Read My Dating Disasters Diary Online
Authors: Liz Rettig
'What a weirdo.'
'I can't face it, Kelly Ann,' Angela said desperately.
'So don't go. Tell him he's dumped.'
'I can't. He's such a good person. Generous, kind, and
he, you know, respects me – maybe a bit too much. I'd feel
really mean.' She paused for a moment, thinking, and
then continued, 'He's coming round for me at four. You
couldn't just tell him I'm ill or something? Or, erm, had to
go out because of some emergency?'
'I'd better not tell him you're ill. He'd only bring the
prayer group round your bed to pray for your recovery.'
I switched the TV back on. 'I'll tell him you're out but I
really think you should dump him.'
'Thanks, Kelly Ann.'
He arrived nearly a half-hour early. Angela had been
sitting gazing moodily out the window when she saw his
car pull in. She ducked down, hissing, 'He's here!' Then
she raced upstairs.
I answered the door.
'Hi, Kelly Ann, is Angela ready?' he said, with a
pleasant smile I'd come to hate.
'Sorry, she's not in. I don't know where she is and I've
no idea when she'll be back. She's left her mobile here so
there's no point in calling her. Bye.'
I started to close the door but he put his hand on it to
stop me.
'Now, Kelly Ann, don't you know it's a sin to lie? I saw
your sister at the window.'
Bollocks
.
'She's not here,' I repeated, since I couldn't be bothered
to think of another lie.
'Now don't worry about your sister, Kelly Ann. I know
she's had doubts about things recently but she'll feel
much better after our prayer meeting. Our group is going
to ask God to bless our relationship and grant us
guidance and strength. I have great faith in the power of
prayer.'
God, what a tosser. How did Angela put up with this?
Totally determined to get rid of him now, I said, 'Actually
we've just come back from church. I went with her to help
her pray for guidance.'
'You did?' he said, surprised and suspicious.
'Yeah. We prayed really hard for ages and ages, then
God answered us.'
'He did?' he said, even more sceptical now.
'Yeah. God said you two should split.'
'Don't be ridiculous. You're making this up. That's
impossible.'
'Oh really? I thought
you
were the one who believed in
the power of prayer. God definitely said it. Clear as anything.
In fact, he said Angela should dump you right
away.'
I tried to close the door but he blocked it and called
past me, 'Angela, come on down. The prayer group's
waiting.'
Angela didn't answer. He scowled and was about to
barge in past me when, thank God, I spotted Mum walking
towards our house, smoking a fag as usual.
'Mum!' I shouted.
David pasted a smile on his face again and waited for
her to come up to us.
'What's going on here?' she said.
'Good afternoon, ma'am. Nice to see you as—'
'Angela doesn't want to see him any more, Mum,' I
butted in quickly, 'but he won't leave her alone.'
Mum eyeballed him. 'Sod off.'
'There's seems to be some misunderstanding – I—'
Mum dropped her cigarette on the doorstep and, still
eyeballing him, crushed it with her foot. And it was
nearly a whole one. God, she must be really mad. She
said, 'I thought I told you to sod off.'
Idiot still didn't take the hint. 'I can assure you, ma'am,
your daughter Angela is just going through a temporary
period of doubt which with God's grace will—'
Mum put her bag on the ground then took off her coat
and handed it to me, saying, 'Here, look after this – it's
my good coat so I don't want blood on it.' She turned to
David, who at last had shut up and was looking at Mum
with the expression of someone who'd just spotted an
unexploded bomb. Finally he got the message.
Mum said, 'Get your pompous arse off my doorstep
and stay away from my girls or you'll be meeting that
Maker of yours a lot sooner than you'd planned.'
He opened his mouth to say something, but
thought better of it, and without another word scuttled
off.
Mum watched him contemptuously. 'Seems he isn't in
any hurry to sample that afterlife he's always on about. I
think that's the last we'll see of him.'
Thank God for that.
Albert the hairdresser charged sixty pounds just for a
consultation so there was no way I could use him.
Stephanie is great but I wish she'd understand that not
everyone has rich parents like her.
Managed to persuade Mum to give me thirty pounds
for a proper cut though, as it's my birthday next week,
and went to the hairdresser's after school. On the
windows was an advertisement.
MODELS WANTED. FREE HAIRCUTS
.
Fantastic. If they took me I could use the thirty pounds
to spend on clothes and make-up. And a pizza maybe. I
was starving.
It was a trainee who was to cut my hair. She didn't
look much older than me, but I was told she'd be closely
supervised and if there were any problems one of the
more experienced staff would sort things out.
Was relieved about that as the trainee, Tracey, didn't
even wash my hair properly. The water was too hot, she
got shampoo in my eyes and nearly broke my neck by
shoving my head too far back into the sink when I
complained.
Before she started cutting my hair, a proper hairdresser
gave her some instructions and watched as she started to
snip away at the ends, but then the place got very busy
and she was called away, leaving me alone with Tracey.
Wasn't too worried though – I knew if Tracey made an
arse of it, the proper hairdresser would fix it later.
Meanwhile she snipped away. At first she asked stupid
questions as she worked. Was I doing anything special
tonight? And where had I gone on holiday? Like, as if she
really cared. But she soon ran out of things to say and
carried on in silence while I watched in the mirror.
'Um, isn't the right side a bit shorter than the left?' I
said.
She looked at my reflection. 'Hmm, yeah, maybe just a
bit but I haven't finished anyway. I was just about to even
it up.'
Yeah, right.
'And the fringe is squinty,' I said.
'Like I said. I haven't finished.'
She started snipping at the left side, but this time she
made
that
too short so she had to take 'just a little bit more
off the right'.
But then the right was shorter so it was 'just a smidgen
off the left'.
I looked on in horror. Bit by bit my hair was getting
shorter and shorter.
Finally I screamed, 'No! It's too short!'
This brought the proper hairdresser running over.
Thank God for that. But how could she sort out hair that
was too short? Extensions maybe? Though I couldn't see
how you could attach anything to the stubble the trainee
had left.
She looked at my hair and frowned. Then, after a
few moments' silence, she said, 'It's fabulous.'
'What? But it's too—'
'Absolutely gorgeous.' She beckoned to two other
hairdressers, who were busy with clients. 'Come and see
what Tracey's done.'
They crowded round me.
'Isn't it fantastic?' one said.
'Yeah, really suits her,' the other agreed. 'Look how it
frames her eyes. Emphasizes her cheekbones.'
'Yeah, it's kind of, like, so gamine,' the first one went
on. 'And, erm, sort of elfin. It's all the rage this autumn.
Celebs are queuing up for this cut.'
Began to feel so much better. Looked at my reflection
again. It had been a shock at first, but so many experienced
hairdressers couldn't be wrong. This style was all
the rage and I really suited it. Bet Stephanie will be
pleased with me.
Before I left, I gave the trainee a five-pound tip. After
all, she'd done a fantastic job and I was still saving
twenty-five pounds on the cut.
Decided to wander into St Enoch's Square and see if I
could find a nice skirt or top. Wished I'd gone to the toilet
at the hairdresser's, as I was desperate now and I'd have
to pay twenty p just to pee. It was a total rip-off but I
didn't have a choice, and anyway I'd still saved a lot of
money today.
Was just about to go into the loos when I heard a man
behind me shout out, 'Oi, you!'
Turned round to see an annoyed-looking security man
glaring at me. 'Where do you think you're going?'
I shrugged and started to make my way in again. It
was none of his business after all.
But he shouted at me again: 'Get your arse out of there.
That's the women's toilets, ya scadgy wee perve.'
Oh God. My hair really
was
too short!
Stephanie and Liz are horrified and agree with me that
there is absolutely no way I can go to school for at least
two weeks so my hair can grow out. My planned meeting
with Harry is also postponed.
Mum and Dad are furious at paying thirty quid for me
to be 'scalped' and I had a lot of trouble stopping
them from going to the shop to complain (didn't tell them
about the trainee obviously or they might have thought it
was partly my fault). Couldn't persuade them to let me
stay off school though – I'd get my arse back there or else
– so I'll just have to dog school without them knowing.
Mum and Dad were at work today and Angela off to
college so it was easy to stay home without anyone
knowing. Am avoiding mirrors as I really hate my hair.
Despite my doubts about God's existence I prayed to him
for my hair to grow quickly. Can't do any harm – unless
He gets annoyed at people like me just using Him.
To take my mind off my hair problem and pass the
time, spent most of the day watching MTV. Saw my
favourite band Smashed to Pieces doing a concert in
London.
Jason looked fantastic with his sun-bleached hair, eyes so
blue they're almost navy and a slim muscular body to die for. He peeled off
his shirt during the concert – because he'd just got too hot, not a
totally crass show-off thing – so you could see his smooth tanned chest
and washboard abs. Mmmm. Stephanie says all these guys wax their chest hairs
and use different shades of spray tan to make exaggerated fake abs, but I
don't think Jason is shallow and vain like that. The concert was in aid of
the environment, for God's sake. That's how serious and responsible he is.
No, Jason is just naturally fantastic-looking.
Remembered Liz had a DVD of him – well, him and
the rest of the band. Must ask her for a loan of it.
Since I'd the house to myself again I watched the DVD
over and over all day. Mmmm.
I turned it off just before Mum got back and pretended
to do homework while moaning about how much stuff
teachers expected us to do out of school time this term.
Felt a bit guilty as Mum let me off my usual jobs of setting
the table for dinner and stacking the dishwasher afterwards
as I was 'so busy'. But really, I hadn't asked her to,
had I?
After dinner Mum and Dad went to the pub because
there was a quiz on (any excuse) and Angela said she
didn't want to watch anything on TV, so I settled down to
watch my DVD again. God, Jason really was just so
hot
.
Had just got to the bit where he takes his shirt off when
Angela came in and said, 'Kelly Ann, could I have word
with you?'
'I haven't borrowed your mascara again, you must
have lost it,' I said, without taking my eyes off the screen.
'It's not that,' Angela said. 'I already found it in your
blazer pocket two days ago. I just wanted to ask your
advice about something.'
I looked up at her now. 'You wanted to ask my advice?'
'Well, yes. It's not something I want to discuss with
Mum or Dad and you are my sister after all. It's . . . it's
about Graham.'
I paused the DVD. 'Graham?'
'Yes, he's been texting me. For quite a while now
actually. He says he misses me and wants to talk things
over.'
Oh God. Please no. OK, I know he isn't as bad as
David but that isn't saying much. No way did I want
Angela's boring ex back now.
'What did you say?' I asked anxiously.
'Nothing yet. The thing is, I'm not sure I could ever
forgive him, Kelly Ann. He's hurt me too much.'
'Course you couldn't,' I said, relieved. 'Just remember
the stinking toilet. That should put you off.'
'You're right, Kelly Ann. I could never go back to anyone
so insensitive.'
'Totally. Just ignore the tosser.'
'Yes. That's just what he is. And a selfish pig too.'
'And a complete bore.'
'Well, I didn't find him boring . . . But yes, maybe he
was a bit, now you mention it. You're right, Kelly Ann: he
was nothing but an insensitive, selfish, boring tosser.'
'Totally.'
'I'll text him that I never want to see him again, then
I'll go and have a nice relaxing bath.'
'Good idea.'
What a relief. Angela obviously realizes at last what a
sad nerd Graham really is. There's absolutely no chance
she'd ever get together with him again now.
I pressed the play button and settled back to watch
Jason again. Mmmm.
Was only halfway through when the doorbell rang.
Angela was upstairs still having her bath so I had to
answer it. Bollocks. Who could it be at this time?
Was gobsmacked and annoyed to find Graham on the
doorstep, all dressed in beige as usual. He looked
surprised too.
'Christ, what happened to your hair?' he said.
I scowled at him. 'Fell out with horror when I heard
you were texting my sister again. What do you want?'
'Is Angela here? I need to talk to her.'
'She's in the bath. A bath she can enjoy without wearing
a gas mask now that you're not around.'
He flushed but I wasn't sure whether it was from
shame or annoyance. 'I'll wait until she's finished. Can I
come inside?'