Mike Hussy has been suspended and our class, and the whole school, is a happier place without him. I think other years that may have bullies are reaping some benefit because everyone is on their best behaviour for a while. His clique of pals is subdued and that’s a good thing too. They look ashamed and so they should be: they are accessories to a crime. However, as Mum has advised me, it does not do to gloat, so there’s no smugness allowed for those of us who are glad that the right thing seems to have been done.
If only I could be totally right again with Dixie.
Mr Bradley gives us a speech at Assembly about how the school has a ‘zero-tolerance policy’ with regard to bullying or any other sort of threatening behaviour. He looks like he loves this crisis. He does make one cracking point that teachers can’t help if they don’t know what’s going on, but that doesn’t cover the fact that you’d look like a snitch if you went running tattling tales. Thankfully no one thinks I’m a snitch for going to him about Mike Hussy, because he had nearly been the cause of very serious bodily harm.
Teddy says Mike was made to apologize to him personally but that it was all a bit weird because Mike and his mum looked really scared as they were walking away, even though Mike should be delighted to be off school for a while and that the police aren’t involved. Teddy puffed his chest out a little as he said, ‘I’m not pressing charges,’ and he looked megacute.
Teen Factor X auditions are this weekend and it is a banned subject for discussion. None of the Gang said that ‘rule’ out loud, it’s just clear that this is the best way to progress. Of course, now that both Uggs and Dixie know, the sensible thing would be for them to come with me, but that can’t happen. I have been a fool and we’d all lose face if I asked them because then they’d be forced to accompany me and maybe they wouldn’t want to be seen with a total EEJIT.
Thankfully we have a lot of other work to tackle, namely DA BOMB. Uggs wants to try out the other recipes we’re proposing and we agree that Sam Slinky should be given samples of those as our Celebrity Endorser. Also, if we have stock, we can fill any orders we might get quicker.
It’s a lot of fun in the kitchen as Uggs calls for ingredients and we go, ‘Yes chef!’ We’re getting along fine but there is an invisible barrier that we all feel and it’s my fault. If I tear at that by trying to be all big and tackling the problem I’ve made head-on, I worry that I will ruin what we have altogether. I am going to see how we get on and, IF the time is ever right to talk to Dix about how dreadful I have been, I will.
The weekend is looming and I’m not sleeping well. I wake at 5 a.m. most mornings, even before Gypsy starts her barking routine next door. I lie there listening to the sounds of birds (v noisy) and people going to work early or maybe coming home from a night shift, roaring past on motorbikes or starting cars, and Mum going in and out of the loo a lot.* I’m usually too tired to knit or read or do anything much but lie there and worry. And hum. I’m trying out songs in secret and using choir practice as stealth rehearsal for performing in public. At breakfast each morning Gran tells me my eyes are like two holes burnt in a blanket.†
