Planet Janet (9 page)

Three Reasons Why Disha Paski’s
My Best Friend
:

(1) She’s intelligent and loyal.

(2) We’re into all the same things.

(3) Disha told Elvin that the reason I ran off like that yesterday was because I suddenly remembered it was the afternoon I worked in the local Oxfam shop. It was a pretty brilliant lie. She said he was suitably impressed, being the serious sort. I just hope he never asks me where the shop I work in is, since I haven’t a clue. Except for when the MC used to take me to charity shops when I was little and didn’t know any better, I’ve never been to one in my life. They smell. And also Siranee’s sister’s friend got bugs from a second-hand jumper once.

I think I may start keeping a list of Most Unromantic Sexual Encounters. Forget the garden shed and the back of a car. Boris Becker knocked up some model in a broom cupboard. I couldn’t believe it either, but it was on the radio so it must be true. He was in some well posh Chinese restaurant, and between courses or something he followed this model into the cupboard and nine months later he’s a dad. Boris Becker! He’s always dressed in white so you sort of think of him as a good guy. I’m beginning to think that if you’re going to have a role model you should probably pick someone who’s already dead so they can’t disappoint you. Disha says not to forget President Clinton when I start my list. She says she knows power’s meant to be a turn-on, but she doesn’t think the Oval Office with armed guards outside and all those phones would put
her
in the mood.

Lila’s parents are going away for a romantic weekend so Lila’s decided to have a valentine party tomorrow night, despite what happened last time. I wish Sigmund and the Mad Cow would go away for a LONG romantic weekend, but even if they weren’t AT WAR and might possibly do such a thing they’d have to take Nan with them, so there’s no use hoping. Marcus asked me if I was going to Lila’s and I said yes, of course – even though I have NOTHING to wear. He’s going to pick me up so we can walk over together. I said that was great. I told Disha to meet us at mine.

Disha’s had a BRILLIANT idea! She thinks I should send Catriona Hendley a valentine and make her think it’s from Flynn. Lila, who’s a v good friend of Catriona’s, told Disha that Catriona used to have the hots for Flynn, but even though he hangs out with her a lot (because her parents own a heated pool and a snooker table!) he’s never asked her out. That should take Catriona’s mind off Elvin for a bit. Disha said what we should do is write an F on the card, and then partly cover it over with a sticker so it looks like he started to sign it and then tried to hide it. Then she said we should send Flynn one from Catriona too. Disha shows a remarkable talent for subterfuge.

Even though my nose still looks a bit red and has a tendency to leak, I went over to Disha’s this afternoon because Elvin was going to be there. I was very cool. This time I didn’t run out of the kitchen; this time I sat down. Elvin and Calum are going to make a film together, probably in the summer if everything works out right. (Apparently there’s much more to making a movie than putting film in the camera.) They talked a lot about it. I think it’s sort of a documentary about people. We fixed toasted cheese sandwiches. Elvin and I made a great deal of eye contact. He even asked me a couple of questions: why I became a vegetarian, what my favourite subject is, and if I have a brother (because the meat industry is irresponsible and motivated only by profit, which is what Sappho always says; art and English, but I wish we had a film course; and, yes). He said he thought he’d heard of my brother. I told him that was virtually impossible. I’m well chuffed that I had the sense to hide in McDonald’s even though I have no idea how to get ketchup out of my combat trousers.

Flynn rang for a chat. As you know, I usually flirt with Flynn, but I was still thinking about Elvin and didn’t have the energy. It’s funny, isn’t it? When you have no single object of your desire, you can flirt with anyone, but as soon as your heart begins to yearn to see that one face you lose interest in the others. At least that’s the way it is for me. And also my nose really hurts. You don’t feel like flirting when your nose really hurts.

Went shopping with Disha this afternoon. She wanted to get something to go with her red skirt for the party tonight (we reckon we can be exempt from the DP just this once – after all, even Great Artists and Writers do
Fall in Love
, even if it’s only TRAGICALLY). I, of course, could buy NOTHING. I have to save all my money for a bike, and no one else would give me any. (Not even Justin. He’s left the photos of Jocelyn and Robert Bandry sleeping at Andrew’s, so it’s my word against his.) I offered to do errands for Nan for a nominal charge and she accused me of being worse than a money changer in a temple. I even tried to borrow a tenner from Justin, but he wasn’t having it either. He said that I still owed him fifty quid from the summer. I pointed out that I’d only borrowed a fiver that time. He said it was fifty quid with interest. (Rest assured, the skies over London will be choked with pigs before he sees any of that!!!) Anyway, Disha and I went to the West End. I was so distraught over my poverty that I forgot to bring my mobe and Disha’s was at home charging, so she had to use a phone box to ring her mother and find out what it was she was meant to pick up for her. You couldn’t even see out of the box, there were so many cards plastered all over the glass. And they’re not like minicab cards (you know, name, phone number and maybe a drawing of a car). They’re full-colour photographs with whips and stuff like that. Disha said she doesn’t know why they bother putting porn magazines on the top shelf of the newsagent’s when the phone boxes are wallpapered with the same sorts of pictures. She said Sappho must never come to the West End, because if she did there wouldn’t be a box left standing. I asked Disha if she thought they were ALL prostitutes, or if some of them really were masseuses and personal trainers. Disha said she hoped I was joking. It was just that there seemed to be SO MANY. Disha said well, there would be, wouldn’t there? You don’t need any qualifications, you make more than you would working in Woolworths, and you don’t have to pay tax. All you have to worry about is not catching some fatal disease or being beaten up or murdered. I think prostitution in general has to go on my Most Unromantic Sexual Encounters list. It makes the giant chicken job look good if you ask me. There’s obviously a lot more to sex than you’d think. Or a lot less.

Walked past a bike shop on the way home. I couldn’t believe the prices! I could buy a motorized scooter for that! Disha said I should look for a second-hand one in
Loot
.

When Sigmund saw the hole in my door where I tried to put on the lock he lost it completely, as per usual. Blah blah blah. It’s hard to believe he gets paid to LISTEN to people. I’ve never heard him keep his mouth shut for more than two seconds. He says I’ve TOTALLY ruined the door and that now he’ll have to get a new one – and God Knows How Much That’s Going to Cost. I said to make sure he got one with a lock.

I practically rubbed my fingers to the bone trying to get the ketchup out of my new trousers, but you can still see it, so I bought a bottle of black dye to hide the stain. It looks pretty easy. You just dump it all in the washing machine.

Marcus was late picking us up last night, which was just as well since I had to change FIVE times before I found something presentable to wear. I tried on the Chinese skirt I got in the market, but it must’ve shrunk or something because it was too tight. Ditto my pink Lycra. Even Disha said I looked like an overstuffed sausage. I can’t possibly be gaining weight, even though I’m not STRICTLY on my diet any more because I don’t really eat anything but vegetables. Finally remembered the MC’s black silk skirt (mercifully she was out), which is both casual and sophisticated and went PERFECTLY with the bat top. When Marcus arrived he was wearing a pink bow tie and carrying a single red rose. (Even Disha said he looked pretty good.) I acted overwhelmed. “For ME?!! Oh, you shouldn’t have!” He said, “Sweets for the sweet; roses for the thorny.” (He can be pretty funny.) Marcus said that if he’d known he was escorting two devastatingly beautiful women to Lila’s and not just one he would’ve bought another rose. He reckoned he could’ve got a deal on two. We were just about to leave, when Flynn turned up. (I forgot he also said he wanted to walk over with me.) Flynn was wearing a red shirt (no tie), but he had a rose too (they must’ve been giving them away at the end of the road). I think he thought Marcus’s rose was for Disha, because he whipped it out of my hand and thrust it at her. And then he gave me the one he’d brought.

It wasn’t until we got to Lila’s that I understood why I’d been SO PARTICULAR about what I was wearing. My psychic self must’ve been picking up messages from the Earth Goddess because guess who was already there when we arrived! Yes! Oh YES YES YES!!! Fate is with me! It was none other than Elvin Whatever His Name Is. My heart did a double flip and the rest of the room faded around him. I was glad the lighting was low, because I could feel myself blushing (which is something I usually only do when I’m out in public with members of my family). Elvin was talking to Catriona. (Of course! She would’ve known he was going to be there, wouldn’t she? She’s not one to miss an opportunity! It doesn’t even have to knock. She sees it coming, opens the door and hauls it in.) There was a bunch of other people with them at the back of the room. I pretended not to see them, and gave Marcus my jacket to stick in the bedroom. Flynn said he’d do it, and whipped it out of Marcus’s hands. Marcus snatched it back and marched off. Within seconds, Elvin was coming towards us (towards me!). I was practically
Swooning with Happiness
, but I didn’t let it show. Still acting like I hadn’t seen Elvin, I stood as close to Flynn as I could without actually hugging him. (If a bloke’s interested, he’ll be even more interested if he thinks he’s not the only one. I’m not sure where I read that, but Sara Dancer says it’s true.) It sort of worked. It was definitely a V AWKWARD moment. Only it wasn’t Elvin who started to bristle like a dog that’s just seen another dog – it was Flynn. I could feel him get taller. And then Marcus came back and latched himself onto my other side. I felt like I was wedged between two Roman columns or something. Elvin (being a sensitive Leo) must’ve realized that F and M were being all male territorial because I’ve been friends with them for so long, because after the usual friendly greetings, instead of bringing up the bike ride or anything like that, he asked me if Flynn was my brother! Flynn wanted to know if he
looked
like my brother, and Elvin said he wouldn’t know since he’s never met my brother. Elvin and I thought that was v funny. As soon as Elvin went back to Catriona and her motley crew, Marcus asked who he was. Then he mumbled something about Elvin always hanging around. Disha and I watched Catriona and Flynn (subtly, of course) to see if they made eye contact or anything. AND GUESS WHAT? It was all we could do not to laugh out loud! Flynn kept looking over at her so much that he barely kept up with the conversation, and she cast more than one thoughtful look his way too. I suppose it was just as well for everybody’s concentration that Elvin left early and Catriona left the room (though not the building, sadly). But despite the fact that Elvin left really early and I didn’t get a chance to talk to him again, I had a pretty good time. At Lila’s Hallowe’en party the only person who danced with me was her cousin from Glasgow, whose concept of dancing was to jump straight up and down in the air like a Jack Russell. This time, however, I had two boys to dance with – usually, as it turned out, together. They’re both REALLY good dancers. I found it very exhausting, though, so when Marcus went into his John Travolta routine, and then Flynn went into his, I slipped away and sat down. It took them EONS to notice.

Mr Burl next door was backing his scooter out of his front garden as we got to my house. I closed the gate for him. Marcus and Flynn came in for a cup of tea. After they left I told Disha how hostile Marcus and Flynn were to Elvin. Disha thinks they both thought they were going to the party with me. I said she was mad. I’d remember if one of them asked me out. Anyway, what about Flynn and Catriona? Their eyes were drawn to each other like magnets. Disha said she’d forgotten about Flynn and Catriona. So maybe it was just Marcus after all. D said it would serve me right for practically licking his boots in McDonald’s the other day.

The Mad Cow’s having dinner with Sappho and Mags, Sigmund’s grouping (left-handed red-headed dyslexic unwed fathers with one blue eye probably), and Justin’s gone out, leaving me grandmother-sitting, AS PER USUAL. Fortunately Nan’s nodded off in front of the telly, so now’s my chance to dye my combats without her telling me how Jesus would do it.

Found the roses Marcus and Flynn brought under the table in the hall, still in their wrappers but already withered and dead.
Love
and
Death
. I reckon they’re the two greatest themes in art and literature – as well as in life. And it made me realize how short life really is. We are all born to die (I don’t know if some poet wrote that line before I did, but I think it’s pretty good). At least the roses had their moments of beauty. (That’s more than my mother ever had!) I took a couple of petals to press in my diary, and then I chucked them in the bin.

Last night I dreamed that I was at this barbecue (like in Texas or somewhere like that). There were whole cows turning over the coals. And you should’ve seen the burgers! They looked like meteors! I was sweating when I woke up. It’s weeks since I became a vegetarian, and all I’ve had besides vegetables is fish and chicken (and that little bit of mince). And my parents think I don’t stick to anything!

There must be something wrong with the washing machine. The combats didn’t exactly come out the way I thought. The trousers are brilliant, but the stitching didn’t take the dye, so I’ve got these really cool BLACK trousers with almost WHITE stitching. It is v passé. And not exactly my image.