Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 09 (16 page)

He looked up and smiled toward the window and then he blew a kiss and said, “Perhaps she wants to join in.”

Ohmygiddygod, how horrific is that as an idea? Now I am involved in Europorn!

When I went into the house I heard Mum scampering into the kitchen and then as I closed the door she called out, “Georgia, is that you?”

I said, “Mum, I saw your head bobbing around like a budgie.”

She came out of the kitchen and said, “He is quite categorically gorgey.”

I didn't say anything, I just went up to my bedroom in a dignitosity at all times way.

midnight

Ah well, Angus is on the road to recovery, he is sleeping comfortably on my head. And as a precaution against him tumbling off and waking himself up, he has his claws lightly stuck into my scalp.

thursday september 15th

It is vair vair hard work being the girlfriend of a Luuurve God. Constant grooming is required, the public expects it. However, as I do not wish to be flogged to within an inch of my life by the fascists (Hawkeye, etc.) I have not applied any makeup. Just put on a touch of foundation, lip gloss and mascara. And a teeny white eyeliner line round the inside of my eyes to make my eyes look gorgey and marvy and uuumph.

I made the ace gang huddle round me when we got near Stalag 14 so that I am not victimized by the Hitler Youth.

stalag 14

When I got to the school gates this morning Masimo was there waiting for me with a present! Honestly! How romantico is that?
Molto molto
romantico. It was a bottle of perfume from Italy called Sorrento.

I've never been bought perfume before. Libby made me some perfume from rose petals and milk but that is not the same. Especially as Gordy drank it.

All the girls were going mental, flicking their hair and doing mad pouting around him. It felt
quite groovy. I was doing my shy smiling and looking up and looking down business, with just a touch of flicky hair, nothing like the other fools around me. I thought maybe he would kiss my hand and zoom off but then he snogged me! Full-frontal snogging in front of everyone. And by everyone I mean Hawkeye.

As Masimo took off she appeared like the Bride of Dracula, shouting, “Georgia Nicolson!! You are an absolute disgrace, and a shame to your uniform. What kind of an example are you to the younger girls, behaving like a prostitute in front of them, what on earth will they think?”

Actually I could have told her what they thought because as I slunk off to see Slim for part two of the ranting and raving, the little titches passed by and went, “Coooorrrr, Miss,” and winked.

As Wet Lindsay escorted me to Slim's office, she said, “You appalling tart. Personally I think Masimo should get some charity award for even touching you.”

Oh, I hate her. I hate her so much you could bottle it.

Slim rambled and jelloided on for three million and half centuries. “Blah blah, terrible example…blah blah…shouldn't be canoodling with boys…
plenty of time for that…in my day…no canoodling until we were eighty-five, etc., etc.,…”

r.e.
9:45 a.m.

When I finally escaped with double detention I went and sat down next to Rosie and she sent me a jellybaby and a note,

“Did the nasty jelly lady scare you with her chins?”

I wrote back.

“No but she did say canoodle.”

I feel a bit sick.

art room

OK, on the dark side I have double detention but on the bright side I am a bit perked up because I am wearing my new Italian perfume given to me by my groovy gravey boyfriend. And I am amongst my besties, the ace gang, doing an art project on the camping fiasco. Instead of proper lessons.

What larks!!!

Miss Wilson is beside herself with excitement, again. This has been a big week for her creativitosity wise. First her puppet version of
Rom and Jul
and now the camping fiasco project. Her
bob is practically dancing the tango.

Jas is also vair vair excited. Also she is walking funny. Sort of floating along and shaking her hair about. Why?

thirty seconds later

Oh, I know what she is doing, she is walking in what she fondly imagines is an Elizabethan way. But actually looks like someone with the terminal droop.

She has brought in her collection of newt drawings and some jamjars of frog spawn.

I said to her, “Jas, that is not frog spawn, it is clearly a bit of snot in a jamjar.”

She didn't even bother to reply.

I am making a hat out of leaves.

Rosie said, “What is that?”

I said, “It is a hat made of leaves and so on. It is a triumphant celebration of the great outdoors.”

Rosie said, “No, it is not, it is some old leaves and it is WUBBISH.”

Yes, well, that is as maybe, but it is better than her “natural orchestra,” which is essentially a bit of rice in some tins and a couple of spoons.

Herr Kamyer popped by and Miss Wilson went into a spectacular ditherama at the sight of her “
traum
boy.”

I must tell her about the snogging scale in German so that she is ready, should Herr Kamyer leap on her for a spot of No 3.
Abschiedskuss
.

five minutes later

Jas was actually humming “The hills are alive with the sound of pants” as she arranged her jamjars.

I said to her, “Jas, do you know what ‘snot' is in German? It is
Schnodder
. Comedy gold, isn't it, the German language?”

She said, “Shhh.”

I said, “Do you know what shhhh is in Lederhosen talk?”

But she started humming even louder.

two minutes later

In a spontaneous outburst of madnosity Rosie has joined in with Jas's humming and started singing “The hills are alive with the sound of pants,” accompanying herself on rice tin and spoons. She was singing, “The hills are alive with the sound of pants, with pants I have worn for a thousand years!!!”

It was very infectious. I started improvising a Woodland wonderland dance which involved a lot of high kicking and leaf work.

We were yelling, “I go to the pants when my heart is lonely—” when Herr Kamyer put his foot down with a firm hand.

He shouted, “Girls, girls, ve will not continue ze project if this kafuffle goes on!! Vat is the big funniness
mit
pants?”

We stopped eventually but I said under my breath, “
Kackmist
.” Which means buggeration. Oh what a hoot and a half.

4:20 p.m.

Oh goddygod God, how boring is detention. Miss Stamp was my guard. I am sure she was grooming her moustache as I wrote out, “A predilection for superficiality leads remorselessly toward an altercation with authority.”

A million times (ish).

But I have my German book on my knee.

Tee hee.

Canoodling is “
rummachen
.”

Absolute top comedy magic.

5:30 p.m.

Freedom, freedom!!!

I skipped out of the school gates. And did a bit
of ad hoc skipping down the hill past the park.

Which is when Dave the Laugh emerged from the park loos!!
Caramba!
I stopped skipping but it was too late. He said, “Excellent independent nunga-nunga work, Georgia.”

He had just been playing footie and was a bit sweaty. His hair was all damp. I quite liked it. He's got a nice smell. Not doggy cheesy.

He walked along with me and said, “What have you been up to?”

I didn't mention exactly why I had been kept behind. Well, actually I lied. I said that I had been given detention because I had done an improvised dance to “The hills are alive with the sound of pants.”

He said, “Top work.”

I felt a bit bad about lying, but on the other hand I didn't want to say that I had been punished for snogging Masimo at the school gates.

four minutes later

Dave does make me laugh. I told him about the German snogging scale and he was nodding and going, “
Oh ja, oh ja!!! Ich liebe das frontal Knutschen. Ich bin der Vati!
”

Then he said, “You don't fancy a spot of
rum
machen unter der halten
, do you? Just for old times' sake?”

I said, “Dave, how dare you speak to me like that.”

And he said, “You know you love it, you cheeky
Fräulein
.”

I just walked off quickly. I have my pridenosity.

He caught me up and said, “Stop trying to get off with me.”

I was amazed.

“Er, Dave, I think you will find that it was you who asked to
rummachen.
”

“No, it wasn't.”

“Er, yes, it was, Dave.”

“No, you thrust yourself at me. Because you cannot resist me. It is sad.”

I stopped and looked at him.

“Dave, I can resist you, I have an Italian Luuurve God as a boyfriend.”

Dave said, “Oh, he is so clearly gay.”

“Dave, he is not gay.”

“He has a light blue leather coat.”

“That does not make him gay, it makes him Italian.”

Dave said, “I rest my case.”

I looked at him. And then he just bent down and
looked at me. He had lovely lips and I sort of forgot where I was for a minute. I felt my lips puckering up and—then he pushed me away from him so that I nearly fell over.

He said, “Look, Georgia, stop it, try and control yourself, you are making a fool of yourself.”

I was speechless. What, what??? I didn't know what to do. I was so amazed, so I shoved him quite hard. He looked at me. And then he shoved me quite hard back. And I fell over. I got up and went and shoved him again.

He said, “Look, leave me alone, your girlfriend will be really cross and get his matching leather handbag out.”

He is sooo annoying. I was just marching over to shove him again when Masimo whizzed up on his scooter.

Dave waved at him and as he went off he said, “Oooh, she doesn't look very pleased.”

And in fact he was right, Masimo did look a bit cross. He smiled when I came over, though, and said, “
Ciao
…you are fighting with Dave?”

I said, “Erm…no, it was just that, er, he was showing me how he, er, scored a goal. And he was saying that he and his girlfriend, Emma, are coming to the Stiff Dylans gig.”

Masimo looked a bit confused but then he said, “Come, I will take you for a coffee.”

coffee bar

I feel like a prat and a fool. I have just dashed to the loos to put makeup on. Funny, I didn't remember I hadn't any on when I was with Dave. So I've done the lippy mascara thing, but there is not much I can do about my uniform. I hope I don't see anyone I know.

one hour later

I tried to explain the German snogging scale thing to Masimo and he laughed but I don't think he really gets it.

at home

Oh God, it was like twenty questions when I got home. Where have you been? Blah blah blah, school finishes at four p.m., it's now eight p.m. That's a four-hour gap. I made the mistake of saying to Dad, “Dad, I am not a child.” And he could then ramble on saying stuff like, “No, you can say that again, you are not a child, you are a spawn of the devil.” Etc., etc.

in my bedroom
10:30 p.m.

I tell you this, I'm not the only spawn of the devil in my family. Some complete fool (my dad) has bought my sister (also known as the littlest spawn of the devil) a “hilarious” fishing souvenir. It is a stuffed fish on a stand, and when you press a button it starts squiggling around doing a trout dance and singing “Maybe it's BECOD I'm a Londoner.” Over and over again.

10:50 p.m.

Libby lobes it. It is her new besty. And new besties always sleep in my bed.

10:52 p.m.

Bibs is fast asleep but I'm not because I have fins sticking up my nostrils.

11 p.m.

Also, why has she still got her wellies on?

11:05 p.m.

Oh God, now Angus has come into my room and is trying to get onto the bed.

11:12 p.m.

I'm going to have to get out of bed and haul him in. He's already crashed into the dressing table twice and is now in the wastepaper basket. I'll be glad when his tail is back to normal.

11:20 p.m.

So, here we all are then. Tucked up together, Libby, Mr. Fish, Angus, a jar of potted fish (Libby's snacks for Mr. Fish) and me, hanging on to half an inch of bed.

11:28 p.m.

But I'm happy. I have a Luurve God as a boyfriend!!! Yes, yes, and thrice times yes! Or
sì
,
sì
, and thrice-io
sì
, as I must learn to say.

11:30 p.m.

Wait till I tell the Luurve God about the Mr. Fish episode tomorrow when he picks me up at Stalag 14. I bet he will laugh like the proverbial drain-io.

11:35 p.m.

Perhaps I will save the Mr. Fish story because he didn't exactly fall about when I told him about the German snogging scale.

11:40 p.m.

Dave the Laugh did, though. He thought it was a hoot and a half.

11:45 p.m.

How dare he insinuate I was a cheeky
Fräulein
? If anyone's a cheeky
Fräulein
, he is. And he said that I was thrusting myself after him, but it was him who asked to
rummachen
. Anyway, shut up, brain. I'm not thinking about Dave the so-called Laugh.

midnight

I think Masimo is a bit jealous of Dave. Tee-hee. I'm a boy-entrancing vixen.

12:30 p.m.

Oh, dear God, I've accidentally set Mr. Fish off. How disgusting to have it writhing around in bed and singing. I will never sleep at this rate, it is like Piccadilly Cir…zzzzzzz.