I couldn’t write last night, not after the day I had! And not because I am a woman in L-o-v-e (it’s almost a miracle I’m not a woman in T-R-A-C-T-I-O-N). I feel like a Pawn of Fate. Delete all that crap about God loving me. God thinks of me as a toy, like the chewed-up stuffed goldfish that Mr Kipling is always dropping in your lap. Nothing in my life is easy. Nothing in my life goes the way it’s meant to. (HOLD EVERYTHING! I have to get a cup of tea to calm my nerves before I put this excruciating tragedy down in purple and white. I’ll be right back.)
I’m back! First of all, I should’ve known this wasn’t going to be the Date of My Dreams from the moment I woke up and discovered that something had gone RADICALLY WRONG with my hair in the night. (I reckon there must be some cosmic law that says that the more important the occasion, the worse your hair is going to be.) Elvin said he’d meet me by the station in Hampstead. This ruined my plan of taking the tube. I didn’t want him to see me coming out of the station, not after all our talk about how great it is to ride a bike etc. On the other hand, there was no way I was riding up Haverstock Hill, even if I could have done it without bursting a lung. Not only did I not want to arrive for our first date all sweaty, but also I was a bit weak since I’d eaten ALMOST NOTHING since Friday night so I wouldn’t feel too fat. Even walking, it’s a bloody steep hill! I was beginning to think that they’d moved Hampstead (like to Finchley) by the time I finally got to the top. I was v happy to see that Elvin is a man of his word (I think reliability is important in a man). He was waiting outside the tube with his really flash bike (it made me wish I’d painted mine black and silver, but I thought it would impress him more if it looked really used).
I got on before he spotted me and rode to the corner. He started laughing as soon as he saw me. Elvin said he hadn’t seen a bike like mine in EONS. He said it looked like they’d reinvented the solid-steel frame. But he seemed impressed that I wasn’t even out of breath. He said I was v fit and must have incredible thighs (Disha agrees that this was a v flirtatious remark). The first forty-five minutes were PERFECT. We went to this little café before we actually started doing any strenuous exercise. I ordered herbal tea. (I felt pretty pleased with myself that I remembered.) Elvin ordered a double espresso. My tea tasted the way the water looks when you wash your knickers by hand, but it didn’t matter because I felt about twenty. A sophisticated twenty. I reckon if you’re a sophisticated twenty you can put up with laundry water. Elvin told me some more about the film he wants to make. He wants it to show the side of life that you don’t see in Hollywood movies. I said, “You mean, no guns?” and he laughed and said what a good sense of humour I have. It was all smiles and meaningful looks after that. We should’ve ended the date on minute forty-six, but we didn’t. We went outside to get our bikes. Elvin explained the route we were taking (up there, first right, first right, first left – that sort of thing) and I nodded thoughtfully even though I hadn’t a clue where we were going. (To tell you the truth, I’ve always found Oxford Street more interesting than Hampstead Heath. I mean, once you’ve seen a tree you pretty much get the idea, don’t you?) I watched Elvin take off. He was faster than the traffic. I got on my bike. I hadn’t had any trouble riding the couple of metres to the corner the tube station’s on (push down on the right pedal, push down on the left pedal etc.), but for some reason this time I pushed left and pushed right and then I more or less fell over. (I reckon it was nerves because now I was with Elvin. Or sort of with Elvin. Elvin actually shot through a yellow light just before I tipped over. I thanked God. I didn’t need any more of an audience than I had.) The next time I managed to stay upright. I was wobbling a bit, but I was also moving forward. Elvin was waiting on the other side of the lights, and as soon as he saw me he set off again. I couldn’t go nearly as fast as he was going without being able to fly (I think he said his bike weighs about a pound), but at least I stopped wobbling. Everybody was right: You Never Forget How to Ride a Bike. Unfortunately there’s another thing that’s true, and that’s that England never forgets how to rain. I was just sort of beginning to almost enjoy myself when it started to pour down. I rang my bell so Elvin would know I was having a good time (and also so he wouldn’t forget I was there). He turned round and waved. And then he went right and disappeared. I went after him. I couldn’t remember if I was meant to take the first left or the first right then, but he definitely wasn’t ahead of me, so I went right, where there were more trees and less rain. It was the wrong choice. The only thing in front of me now was DOWN. I don’t think I’d ever seen such a v perpendicular hill before in my life! Aside from the fact that I was more hurtling than gliding down the hill, I wanted to stop before I went too far so I didn’t have to walk back up. I touched my brakes. Absolutely NOTHING happened. I touched them again. If anything, I was picking up speed. This time I squeezed both brakes so hard I thought I was going to bend the handlebars. I started ringing my bell, but that didn’t slow me down either. I closed my eyes and REALLY screamed. Elvin said I was lucky not to have broken anything. He said it was too bad my brother wasn’t with me because he would’ve loved a photo of my face as I came down that hill (I made a mental note to tell Disha not to talk about my family to Elvin until I’ve had a chance to prepare him myself). Being a gentleman, Elvin insisted on coming back with me to make sure I was all right. This was FINE with me. Sigmund had a group, the Mad Cow was out with Nan, and Justin’s never home on a Saturday unless he’s ill. My spirits rose even more when on the way home Elvin said that if I wanted, he’d come back next Saturday and fix my bike for me. I wasn’t actually planning to ever get on the bike again, but I said that would be v kind of him and I’d even fix him lunch. He reminded me that I had my yoga class on Saturday afternoon (what a memory!). I said I’d changed it because Saturdays are just too busy. And that’s when all the good news stopped, because not only was Justin at home, he was watching a film on the little telly in the kitchen. Elvin immediately introduced himself and sat down. Following his practice of ALWAYS HUMILIATING ME IF HE CAN, Justin said, “Costello or Presley?” After I told him it was Elvin not Elvis and he should consider having his ears syringed, I went to change into something dry. And also do something about my hair and my make-up. But what did I see when I looked in the mirror? Not only was I soaking wet and slightly bruised (my hair looked even worse than it had when I woke up – I think I may cut it really short and dye it plum) but MY FACE WAS STREAKED WITH BLACK! I looked at my hands. They were black too. I looked down at my trousers. They were still black, but the stitching wasn’t. Now it was grey. I even had ink on my legs!
By the time I got back to the kitchen Elvin and the Abominable Brother weren’t watching the film any more; they were talking about some photographic exhibition Justin’s going to see next weekend! Really!!! As if anybody’s interested. Trust my brother to be mute for most of his adolescence and then decide to make up for all those years of silence the first time I bring a potential boyfriend home. I put the kettle on. I suggested that Elvin and I could have our tea in my room, but Elvin said he was fine where he was. I drank my tea and watched the film while Justin tried to bore Elvin to death. I could feel depression descending, but I acted cheerful and normal. I don’t want Elvin thinking I’m moody this early on. And also I have to consider my skin. My skin always erupts when I’m depressed – because of the stress. As soon as the film was over, Justin said he had stuff to do and left. ALONE AT LAST! I wanted to cry out loud with joy! But not for long because then Elvin said he had stuff to do too and better shake a leg. As soon as Elvin left I went to Justin’s room to kill him, but he was already in his darkroom (that locks, of course!), so instead I went to Disha’s for the night. (I used to wish that the Paskis would adopt me, but since the Night of the Fire Engines Mr Paski’s been more in the mood to have Disha adopted than take me on.) Disha said what happened with the ink was I didn’t use a laundry marker; I just used a coloured pen. It’s all the Mad Cow’s fault because we didn’t have a laundry marker, did we? Sometimes I think she does these things on purpose.
Disha says she doesn’t remember saying anything to Elvin about my brother taking pictures. She thinks Calum must have. I’m beginning to see some advantages to having a brother who doesn’t speak.