Planet Janet in Orbit (20 page)

Have been in a funk
ALL DAY
. Only left my room to eat and get a cup of tea, etc. Every time the phone went I thought it might be Disha ringing to apologize but it never was. I’m beginning to understand why Sigmund’s not better at his job. I mean, he really couldn’t be, could he? People are a lot less predictable than the random movements of the cosmos. You have more chance of winning the lottery than understanding your
Very Best Friend in the World
.

Despite the fact that I’m taking a break from the Dark Phase, if my life gets any darker I’m going to have to walk round wearing one of those miner’s helmets so I can see where I’m going. Disha
DISSED
me so completely today that I almost thought she’d suddenly gone blind (which I suppose she has – though not
literally
, of course).
Hi, Marcus… Hi, Flynn… Hi, David… Hi, Total Stranger That I’ve Never Spoken to Before…
She didn’t even come to lunch. She told Flynn she was on a diet and was going to spend that period in the library feeding her mind instead! (She’ll be behind the bike shed stuffing her sarnies into her face more like!) It’s not so much the silent treatment as the nothing-at-all treatment. I have ceased to exist. I put a brave face on it, of course, and acted like I didn’t notice (and that if I
did
notice, I wouldn’t care), but inside a
dank, chill wind
was howling through my heart and soul. It’s only the knowledge that I’m
RIGHT
that got me through the day.

Day Three of Nothing at All. Waiting for Disha to come round is obviously like waiting for a 46 bus in a storm. Only with Disha I can’t just walk home; I’m stuck here with rain dripping down my neck and soaking into my shoes.

Too depressed even to open Aunt K’s post. I mean, what’s the point? Maybe Mr Cardogan was right and there’s a lot to be said for spots and fat thighs. At least there are things you can do about physical problems (i.e. eat fresh fruit and vegetables and have liposuction) but I’m beginning to think that the only good advice about personal relationships you can give anyone is:
Abandon hope, all who enter here
!!! Either that or
GET A DOG
.

Not even a pile of letters for Aunt K could cheer me up today. Ms Staples was with me when I picked up Aunt K’s post and she noticed that I stuffed it in my bag without even counting it. She wanted to know if something was wrong – I’ve seemed moody and distracted all week. I said it was just Life. She said that sounded like a Bob Dylan line. (My God! Things are worse than I thought if I’m quoting Bob Dylan!) I said well, he is something of a poet, isn’t he? I said I reckon it’s a bit like Great Minds thinking alike – you know, poets think alike too. She said she still hasn’t read my poems. Well, how could she? I haven’t written them yet. (But you do have to admire Ms Staples’ memory. It’s
months
since I mentioned the poems. You’d think someone over thirty would’ve forgotten it by now.)

There’s nothing like driving round the back streets of north London with an unstable psychotherapist to take your mind off your problems.
Clutch … Brake
…
Faster … Slower … Watch out for that … Watch out for this … Signal, Janet. Signal, Janet … Janet, the gears … No, not the bloody windscreen-wipers!!!
He just never stops! And I was
DEFINITELY
not in the mood for it today! I mean, I’m doing my best, but there’s a lot to remember. It’s not as if I don’t have a
LIFE
! Also, it wasn’t as if I was making
GINORMOUS
mistakes. They were all really piddly (signal right, turn left, etc.). Then this motorbike nearly ploughed into us (they really do come out of
NOWHERE
!). Both Sigmund and the rider lost it completely. Sigmund was screaming at me on one side and
Darth Vader
was shrieking on the other. Neither of them would calm down, so I got out of the car and left them to it. Had to walk home since I wasn’t about to go back and ask Sigmund for the bus fare. The MC wanted to know where he was. I said back on Camden Road as far as I knew. He turned up eventually. My Father the Role Model said that if he had an addictive personality he’d probably be shooting up heroin by now (and they wonder why I can be a bit dramatic at times – where do they think I get it from?). I said he does have an addictive personality – he’s hooked on cigarettes, isn’t he? He banged his head on the fridge. The upshot is that he
REFUSES
to give me any more lessons! I ask you, what sort of example is that meant to be for me, just quitting like that? But, as I’ve said before, Life isn’t all one thing or another. Stomped off to my room to recover from this trauma. Decided
ANEW
that
I NEVER WANT TO BE LIKE MY PARENTS
. I mean really. No wonder Sigmund’s stuck in Kilburn on an army cot, with his attitude. Decided that though there’s nothing I can do about the small ear lobes, that doesn’t mean I also have to inherit Sigmund’s lack of fortitude and determination. Decided I would
FORCE
myself to write Aunt K’s replies to the more practical problems at least and went back to the kitchen for my schoolbag. Arrived just in time to hear the MC invite Sigmund round for Christmas!!! Sigmund said what about the other Mrs Bandry and the MC said of course Nan was invited; it wouldn’t be Christmas without her. Despite the fact that “it wouldn’t be Christmas without Nan” translates as “it wouldn’t be Christmas without a major fight between Sigmund and Nan”, I couldn’t help feeling pretty chuffed about this. Obviously things are going the way I intended between the parents! Set to work on Aunt K’s column with new enthusiasm. Wrote myself another letter about Disha and signed it I Was Only Trying to Help.

Sappho turned up this afternoon with a suitcase. I said don’t tell me Mags threw you out; I didn’t know that happened in same-sex couples. Sappho said
everything
happens in same-sex couples, including arguments over who never fills the ice-cube trays, but that she hasn’t been given the old heave-ho. Mags’s mother is v ill, so she had to go up north to be with her. I said so you decided to move in with us because you’re afraid if you fall on your back while you’re on your own, you won’t be able to get up again? As per usual, I laughed alone. The MC said just wait till
I’m
pregnant and see how funny I think it is. As I’m v discouraged about even
Falling in Love
at this point, I told her it could be a long wait. Apparently there are a lot of things Sappho can’t do round the house because of her ginormous size and all her aches and pains – and Mags doesn’t want her to be on her own in case the baby is early. Then they sprung the
REALLY BIG
surprise on me. Sappho’s having
my
room! I said why couldn’t she kip in Justin’s, and the MC said because Justin only has the futon and not a bed, and we couldn’t expect Sappho to sleep on that (which isn’t true, of course –
I
could expect her to). So I had to move into the Black Hole of Wooster Crescent. It took me all afternoon just to make some room for my stuff and get rid of the boy stink (apparently not noticed by the Deadly Duo – probably because Marcella was talking too much and Lucrezia was shrieking).

When I finally get round to writing the Story of My Life (after I’ve lived it a bit more), this part is going to be called
Janet Bandry and the Chamber of Horrors
! I swear to God Geek Boy’s room is
haunted
! I couldn’t sleep because I was worrying what’s going to happen when the Mad Cow is really old and needs someone to look after her. (I hope she’s not expecting
me
to drop my life and rush to her side like Mags. Not after the way she treats me!) Anyway, because I was awake I heard all these weird sounds. I
KNOW
I heard groaning and creaking and am extremely certain that I heard chains rattling as well! (I almost feel that I should’ve expected this, since if anyone fits the description of
The Unquiet Dead
, it’s my brother.) The MC says it’s all in my mind. I pointed out that I never hear strange sounds in
my
room. Also, the
Chamber
still reeks in a v unnatural way. The MC says it’s just the darkroom. Well, that’s all right then. It isn’t the smell of
terror and doom
– it’s the smell of poison in the air! The MC wanted to know if I thought I was ever going to grow out of over-dramatizing everything. I said probably soon – when I die an
ugly and tragic death
, suffocated by toxic wastes.

Another night in the
Chamber of Horrors
! (If I end up dropping out of school and becoming a government statistic, we all know
WHO’S TO BLAME
!) Woke up to the sound of stealthy footsteps and the mournful moans of a restless soul in endless pain. Any ordinary person would have pulled the duvet over her head
très
rapidly, but not I! I decided to prove to the Mad Cow that the ghost wasn’t in my mind, but in our flat. I switched on the reading lamp over the futon and leaped into action. For the first time in my young life I was glad my brother is as far from normal as the Earth is from Jupiter. Normal people have make-up and books and stuffed animals, etc. in their rooms, but Geek Boy’s got cameras! I grabbed the one on top of the chest of drawers, turned the light off again and made for the door. I expected to see the eerie glow of a troubled spirit, but the hall was dark.
THOUGH NOT SILENT
!!! I could hear the low moans of perpetual torment coming from the linen cupboard. I’m not saying I wasn’t frightened; my heart was pounding like an oil pump! But Life is frightening, isn’t it? You never know what’s going to happen next – and I’ve experienced enough to know that there’s no reason to expect that whatever it is will be
GOOD
. But I believe that you can’t
TRULY LIVE
if you don’t take chances. (If you can be mown down by hired killers while you’re watching cricket then there’s really nothing to stop you going after a ghost, is there?) I tiptoed down the hall. I stopped at the linen cupboard. I raised my camera. I yanked open the door and pressed the button in one brave motion. There was a flash of light. Sappho, who was sitting on the toilet with her head in her hands, looked up pretty sharply and screamed. To her credit, she took the whole incident a lot better than the MC. Sappho thought it was pretty funny. Also, she understood that since I wasn’t used to sleeping in Geek Boy’s room I was understandably confused about which door was the linen cupboard and which was the bathroom. The Mad Cow said that as I’ve lived in the flat since I was four she reckons I should know that much. I said it isn’t my fault that I’m not in my own room. Also, who expects anyone to be roaming round the flat in the dead of night, moaning? The MC said it was lucky for me there was no film in the camera. She said wait till Robert and your father hear this one!

I always thought you’re meant to glow when you’re pregnant because you’re fulfilling your Biological Destiny, but it turns out this is yet another myth. Sappho walks round like her arms are on backwards, and her skin’s the colour of Buskin’ Bob’s organic soya milk. If you ask me, she looks like she’s fulfilling that other Great Biological Destiny – dying. I said was she sure this pregnancy’s
NORMAL
? I’ve heard of women taking off ten minutes from ploughing a field to have a baby then going straight back to work, but Sappho’s exhausted just walking to the bathroom (where she spends an inordinate amount of time, if you ask me). Sappho said there is no such thing as normal for everyone – just normal for
YOU
. Apparently Sappho has a friend who went to the hospital with acute stomach pains and came back with a seven-pound son – and she’d never even known she was knocked up! I said well, Life is
JUST FULL OF SURPRISES
, isn’t it?

The only person to appreciate my courage and intrepidity in pursuing the ghost without a thought to my own personal safety is Nan. Nan said I would’ve been useful in the war as a
SPY
! Sigmund said only if I’d been working for the Germans.

At last something good has happened to me!!! Justin’s
NOT COMING HOME
!!! Well, not yet at any rate. God knows, no one told me he was meant to come back in December, but today the Mad Cow had a postcard from him saying he’s having such a brilliant time amongst the poor of hungry Mexico that he’s staying on. I can’t tell you what a relief this is. I’ve still got some of Geek Boy’s ill-gotten gains but not so little that he wouldn’t notice there’s a bit missing if he came back now.

It’s just as well Disha’s not speaking to me because it would cost me a bomb on the mobe since Mags and Sappho talk on the landline every night and it goes on for hours (maybe Sappho’s right about lesbians being no different from straight women!). Apparently Mags’s mum isn’t making a miraculous recovery. The Mad Cow and Sappho were talking about what might happen (as in, maybe the old lady’s going to that Great Bingo Hall in the Sky), and Sappho said at least her will is all in order. Can’t help wondering if the MC’s will is in order. What if it isn’t? What if she leaves everything to Justin? I just hope I don’t get the car.

This afternoon I casually remarked to the MC that the flat was going to be a bit crowded over Christmas, what with Sappho staying and all. The MC said she feels that at Christmas it’s a case of the More the Merrier (which is not something she’s ever thought before!!!). Apparently she’s worked it all out: Sappho and Nan can have the double bed in her room, I can have my room, the Deadly Duo can sleep on their air beds on
MY FLOOR
, Sigmund can sleep in Justin’s room, and she and Robert will take the sofa. I said
PARDON
? I said when did the Hotspurs get back in the frame? The MC said as far as she knew, they were never out of it. I said well, I hadn’t heard any catchy tunes about dead hobos being played in the flat recently. The MC said that was because Robert’s been away with work. She said it as though I should’ve already known this, which, of course, I didn’t. She said where did I think that postcard on the fridge from Malaysia came from? I said Malaysia obviously (though to be
ABSOLUTELY
honest I never looked at it twice – I reckoned it was from Geek Boy). Then she started laughing. She wanted to know if I’d thought she and the Eco Warrior had broken up. I said well, it had occurred to me as a possibility. I said Sigmund had been round quite a bit lately, hadn’t he? She said Sigmund has always been round quite a bit. She said the only person who stopped speaking to him for a while was
ME
. She says she doesn’t want to ban him from her life; she just doesn’t want to live with him any more. I said I still think it’s a bit much having him stay here with her new boyfriend. It won’t be v comfortable for him. She said Sigmund doesn’t mind – he likes Robert. Then
ANOTHER DASTARDLY
thought occurred to me. I asked if this meant I was supposed to buy presents for Robert
AND
the Deadly Duo too? The MC wanted to know if it was just
her
I don’t listen to or if it was everybody. I said it was just her. She said I was there when we all decided to have an Oxford Christmas this year. As per usual, I had no idea what she was on about. I said I didn’t see how
we all
could’ve decided anything when
I
knew nothing about it. She said there’s nothing she can do if I’m going to continue having Out of Body Experiences. I was sitting right
there
, in
that
chair and I nodded as if I was listening, so – as far as
she’s
concerned – I was told. I said so I give up, what’s an Oxford Christmas? Nan says Jesus does a lot of sighing in the Bible because the blokes He hangs out with frustrate Him, but I doubt He sighs more than my mother. After she finished
SIGHING
, she practically screamed at me, “Not
OXFORD
, Janet!
OXFAM
!” I said, “What? You mean Oxfam
the charity shop
?” She said, “
PRECISELY
.” The idea is that instead of spending hundreds and hundreds of pounds on pointless presents and tons of food that you don’t need (half of which gets thrown out, apparently) and all the other commercial crap associated with Christmas, we’re going to give the money we would’ve spent to Oxfam to help the hungry and oppressed and have a simple dinner and exchange small gifts, preferably ones we made ourselves!!! She might as well have said we were getting a donkey and walking to Bethlehem. I said, “You’re joking, right?” She said no. I said but I thought I was getting a new mobe! The MC said not unless she can knit me one, I’m not. I said this was all Buskin’ Bob’s idea, wasn’t it? She said she didn’t think the idea that Christmas is about the birth of Christ and not about seeing how much money you can spend originated with Robert. I said it did as far as I was concerned.