Are These My Basoomas I See Before Me? (11 page)

BOOK: Are These My Basoomas I See Before Me?
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It was after midnight before we came out. When we got to the end of Rosie’s road, the rest of them walked off because they all lived in the same direction. They were yelling, “Pants for the memory!”


Gute Nacht, Volltrottel
!”


Abschiedskuss
all round!”

Till there was only Dave and me left.

It was a lovely soft night and as we walked along, I felt all warm and yummy inside.

Dave said, “I’ll walk back along your way in case you are attacked by voles.”

I said, “Fanks.”

We didn’t link up or anything and walked a bit apart. You know, in a sort of matey way. I think.

Then Dave said, “Well, I don’t know what you think, missus, but I thought that was quite literally a hoot and a half. I thought your yodeling in ‘The Lonely Goatherd’ was, well, good is not the word.”

I said, “Oy, mate, I have practiced yodeling for weeks. Libby makes me read
Heidi
at least four times a day.”

As we got near my house, Dave said, “Ah well, better say
Auf Wiedersehen,
pet.”

And we both stood looking at each other in the half-light.

He has got the most dreamy eyes. I don’t know what it is, but I always feel like I could look at him for ages and ages. (Not in an Angus and Gordy looking at Bum-ty way.)

I don’t know how much time went by because for once my brain froze.

I sort of felt like Baby Jesus, all full of love.

Dave put his hand on my face and just gently stroked it. Then he traced his finger around my mouth.

Oh no, stop puckering!!!

He looked down at me still with his finger on my lips and said, “I don’t know what it is about you, kittykat, but for me you are the most beautiful girl in the world.”

Then he kissed me, just a little kiss.

I sort of reached up to kiss him back, but he stepped back then and pulled his coat collar up.

He breathed in really deeply and then cleared his throat and said, “Hmmm, that was a bit unexpected…but, anyway, dig you later.”

I didn’t know what to say. Or do.

I just stood there.

I wanted to do all sorts of things. Grab him, run away, laugh uncontrollably. Snog, go to the loo, do a bit of the flame dance. I don’t know!!!! Who is in control here?

As I dithered around, he walked off home.

When I got in, Mum and Dad were still up. And they weren’t alone. Uncle Eddie was there. He’s just “popped” by after a baldy-o-gram night. He
hasn’t been round much since the undercrackers at midnight scenario. Dad said they were “letting things cool down” neighborwise.

I said, “Why, are you pretending that you and Uncle Eddie are not gay?”

Anyway, sadly, they seem to be together again.

As I tried to scamper upstairs, Uncle Eddie said, “This is one for you, Georgia. A man goes to the doctor and says, ‘I keep thinking I’m a cartoon character. One day I’m Mickey Mouse, this morning I was convinced I was Bambi.’ And the doctor says, ‘It sounds to me like you’re having Disney spells.’”

I looked at him as he rocked and hooted with laughter, going, “Do you see??? Do you see…Disney spells!!!”

What is the point of Uncle Eddie?

in bed

1:00 a.m.

Blimey.

Well, the “cinema experience” turned out to be a hoot and a half. The laughter, the pants, the yodeling.

one minute later

The nearly accidentally snogging Dave the Laugh AGAIN!!!

What in the name of arse is going on?

two minutes later

What about Masimo?

I think I may have a touch of guiltosity.

two minutes later

Although I don’t know why I should have guiltosity, I haven’t really done anything wrong as such. Involuntary puckering is not a capital offense.

one minute later

In fact, I will probably mention it in a lighthearted way to the Luuurve God.

You know, tell him what larks we had at the “cinema experience.”

two minutes later

Although explaining the “Idlepants” thing might take the rest of my life, given that I can’t even say “What time is it?” in Italian.

Oh, I am just a crazy, mixed-up kid!!! It’s not
fair. If you look at the relativitosity of time and pretend that my life is a big clock…and I’m at three o’clock, it’s only about five minutes since I first learned to do my shoes up at kindergarten. And so how come I am supposed to be an expert at relationships???

I only started snogging last year. (Half past two.)

Shut up about the clock fiasco!!!!

I didn’t even have any basoomas eighteen months ago…(i.e., quarter to one…shut up, shut up, brain!!!).

I was practically just a nose on legs.

two minutes later

Ooohhh. I’m never going to be able to go to sleep now.

I wonder if Dave is feeling the same.

I hope he is because it’s his fault. He snogged me. I only did accidental puckering up.

It was him who said I was beautiful.

Am I?

Had a look in the mirror.

Erm, well, as I said, I have sort of grown into my nose, but I don’t exactly as such look like a supermodel.

Perhaps boys like all sorts of girls, not just supermodelly types.

Dad likes Mum, for instance, and does not think she looks like a mad prostitute.

In fact, he is very bloody keen on her these days.

I wonder if she is putting something in his food?

five minutes later

I’m going to count sheep to get to sleep.

three minutes later

Oh buggeration, the sheep keep changing into Masimo, and then Dave, and then Robbie, and then Masimo and then two Daves. And then Dave with a clown nose on, leaping over the fence. And then Masimo with a handbag. Then Dave and Masimo fighting and leaping over the fence.

I will never ever sleep again. I zzzzzzzzzzz-zzzzzzzzzzz.

sunday october 2nd

Yipppeee, I persuaded Mum to take Angus to the kittykat park! I told her that he luurves his cousins and he’s going to be a really good kittykat.

two minutes later

Mum has gone ballistic because Angus was going on and on,
miaow
ing and rubbing round her legs. Tripping her up when she tried to walk anywhere. He’s had his food so she put some water down for him in his bowl. He looked at it and then instead of lapping it up, he leapt in it and splashed it all over the floor and her.

She tried to chuck him out, but he ran off into the front room and he’s managed to get himself into the back of the armchair.

She said, “He’s not coming with us.”

I said, “Mum, he’s excited. He is hearing the call of the wild.”

She said, “Go and get his lead. I’m putting my gardening gloves on.”

We eventually got Angus out of the armchair and on his lead. It was all going quite well until he had a spontaneous spaz attack and wound himself round and round my legs….

When Pippy turned up in her car, Mum said to Dad, “You don’t mind not coming, do you, Bob? Perhaps you could fix the shed roof this afternoon. I would be so thrilled if you did.”

I looked at her in an “Are you mad?” way.

As if Dad will agree to that. The last time he fixed a ceiling, he went into the attic to have a look, walked in between the rafters and there were his big fat footprints there forever.

To my absolute amazement, he gave her a big kiss on the mouth (oh dear God) and said, “Alright, my queen. Missing you already.”

As we got in the car, I said to Mum, “Is Dad on drugs?”

And Mum said, “No, but the whole thing I have learned from Madame Betty is—”

I said, “Mum, can I just stop you there. If this is anything to do with boiled eggs and so on, I would rather not know.”

She didn’t take any notice of me, but just went on chatting to Pippy about stuff they had learned in their stupid workshop thingy.

I was trying not to listen because it was making me feel a bit queasy. Stuff about thinking you are the sexiest woman alive, etc. Telling yourself how gorgeous you are.

On and bloody on.

When Mum said, “Next week we are doing how to release your inner lusciousness,” I had to stuff two bits of scrumpled up paper handkerchief in my ears.

wild park!!!

Angus luuurved his wild cousins. The wildcat ladeeez luuurved Angus, too, the little furry minxes, lying on their backs with their girlie parts flying free.

He really howled when we finally managed to get him away.

To cheer him up because he was still yowling and bonking about in the car, I sang “Wild Thing” to him.

I even improvised a little kittykat disco inferno dance.

And I did the paw actions for him.

He let me work his paws for a bit before he started spitting.

home

Dad had hit himself with the hammer, and also the door of the shed had fallen off. So an excellent result DIYwise.

He was in a foul mood when we got in.

I thought it was too good to last.

It was a bit of a relief to see the Portly One back to normal.

He was vati-ing around, moaning and limping. Which is ironic, seeing as he had hit his thumb with the hammer.

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 fence.”

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.”

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