Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 09 (13 page)

It was so sad, he had been the king of leaping and balancing. His days of riding the Prat brothers around like little horsies was over. I could feel my eyes filling up.

Dr. Beardey said, “It's his tail, he can't balance properly whilst it is all bandaged up. He'll be OK when the bandage comes off.”

Oh, Allah be praised!!!

(Er, sorry about that, Baby Jesus. I don't know why I came over a bit Muslim then, but we are all in the same cosmic gang, after all. Clearly I have my favorite, which is Baby Jesus, but generally I am a fan of the whole caboodle. In case any of them are also omnipotent like Big G.)

back home

Angus has just crashed into the cat flap when he was trying to get through it. Oh, I am so happy. I told Jas on the phone.

She went, “Ahuhu ahuh.”

But not in a caring and listening way.

Then she said, “I don't know how you manage without a boyfriend. Who do you tell stuff to?”

I said, “Jas, I tell stuff to my little pallies. Like you. Anyway, can I stop you before you go off on a
Moaning for Britain campaign? I am going to ring round and we can have a joint celebration day for the recovery of Angus and also the reinvention of—glove animal!!!”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“Oh no.”

“Jas, this is lots of fun chatting with you and so on—but we are meeting at mine in half an hour, so you had better dash. Pip pip.”

round at mine

I have made all of the gang coffee and jammy dodgers as we need nourishment to prepare us for the beginning of another term at Stalag 14.

two hours later

My ribs are hurting from laughing. I had forgotten how much fun you can get out of a beret and a pair of gloves—It was Rosie's impression of Inspector Glove Animal of the Yard that made me laugh the most. She put on the beret and pinned the gloves underneath it as ears, and then popped her beard
on and started puffing on her pipe.

It was vair vair
amusant
. I said, “I think Hawkeye will appreciate the creativitinosity that we have brought to what is in fact a boring old beret.”

Jas said, “She won't appreciate it. She will just give us immediate detention.”

I looked at her with my eyebrows raised.

“Jas, I hope you are not being the cold bucket of water girl.”

Jas was going on in Rambling mode. “Well, it's so silly.”

Rosie went over to her and took out her pipe.

“Jas, are you suggesting that I look silly?”

Oh, I laughed.

To release our girlish high spirits we danced around to loud music in my bedroom and then we lay down panting on the sofa.

Ellen is going on a proper second date with Declan, and Rollo bought Jools her very own rattle for supporting him at his footie matches. She is secretly thrilled, I think, although she said she would rather have had chocolates and lip gloss.

sunday september 11th

11:30 p.m.

In bed. And my bedroom is a Libby-free zone. I've got Stalag 14 tomorrow and I want to be in tip-top condition to face the Hitler Youth (prefects) and General Fascists (staff) and the Lesbians (Miss Stamp) and other assorted loons (Herr Kamyer, Elvis, Miss Wilson, Slim our beloved huge headmistress and—well, everyone else there, really).

monday september 12th

7:00 a.m.

Oh, I can't believe the hols are over and it is back to long dark hours of boredom and—er…that's it. Still it's now only two days until Masimo gets back. Yarooooo!!!!

in the bathroom
7:25 a.m.

I was just about to wash my face with the special face washing soap when I realized it wasn't there. How was I supposed to cleanse and tone, etc., if people kept moving my soap? I went into the kitchen and said to Mum, “Have you been using my special soap, which is specially mine especially for me?”

She didn't even look round. “No.”

I looked in at Angus. He and Gordy were in the same basket and they were both frothing at the mouth.

7:40 a.m.

Why would a cat eat soap? Why?

8:30 a.m.

Walking really, really slowly up the hill toward Hell.

Jas hasn't phoned Tom and he has phoned her twice and she has pretended that she wasn't in.

I said, just to check, “Er, Jas, you know how you pretended that you weren't in? Well, you didn't answer the phone and say ‘I'm not in,' did you?”

She hit me over the head with her rucky, which is a bit violent, I think. It is as well I luuurve her.

We are not doing Glove Animal today, we are keeping the element of surprise. Hawkeye and the Hitler Youth will be on high alert at the moment. All full of energy after the summer break. All pepped up for mass brutality and girl hating so we are going to lull them into a false sense of security by being good this week. And then going all out headgear wise next week.

8:38 a.m.

The fascist regime has already started. As we came through the school gates Hawkeye was there
like a guard dog and she had a tape measure!! Honestly! She was making sure that our skirts were an inch below the knee. Anyone who had turned over their skirt at the waist was given an immediate reprimand for their trouble. I may write to my MP or the European King or whatever.

Fortunately, I knew Hawkeye would be picking on me (as she has a specially developed hating muscle all for me), so I had pulled my skirt down over my knees once we were in sight of Stalag 14's perimeter fence.

Melanie Griffiths, world renowned for her enormous out-of-control nungas, was just ahead of me and Hawkeye pounced. Fair enough because Melanie's skirt was practically up her bum-oley.

Hawkeye had a nervy spaz attack. “Melanie, I would have expected better from you, and frankly with your shape, you would do well to go for the longer look, anyway.”

I said to Jas, “Actually I don't think that Melanie has rolled her skirt up, I think that her arse has grown and that has lifted the hemline.”

As we shuffled off to hang our coats up I grumbled to the rest of the gang, “I bet they don't have people measuring bloody skirts in schools in
Pizza-a-gogo land, I bet they don't even wear skirts at schools there, they are so liberal. I bet they wear fur miniskirts or leatherette hotpants.”

Actually I hope they don't, Masimo might quite like that. Oooohhhh, I can't wait for him to come back.

assembly

Oh, hello to the wonderful world of mass boredom and
merde
. Wet Lindsay and her sidefool Astonishingly Dull Monica were lurking around on prefect duty. They love frightening the first formers. Telling them their shoes are wrongly laced up and so on.

Wet Lindsay looked at me and said something to ADM and they both laughed. I didn't care, though, I have an Italian Luuurve God as a boyfriend. And more importantly I have got a forehead.

We were just queuing up to go through the doors into the main hall and listen to Slim our revered headmistress bore for England when the two Little Titches came bounding up. I haven't seen the titches, also known as Dave the Laugh's fan club, since the last Stiff Dylans gig. They were all flushed and excited and the (slightly) less titchy one said to me, “Hello…hello, miss. We've
got new trainers, we'll show you them later. And we saw Dave the Laugh yesterday at the shopping center, he went into Boots and we followed him and he was getting some moisturizer and then we asked him for his autograph and he signed my maths book. He put three kisses and a drawing of a monkey.”

Wet Lindsay shouted out, “You two lower-school girls get back in line and stop talking. Georgia Nicolson, take a reprimand for encouraging the younger girls to break school rules.”

What, what? I had got a reprimand for standing in line while some tiny nutcases told me about their new shoes. Where was the justice in that?

God, I hate her. In fact she has made me deffo decide to split her and Robbie up, somehow. It is my civic duty. Also if I can accidentally on purpose bend her stupid bendy stick insecty legs round her neck, I will most certainly take the opportunity.

As we shuffled to our places I whispered to Jas out of the corner of my mouth, “I hate her, she is definitely as dead as a dead thing on dead tablets. Also forgive me if I am right but Dave the Laugh seems to have acquired his own personal stalkers.”

fifteen minutes later

Roro really made me laugh during prayers because she dug me in the ribs and when I looked at her she had on those comedy glasses that have no lenses but do have a false nose with big black eyebrows. I couldn't stop laughing and then she did it to the rest of the gang, so we had group shoulder heaving. I managed to pull myself together for the final amen.

I could see Wet Lindsay looking over our way, but she could only see Rosie from the side so she didn't get the full bushy eyebrow effect, otherwise it would have been detention all round. What larks!

Also the hymn was a top opportunity for “pants” work.

The words were “I long for you Lord as the deer PANTS for the rain.”

The volume went up about a million when we sang “pants.”

four minutes later

Oh, go on a bit, why don't you, Slim. “Blah blah blah, visitors saying girls looked like prostitutes wearing short skirts, makeup, etc., etc…. all girls going to be hung, drawn and quartered if they
don't keep to school dress codes, blah blah. A lady does not show her knickers underneath her skirt.”

Oh, I am so bored. Slim had worked herself up into such a state that I thought her chins were going to drop off. Also
vis-à-vis
fashion, etc., I am not sure that I would wear an orange dress if I were eighty-four stone. She must get them specially made. By a sadist.

Then she said, “Well, girls, now let us pass on to more pleasant matters. As you know, before the summer holidays the upper fifth were lucky enough to be taken on a camping trip by Herr Kamyer and Miss Wilson. I gather that they had a marvelous time. Is that true, upper fifth?”

Me and Rosie and the gang were murmuring, “Yes, oh yes. Are you mad? Yes, yes, cheese and onion,” and rubbish but so that you couldn't really hear it. Only Jas and her sad mates were shouting stuff like, “It was great.”

Bloody swotty voley knicker types.

Then Slim asked Herr Kamyer and Miss Wilson to come up to the stage. Miss Wilson looked like she was wearing her pre-Christmas cardigan, I swear, it had reindeers on it. And Herr Kamyer had on a tweed suit and an unusual tie (knitted) and
his trousers hovered proudly at ankle level, revealing attractive matching socks.

Good grief. I whispered to Jools, “It's lovely young love, isn't it?”

She just looked at me.

Herr Kamyer went first. He said, “Vell, ve had ze very gut time viz the fun and larfs. Didn't ve, girls?”

We all went, “Whatever, mumble mumble.”

Miss Wilson took over the dithering baton then.

“It was most enjoyable. During the day we drew interesting sketches of the varied wildlife and explored our environs.”

Rosie went “Oo-er,” which nearly made me wet myself but no one else heard.

Miss Wilson was back in the exciting world of tents and voles, rambling on. “But the evenings were in many ways the best times, we made our own entertainment.”

Slim interrupted, “Always the most enjoyable.”

Miss Wilson said, “Indeed.”

God, it was like a hideous teacher love-in.

Then Herr Kamyer got the giddy goat and started being enthusiastic. “Yah, ve played some
of the games I haf played when I was camping in ze Black Forest. We did the shadow animals game and Miss Vilson sang mit der girls and made ze vair
gut spangelferkel
.”

Oh dear God, I knew it wouldn't be long before we were back on the sausage trail.

Actually I didn't mind idling time away with sausages and mad Germans because we had French first lesson and I wanted to avoid Madame Slack for as long as I could because she hates me.

As Herr Kamyer and Miss Wilson both dithered and fell down the stairs from the stage, Slim said something scary. “Well, I am sure there will be many more expeditions and excitements in the coming terms. Also I think it would be very nice for the whole school to share in the memories of the trip, and so I have suggested that Miss Wilson run an art project with the upper fifth. It will be lovely for them to bring their paintings and sculptures and so on of their feelings and experiences of the camping trip and put them on display here in the main hall.”

Rosie whispered to me, “Will you be bringing your sculpture of your snogging session with Dave the Laugh into the main hall?”

I looked at her cross-eyed and said, “I wonder if Miss Wilson will be reenacting, through the magic of dance, her marvelous standing in a field in the nuddy-pants scenario?”

french

I have
dit
this many times and I will
dite
it again,
qu'est-ce que le point de français
?

I've been to
le
gay Paree, I have experienced
le
mime, I have danced
sur le pont
d'Avignon and even (as Jools reminded me) done my world-famous impression of the Hunchback of Notre Dame outside Notre Dame. But I will not be going again.

This is
moi
point. I go out with an Italian Luuurve God and there is no point in going to France except for cheese. And I do not
aime
cheese, so there you are.

Madame Slack was just waiting to give me a good verbal thrashing and when I innocently said in our conversation section that
“Je préfere l'Italie pour mes vacances and pour l'amour. Je n'aime pas le fromage. Merci. Au revoir.”

She said, “Ah well,
je préfere les students que ne sommes pas les idiots—mais c'est la vie.
Prendez vous le reprimand.
”

Bloody hell, two reprimands and I haven't even had my break-time cheesy wotsits.

lunchtime

I wonder why Dave the Laugh was buying moisturizer from Boots? Perhaps he is on the turn. I may say that to him when I see him.

I may say, “Dave, your skin is sooo soft and smooth, are you on the turn?”

Not that I will be seeing him.

Probably.

german

Rosie has been looking in her new slang book
Pardon My German.
She said to Herr Kamyer, “In my new dictionary it says that a kiss lasting over three minutes is
abschiedskuss
.”

Herr Kamyer quite literally went red all over. And I could clearly see his ankles, so I am sure about this.

He started, “Well, yes, but this language is for slang, and of course one would not say…erm—”

Rosie said helpfully, “
Abschiedskuss
?”

German is quite literally comedy magic.

five minutes later

Piddly diddly is
pipi
.

one minute later

And to poo is
krappe
. Hahahaha.

bell went

As we were scampering back for English (double bubble), I had one of my many vair vair ideas of geniosity. I said, “I know what we can do to stop Herr Kamyer from making us do stuff, let us get him to correct our German translation of the snogging system. That I will be doing during maths.”

afternoon break

Still at bloody school.

Still incarcerated in Stalag 14. Going to school is like going through life backward in time.

I said to the ace gang, “Did you see Miss Wilson choking on her fizzy orange when Herr Kamyer walked past her and asked her if she was wearing a new blouse? She luuurves him. She wants him baaaad. He is quite literally a babe magnet.”

Rosie looked up “babe magnet” in the “German for fools” book.

She said, “Oh ja, he is a
Traum
boy.”

Jools said, “When does Masimo get back?”

I said, “He said the fourteenth.”

Ellen said, “What time, I mean, did he say s'later or ‘give you a bell' or will he, like, give you a bell or will you give him a bell?”

We looked at her.

It is true, though, he didn't say when exactly he would be back. I don't know what time he will be arriving, morning, afternoon or night. Which means essentially I will be on high alert and heavily made up for twenty-four hours a day. And even then he might not call me until the next day. He might have jet lag.

one minute later

I will have to go to bed fully made up and dressed in case he pops round unexpectedly.

one minute later

I have just had a spontaneous pucker up.

english

Miss Wilson announced that we are indeedy going to be doing a school production of
Rom and Jul
this term. And that because of the massive success of
MacUseless
we are going to join forces with the boys' school again. They are going to be our “technical support.” Which in Dave the Laugh's case means he switches all the lights off and people fall off the stage. Yarroooo!!!

We started yelling out, “Oh joy unbounded,” “Three cheers for merry England and all who sail in her,” “Poop poop!” and “For she's a jolly good fellow” until I thought Miss Wilson's bob would explode.