were his sort-of cousins and everyone was laughing and chatting and screaming and shouting and jumping on the bed and drinking cider and hanging out of the skylight and smoking cigarettes and this weird lad called Nozz kept showing everyone he could do backflips and everyone was fighting over the stereo trying to plug in their iPods and playing hip-hop and Dubstep and R&B. It was the most wicked party I’ve EVER seen in real life.
Then Carrie showed up with Saf and Sean and by this point everyone was dancing or falling about or they were on their phones calling other folks to tell them about Josh’s party or taking photos of each other to send to other kids to prove what a legendary party it was. And the hours started to really fly by then because everything got really messy and at one point I was so happy and dizzy I thought I was on a different planet, in fact I don’t even remember it turning midnight at all. And from the moment me and Josh hooked up we just had such a proper laugh with each other and I totally forgot about the split-up with Wesley ’cos me and Josh were flirting and chatting then cuddling then snogging then REALLY REALLY snogging each other and everyone who saw us was saying what a well cute couple we were and Joshua didn’t argue with that he just held me even closer and told everyone I was his now. And I felt properly like I was in love although I knew it must just be my head playing tricks and jumbling stuff up.
And somehow when I didn’t even notice, it started getting light and everyone was beginning to get taxis and me and Josh ended up curled up on the floor with a blanket over us watching some mad film on DVD with subtitles and just chatting total rubbish about proper randomness like books
and music and what superhero power we’d both like to have for one day and all sorts of crap and it just felt totally amazing with Josh there wrapped around me under the blanket talking to me proper intensely about life and sometimes biting and kissing my neck. And we stayed there for ages doing stuff and eventually passed out and when I woke up it was midday and there was no one else there but me and Josh lying on a floor surrounded by bottles and party poppers.
I grabbed all my stuff and kissed his snoring face and ran off home and quickly got in the shower and stood there for ages thinking.
I feel like I’ll never be the same person ever again.
SATURDAY 3RD JANUARY
Me and Joshua are going out. I’m Joshua’s girlfriend! Me? JOSHUA FALLOW? He’s like the buffest boy in Mayflower and he wants to go out with me! ME! He fancies me! He says he can’t stop thinking about me and I can’t stop thinking about him either. I feel sick all the time. I just want to be with him every minute. Like right now when I’m lying in bed here all I want to do is run out of the door and run to his house on Verence Road and see him and smell him and kiss him and wrap my arms and legs round him. I think I’m going mad. I want to tell everyone in the whole world. I want to get on the top deck of the number 56 bus and ride round and round Ilford shouting it at passersby.
But we’re going to try and keep it quietish for a bit ’cos I don’t want Wesley to know. He’s going to think I’m a right hoochie. I hope he’s not too upset.
THURSDAY 8TH JANUARY
I went over to Joshua’s after school tonight. We were planning on doing some reading for English ’cos it was back to school this week, but it’s proper difficult studying when you’re on your own with Joshua in his room ’cos he is so choong that it is well distracting. I keep finding little bits of him I ain’t never noticed or kissed before. I like the bits behind his ears and the end of his nose.
