saturday july 23rd
9:00 a.m.
Is it too soon to start getting ready yet?
Phoned Jas.
She is not even up yet.
9:30 a.m.
None of the ace gang are up. How lazy can you be???
Maybe I will take a quick morning jog over the back fields to get the old corpuscles flinging themselves around in my body.
10:15 a.m.
This is quite pleasant out here in the elements. My little stripey chums the bees are buzzing about in the flowers. Even now at home in the hive the queen bee might be ripping some drone’s trouser-snake addendas off. It’s a lovely thought. Or two queen bees might be having a bitch fight. Or perhaps all of them are just humming a merry song together, knitting stripey jumpers.
Jog, jog, jog, not too bouncy, keep the nungas flexed so that they don’t hit me in the eye and jog, jog, jog. Oh look, there is Mr. Next Door and Mrs. Next Door walking the Prat Poodles. They throw them the stick and off they go yapping after it. They are a ludicrous waste of space really…and the poodles are no better! Hahahahaha I have made an inner joke. I’d better get as many inner jokes out of the way as possible before tonight because if there is one thing I have learned it is not to let my brain run free and wild. All sorts of rubbish will come out of my mouth.
I jogged past the Next Doors and waved cheerily to them. They looked a bit alarmed. What is the matter with them? What possible harm can I do them in my running shorts?
11:00 a.m.
I’m just going to go to the edge of the woods and then back home. It’s about 11:00 a.m. now, so I could start my steam and cleanse routine. Deep-condition hair at the same time. Then a spot of lunch lovingly prepared by my mother. (Oh I’ve just accidentally made another inner joke.) After lunch, a lie-down with cucumber slices and face mask till my lunch has been munched up by the billions of germs and enzymes lurking around my body. They’d better do something to repay me for lugging them about all the time. That would bring the time to about 2:30, long luxurious bath with Mum’s special unguents and a very thorough going-over in the mirror for any orangutan genes. I plucked my eyebrows the day before yesterday so I should just about be alright, although those dangly squiggly ones seem to sprout in minutes. Spring out of the bath about 5:00 and then have a bit of a dash to get makeup done by 6:30.
one minute later
Jog, jog.
I might have to cut short my bath just to be on the safe side because if something goes wrong makeupwise…you know, dodgy eyeliner or stab in the eye with the mascara brush…I’ll need extra time to cope.
in the bath
4:00 p.m.
Oh how relaxing is this? Not, is the answer! Dad is driving me insane with his “Can I possibly get into the bathroom this side of the grave!!” shouting through the keyhole–type stuff.
I am sure he just lounges around waiting for me to have a bath so that he can come and annoy me. He’s been doing DIY this arvie so he’s bound to be off to casualty in a minute and then at least I will get some peace. Why is he so daddish about doing stuff that he is hopeless at? Mum wanted the kitchen painted and he has insisted that he and Uncle Eddie can do it. It was only a minute and a half before he accidentally painted over the chopping board.
in the kitchen
4:15 p.m.
Dad and Uncle Eddie are almost entirely buttercup yellow. They look like they have had a paint fight.
two minutes later
The kitchen looks like it has had a paint fight.
Mum just looked at me.
I looked at her.
I said, “You chose him.”
And I went off to my boudoir. It just shows you how vair vair careful you must be when you are choosing your partner. She should have made Dad fill out a questionnaire with questions like: Are you sane? And how are your DIY skills? For instance, can you mend a bike wheel without getting your hand stuck and having to go to casualty?
And if the person (Dad) said “no” to both questions, then you run like the wind.
Etc.
Mind you as I said to Mum, I wouldn’t even have had to bother with the questionnaire as a quick glance at his enormous conk would have been a deciding factor for me.
in my bedroom
I had almost forgotten about my nose until Miss Octopushead mentioned it again. Let me see.
looking in the mirror
Well it’s not small, that is a fact. But providing I don’t do any ad hoc smiley smiley without reining my nostrils in I think it could pass for almost normal. I don’t know why, perhaps my face has grown around it a bit.
7:10 p.m.
I am ready. Well, as ready as I will ever be.
My makeup went well and I have applied anti-snogging sealant to my lips, although not to my eyes this time. I decided on my short blue dress in the end, with ankle boots. My hair is not bad for once, it has bounceability and umph.
7:15 p.m.
Phoned Jas.
“Jas, are you ready?”
“Yeah, are you? Tom is walking there with Robbie so I’ll meet you and the gang at the clock tower if you like.”
“Okey diddly dokey. I’m a bit nervy, I hope I don’t have a spaz attack on the way there.”
“Please don’t, the last time you did my tights got laddered when we crashed into the postbox.”
7:40 p.m.
Clock tower.
The ace gang rides again!!!
Rosie was all in black, as was Sven. Also Sven was wearing a cowboy hat. He said, “Ciao baby, hasta la vista.”
What fresh hell.
Rosie said, “He’s gorgeous, isn’t he, my fiancé.”
I said, “Er…yeah”
Ellen, Jools, Mabs, Honor, Soph (trainee ace gang members), Jas and me walked along chatting together whilst Sven and Rosie brought up the rear (oo-er). There was a big queue outside the Old Market, but Sven swanned up to the front and chatted to the bloke on the door. Oh brilliant, we would probably be banned before we even got in. But to my amazement the bloke said, “Come straight through, girls,” and ushered us in. Right past Wet Lindsay and her pals. Yessssssss!!! She was as livid as a livid thing.
stiff dylans gig
Inside it was already rammed. The Dylans have built up a massive following, it is going to be vair tiring constantly going out as I will have to when I am Masimo’s girlfriend. I still can’t believe it, actually. You know when you dream about something for so long and then it happens.
one minute later
Well, maybe going to happen if I choose him over Robbie. Unless Masimo really is two-timing me with Lindsay, and Robbie is only my mate. In which case I am a fool and a loser.
9.30 p.m.
I am sooooo hot and full of tensionosity. Masimo has smiled at me from the stage, but I haven’t actually spoken to him. And also, he has smiled at quite a few girls. I have been having a laugh, but also don’t quite know what is going on. Ro Ro came up.
“OK, gang, this is a fast one. We could practice the Viking bison dance. Have you all got your horns?”
I said, “Oh drat I forgot mine, never mind, you lot carry on.”
Ro Ro looked at me. “Don’t you luuuuurve the Viking bison dance? Don’t you want me to have a happy wedding?”
I said, “Yes, I do, but as I have another eighteen years to practice the dance before you get married, I am not too bothered.”
Rosie said, “Have it your own way, I can’t stand chatting to you all night, I have my fiancé to snog.”
And she went and hurled herself on Sven and snogged him right in front of everyone, and he was eating a packet of peanuts at the time.
forty-fifth visit to the tarts’ emporium
Lippy still nice and pink and glossy. Which isn’t surprising, as I haven’t exactly been living in Snog City.
I was just doing a bit of nunga-nunga adjusting and pouting practice when I noticed a little head bobbling about behind me. Then it was joined by another little red head. Two little heads bobbling about behind me. The little titches from school. What were they doing here? Also, they were covered in makeup, they looked like Martha and Minnie the daft vampire twits. (Whoever they are.)
I turned round and said, “What are you two doing here?”
Titch No. 1 said, “We like a bop on a Saturday night.”
Are they insane? They are only about twelve. Then I noticed their skirts. Or not, as it happens. They were wearing what looked like belts. I said that to them, I said, “You seem to have come out without your skirts on. It’s not PE, you know.”
They both started shuffling their legs.
“It’s fashion, Miss.”
Fashion? Miss? Hang on a minute, I had become my vati!!!
ten minutes later
I gave them a stiff talking-to about the birds and the bees. Well the bees anyway, I told them about the bee arse thing etc. But I also said that Wet Lindsay was here and that if she saw them they were definitely in for an ear-bashing and possibly another visit to the elephant house, or Slim’s study, as some fools call it.
They looked a bit frightened. And one said, “We just wanted some fun. We are never allowed to do anything, it’s like being in prison. My dad shouts at me when I am on the phone, or in the bathroom or use his razor and everything.”
I was nodding along. “I know, I know, I know. Yep I know.”
They are very young to know the tragicosity of life, but there you are. Anyway I told them that if they stood in the dark near the bar they could watch the band for another half an hour but then they must go home.
Strangely they seem to think I know what I am talking about and do what I say. It’s a bit like having a couple of ginger retrievers in makeup.
back in the gig
I took the titches to a space behind the bar where it was really dark and left them there all giggly. Wet Lindsay and her tragic mates were “grooving about” (or pratting about, as some might call it) at the far end of the club by the stage. Masimo didn’t seem to be paying any attention to her. But then he hadn’t paid any attention to me either, other than smiling at me.
fifteen minutes later
The band had done one cracking set. No sign of Robbie yet. Masimo was a fabby singer and his dancing was grooviness personified. All the twittish girls at the front were going mental. I wouldn’t be surprised if they started throwing their knickers at him. Very very shaming, they have no pridenosity.
I turned to Jas and said, “You wouldn’t fling your knickers on stage, would you Jazzy?”
She said, “Well not the inner ones.”
Is she completely insane? Does she actually wear two pairs of knickers? Outer ones and inner ones? I was just about to make her let me have a look when a sort of scuffle-type thing took place by the bar. Oh great, I might have known, the Blunderboys had turned up and Mark Big Gob was having a go at someone.
Ellen and the rest of the gang wanted to go and see what was happening so we went over.
one minute later
Wow and wow and wowzee wow. It was like the shoot-out at the OK Corral. Dave the Laugh and his mates were sizing up to the Blunderboys. Apparently one of the Blunderers had been hitting on the titches, twanging their bra straps and trying to snog them and Dave had noticed and stepped up.
Mark Big Gob said, “Pick a window, you’re leaving.”
And the next thing I knew, Dave the Laugh was sitting on Mark Big Gob’s head.
two minutes later
The bouncers chucked the Blunders out. They are so pathetico, they were yelling, “Watch your back, mate, we know where you live.”
Dave said, “Yeah, but do you know where you live, that is the point, you twit.”
As they left, Mark did that putting two fingers to his eyes and then pointing them at Dave and then doing a pretend cutting his throat. Amazingly naff.
The titches went up to Dave all mooney and he said, “Home, girls, now, quick as you like.”
And they said, “OK, Dave.”
And left all girly.
Blimey.
I said to Dave, “They luuurve you.”
Dave looked at me. “I am, it has to be said, Jack the Biscuit.”
Then he puckered up and did a really mad fast twisting dance. He was shouting, “Just call me Big Dave!!!”
I was laughing when Emma came over with a drink for him. She said “hi” to me and then gave him a kiss and a hug. Weird. Well, the kiss and the hug weren’t weird, but it made me feel sort of weird.
I sloped off to the ace gang.
break
Robbie arrived. Wet Lindsay must have been on high alert because he had only just got through the door before she flung herself on him and took him to the bar. God, I hate her. I must say he didn’t look too thrilled to see her and he was looking around. Maybe he was looking for me. I had a sudden spaz attack and said to Jas, “Jas, I am going to hide behind you, don’t move, I want to see what is going on.”
Jas is useless as camouflage, she keeps forgetting her role and every time she says anything to me she turns round to talk to me and reveals me crouching down behind her. What is the point in that?
Lindsay was being all “animated,” if an octopus can be animated. Robbie was being polite, but he looked a bit distracted. The he saw the Dylans coming from backstage to the bar and said something to Lindsay and went over to speak to them. As he turned his back on her, Lindsay reached down the front of her top and did a bit of adjusting. Ah-hah, her false basoomas must have come free from their lashings. Good.
The Dylans sat down at a table and were immediately surrounded by girls all fluffing and farting about. Jas said, “I’m going to the bar with Tom, you’ll have to fend for yourself.”
I said, “Jas, Jazzy, don’t leave me, just walk slowly across to the bar and I will lurk behind you.”
So I shuffled over to the bar behind her, but just as we got almost opposite the Dylans’ table, she bumped into Sven. Oh no. Sven could see me sort of lurking behind Jas and he said, “Aha!!! Let us groove baby, Sven likes to groove.”
And he picked me up and started doing this sort of jive-type dance, only my feet were not touching the ground. It was horrific and I am pretty sure you could see my knickers and therefore my tights. Which must have looked really erm…crap.
I said, “Put me down, Sven, please.”
Eventually he lost interest in me because Rosie came up in her bison horns and said, “I feel the Horn coming on.”
And Sven put me down on a table. The Dylans’ table. The table that both Masimo and Robbie were sitting at. Oh marvelous.
My bottom was inches away from a Sex God and a Luuurve God.
What would a person full of sophisticosity and maturiosity say?
I said, “Anyone know the footie results?”
Oh no, I had déjà whatsit. I slipped off the table and everyone looked at me.
Masimo half-smiled and said, “Miss Georgia, I hope you have not a train to catch tonight.”
And he and all the lads laughed. I of course went beetroot. Thank God it was so dark.
I shambled off to the tarts’ wardrobe.
As I went past her, Wet Lindsay put her face really near mine and said quietly, “Did the little girl make a fool of herself in front of the big boys? Diddums.”
tarts’ wardrobe
All the ace gang assembled.
Mabs said, “You sat on their table?”
Jools said, “You asked about the footie? Again?”
Rosie said, “Did you say you had to catch a train?”
Ellen said, “I mean, you could see, erm, your…knickers.”
Jas said, “I bet you wished you had my big knickers on now.”
back in the club of life
On the way back from the loo, I bumped into Dave. He smiled at me in his groovy way and said, “Ah, Sex Kitty, have you just been to the piddly diddly department?”
I said in a dignitosity-at-all-times way, “Er no, I certainly haven’t…”
He said, “Ah…so it was the poo parlor division, then?”
Oh it was sooo nice to see him. We both laughed. He looked at me from underneath his eyelashes for a bit. He has got really nice eyes, smiley and sexy at the same time. I wonder if I should…
And then he said, “I’m just off for a wazz.”
I said really quickly, “Dave, can I ask you a question in your capacity as official Hornmeister? What do you think Robbie thinks about me? I mean, do you know anything? You know, any boy-type signs that I might not know about?”
He looked at me again, and then he looked over to where his girlfriend was talking to her mates. She waved at him and he waved back. He said, “Well, I think that Robbie does like you, but he is not sure where he stands and he doesn’t know what is going on with Masimo, so he is playing it near to his chest and cool bananas.”
I love Dave the Laugh.
But only in a, you know, matey way.
Then we saw Masimo coming our way. He was being stopped by girls as he pushed his way through the crowds.
Dave said, “Oy hold up, here comes the Italian Stallion. I hope he is not going to hit me with his handbag because I am talking to you.”
I said, “Dave, he hasn’t got a handbag.”
But Dave still wouldn’t leave it alone. He said, “Well I hope he doesn’t hit me with his sports bra then.”
He really is vair vair annoying.
Masimo came up to us then, and Dave said, “Cracking set. I’m just off to the wazzarium.” And he went off.
Masimo said, “He is going to the wazzranium? What is this?”
Oh dear God. I said, “Well it’s, you know, like the boys…erm…piddly diddly…no no, forget that. Er, he’s gone to the loo.”
Masimo smiled. “My English is still, how you say…?”
And I said, “Crapio?”
fifteen minutes later
I am on cloud ninety-five, I think. Masimo is catching his plane to Italy early in the morning and he said he has to pack up after the gig, but can he meet me and I can go round to his place and see him off. I said yes, but this is going to take some planning. Jas will have a spaz attack if I don’t report back to Jas Headquarters like I am supposed to do. So my cunning plan is this. I go home with Jazzy, do pretendy going to bed, slip out of her house when everyone has gone to bed (using Jas’s key, which she will lend me) and meet Masimo for a few hours. Then he drops me back at Jas’s in time for me to do pretendy getting up after a good night’s sleep.
All I have to do now is to explain to Jas what an excellent plan it is.
Perhaps I could just hit her over the head with a particularly heavy owl and sneak out.
11:45 p.m.
How cool!! Robbie joined in with the last two songs of the gig. We are all dancing like loons. But loons that have sophisticosity and whatsit. It was fabby having two singers, they sounded really groovy together. I don’t know why we can’t have a ménage à trois actually…. Everyone does in la belle France.
midnight
Getting our coats. Robbie strolled over and said, “Alright, girls?”
Then he smiled at me. “I haven’t had much chance to talk to you, Georgia, do you need a lift home?”
Oh Blimey O’Reilly’s trousers…he really did have dreamy blue eyes, really dark blue like a dark blue sea or like a…hang on a minute, my lips were puckering up without my permission!! Stop it, stop it!!!
I said, “Well I’m staying at Jas’s, but…”
At which point in unusually crap timing even for her, the creature from the lagoon, Wet Lindsay, came sliming up. She totally ignorez-voused me and linked up with Robbie and said to him, “How about that drink you promised me?”
Robbie looked at me and I looked at him. Now was the time for me to say, “I need to talk to you.” Yeah, that was the thing to do now. But if anyone knows what to do it won’t be me. Lindsay said to me, “Bye-bye, don’t be late home,” and started leading Robbie off. And I just stood there not saying anything.
He turned back and said, “Maybe another time, Georgia?”
Wet Lindsay turned back as well and gave me the evils.
What a prizewinning cow she is.
five minutes later
I was still spluttering about her. “What a slimey octopussy cow she is!! She made Robbie have a drink with her. He said, ‘Do you want a lift home, Georgia?’ and there she was like the bride of a jelly fish, lurking and sliming about.”
Rosie said, “We must eat her; it’s the only solution.”
As we left the club, Masimo was packing up on the stage and he shouted to me, “Ciao, Georgia, see you soon.”
And all the girls who had been hovering around looked over at me and THEY gave me the evils. If I was a voodoo doll I’d be covered in pins from head to foot.
I waved back in a casualosity-at-all-times way. Ooooh I don’t know what to think.
Ellen started dithering for England, “Er, what, why did he…I mean, what does he mean ‘see you soon’?”
I said, “Well I am going round to his house later.”
Rosie said, “I thought you were staying at Jas’s?”
I said, “Well I am in principle, but then I am going to sneak out and he will pick me up at the end of Jas’s road.”
Jools said, “Blimey.”
I said, “I know. Pizza-a-gogo-type snogging for me. I’ll let you know if he does any unexpected tongue work.”
Mabs said, “How has Jas explained it to her mum and dad? There’s no way I could get out of my house without the flying squad being called.”
I said, “Oh, well they are cool with it.”
They all looked at me.
Rosie said, “You haven’t told Jas, have you?”
“Well, not as such.”
Rosie said, “She will have a nervy b. and probably pop off to Strop Central.”
God, life is complicated. As I said to Rosie, “This is what comes of being too likeable.”
She said, “Who?”
“Me.”
She did that slapping me on both cheeks thing she does and said, “Don’t be mad.”
walking home with the gang
I made them shut up about my night visit to Luuurve land when Jas and Tom came and joined us to walk home.
four minutes later
I think I might be in a good mood. Because a Luuurve God in the hand is worth two on the bus, and I am meeting up with a Luuurve God later even if a Sex God has gone off on the bus…anyway, you get my drift.
I am even in the mood to join in with the mad ramblings of Radio Jas. She was all snuggled up with Tom as we ambled along, and every now and again they would stop and have a little kiss. Not full-on snogging, but just a pecky affair. Sweet, really. If you like that sort of thing.
Just then there was a mad ringing of a bell fiasco and Sven came riding up on a child’s bike.
“Hi girls, rock and roll!!!”
And he did a wheelie before crashing into a tree. Then he just left the bike on the ground and got hold of Rosie and put her over his shoulder. You could see her knickers. Sven said, “I am a wild and crazy guy!!!”
He’s not wrong there. Rosie said from upside down, “Tatty bye! Sven and I are going to snog for a bit.”
And he peeled off into the park. With his hump/girlfriend.
Ellen and Jools and Mabs and Honor were all being taken home by Mabs’s dad. She had made him park two streets away from the market in case anyone saw him. And also as a double precaution he had to pretend to be reading a newspaper so that none of her friends could see his head. You see they say that teenagers show no initiative and so on, but we are constantly having to think about this sort of thing. It is vair vair tiring.
After we’d said s’laters to everybody, Jas and Tom and I continued on to her place. Tom said, “Good gig, wasn’t it? He’s a cool guy, Masimo. Don’t you think so, Gee?”
It is a bit awkward for me being completely honest around Tom, him being Robbie’s brother and so on.
I sort of mumbled something.
Jas said, “Yeah, do you think he is cool, Georgia?” and looked at me in a meaningful way. I didn’t say anything so she opened her eyes really wide and raised her eyebrows. I raised my eyebrows back at her. We could have gone on doing that all night, but then Tom said, “So have you had ‘the talk’ with my bro?”
I said, “Well, erm, not really. He went off with Lindsay.”
Tom said, “Yeah well, I wouldn’t exactly call it that, she sort of made him take her for a drink, that isn’t the same as him asking her for a drink.”
I decided to take the bull by the legs and hurl it about a bit and strap a little hat on its head and…shut up, brain. I decided to ask Tom what he thought was going on.
I said, “Has Robbie said anything about what he thinks about me?”
Tom shuffled about a bit and said, “Well, he’s always said how much he liked you, and that he was really sorry that it didn’t work out between you…and that it was, like, more or less just to do with the fact that he thought you were a bit…well, young for him.”
Jas said, “She is too young for him, she’s too young for anyone, actually….”
I looked at her and said, “Oh thanks, besty pal.”
She was in Wise Mavis of the Woods mood though, she should get a stick and grow a beard. Ramble ramble. “I am just being realistic, Gee, you are not a serious sort of person, you are giddy, you like snot dancing and so on, you are not ready for a proper relationship, you just want to blow your horn and so on. That is just le fact.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Perhaps she is right. Perhaps I am a hollow sham of a person who will end up on my own in a cellar. Or as the coowner of a corduroy shop with Miss Wilson.
It made me feel a bit miz. Not as miz as I felt ten minutes later when I had to hang around the garage like a goosegog whilst Jas and Tom kissed good night. I wasn’t allowed to go into the house because Jas said we had to go into the house together. I would have ignored her, but I still hadn’t broken the news about my early morning Snog Fest. I tried not to notice them, but I could sort of hear them snogging. Squelchy noises and breathing and rustling. It was like being a pervy. In fact I had become the female equivalent of Elvis Attwood. Bloody hell.
four years later
Eventually Jas dragged herself away from Tom and after about ninety-five years of her saying “Bye, then,” and then rushing after him for one last kiss I managed to get her through the door.
jas’s house
Jas’s mum came into the kitchen in her (sensible) nightie. No suggestion of nungas akimbo like there would have been round at my house. She said, “Did you have a good time, girls? I have left some snacks out for you, you must be ravenous. I’m off to bed. I made the bed all snuggly for you. Night, God bless.”
And she went off. Amazing. No third degree. No “And who did you dance with, was there any snogging?” from Mum or “What bloody time do you call this, you treat this house like a bloody hotel” from Dad. Just some snacks and good night.
Quite, quite amazing.
upstairs
Jas was ages in the bathroom. What is she doing in there?
I said through the door, “Jas, what are you doing in there?”
She said, “I am applying nighttime moisturizer.”
Good Lord. She must have used a bucket of it by now.
in bed
I am fully dressed.
Jas said, “Georgia, you are fully dressed.”
“I know, I am going out in a minute.”
She said, “What???”
I said, “Yes I told you, I am being picked up by Masimo at one a.m. He is setting off to the airport at three a.m. so I should be back about then.”
She said, “You did not tell me you were meeting Masimo, but it doesn’t matter because you are not meeting him. That is a fact.”
“Jazzy.”
“And anyway, what about Robbie? What have you told him? What will he think about it? Anyway, he won’t think anything about it because you’re not meeting Masimo.”
“Jazzy.”
“No, if you get caught I will be grounded for years.”
“Yes, but Jazzy, I will not be caught, I will just do creepy creep out of the back door using your key, creepy creep down to the bottom of the street, be picked up by my gorgey fabby Luuurve God, snog, chat, snog, chat, maybe do a bit of quiet crying as he says arrivederci. But not enough crying to spoil my eye makeup. And also I will be seeing him quite soon when I go on my holiday to Rome.”
Jas was having a massive tizz and hump, even for her.
“This is so typical of you. If anyone gets into trouble it will be me, and you probably won’t do creepy creep, you’ll probably fall over something and wake everyone up and even if you do get back into the house you will go into the wrong bedroom or something.”
I gave her a big hug.
“Don’t you want me to be happy, Jazzy?”
“No.”
That’s nice, isn’t it?
I said, “Look, I’ll do a practice creep now, I’ll creep into the kitchen and see if you can hear me.”
12:30 a.m.
I can’t believe this. Jas made such a fuss about me making a noise, but by the time I got back from creeping around she had fallen asleep!!!
There is a similarity between Jas’s house and mine, her vati and mutti both snore. Which is good because it means they are asleep.
12:50 a.m.
I wonder what it will be like being with Masimo? For two hours? All aloney with the Luuurve God. Or maybe Dom, his flat mate, will be there and we won’t get time to snog. Sacré bleu!
in the bathroom
I look OK. I don’t know whether to do just lip gloss because of the maybe snognosity of the situation, or to rely on the lip sealant stuff and do full lippy.
Ohhhh I don’t know.
12:55 a.m.
Time to girdey the loins and pucker up.
Crept downstairs and into the kitchen…I had already opened the back door so that I wouldn’t make any noise at all. Stepped out into the back garden. Stars all twinkling about in the sky. Looking down on me like twinkly, erm, twinkly things.
I know that I had said they were useless, like sort of dim blinky torches, but now I could see that they were jolly. Like tiny jolly lights, lighting my way to a snogathon. That’s how good a mood I was in.
Vair vair good.
1:05 a.m.
Sitting on a garden wall at the end of Jas’s street.
Brr, it’s a bit nippy noodles even though it is the middle of summer. And a bit quiet and creepy.
Maybe he won’t come? Maybe he was talking to the rest of the Stiff Dylans about me and they said, “Are you mad, mate?” Or maybe his ex-girlfriend phoned up and they have decided to get back together, or…
And that’s when I heard his scooter approaching.
I stood up. Then I sat down again. What would a cool person do? Would they stand up or sit down in a casualosity-at-all-times sort of way? I wish I smoked, at least I would have something in my hand. Although with my luck, I would probably set fire to my head. I know what, I could be looking through my bag and just look up when he got to me.
I started rustling about in my bag as the scooter got nearer. Then he was there. I looked up and he was sitting on his scooter. He took his helmet off and shook his hair loose. Good grief and jelloid leggies akimbo. He was quite literally gorgeous. And he had actually come to see me. For once I just felt sooooo happy to be me. And lucky. I was in love with the world. Yes, even Jazzy. The whole wide world. Apart from Wet Lindsay.
Masimo smiled and said, “Ciao, caro,” and blew me a kiss. Then he got the spare helmet and patted the seat behind him. “Come, let us ride.”
It was like being in a film. He even put the helmet on for me and as he fastened the chin strap he kissed me on the lips. I really did nearly fall over. Then he said to me, “Are you OK, safe? Hold on to me.”
I put my hands on his waist. Blimey, touching him was like getting an electric shock. Beam me up, Scotty, as they say in one of those TV things that boys like so much, full of people from other planets with weird heads like cauliflowers. Why do boys like things that look so weird—hobbits and elves and mekons and so on? I don’t know and I don’t care because I have got a Luuuurve God in my hands who hasn’t got a cauliflower for a head. And who LIKES me!!!
Yessssssss!!! I had a song in my heart, and it was not “Funky Moped” by Jasper Carrott.
We drove through the dark streets, it was absolutely fabby. There were still a few people coming home from clubs singing and dancing around. We pulled up at a traffic light and Masimo said, “I thought we would go to my place and I can give you Italian coffee…and other Italian things.”
Blimey O’Reilly’s trousers. At this rate, I wouldn’t be able to get off the bike for jelloidness.
1:30 a.m.
Masimo’s flat is cool. He shares it with Dom and a mate of Dom’s. It’s quite tidy and there is no undercrackers pile like in Mum and Dad’s room. I wonder what sort of undercrackers Masimo wears? Italian-type ones. Maybe musical ones that play “Arrivederci Roma” or “Nessun Dorma.” No, no Masimo would never wear novelty undercrackers…Why have I wandered into the underwear department?
Masimo has made me proper coffee in a machine-type thing, with some little biscuits that taste of almond. I feel très European. As I sipped my coffee, he finished his packing. He had some cool shirts.
When he finished he shut his case and looked at me. “So, Miss Georgia, does Robbie know about us?”
I looked at him. “Well, he…I…”
Masimo put his arms around me. “Perhaps I can help you, caro…”
2:30 a.m.
Crikey, I feel like a dozy bumble bee. Masimo has to be the best snogger ever. He kissed me really slowly for ages without a break. It wasn’t even No. 4 (kiss lasting three minutes without a break), it was more like No. 4 times three (a kiss lasting at least a quarter of an hour).
And he talks and stuff. Not whilst we are snogging, because clearly you wouldn’t be able to know what he was saying, other than “nnuummppphhhmmmernuummmpphh.” But what I mean is the in-betweeny bits, when he’d stop kissing me and then look in my eyes and stroke my hair. Saying stuff like bellissima and so on. And for a bit he was running his hands up from the bottom of my throat to my lips and then putting his fingers just slightly in my mouth. Gadzooks! It was fabby. Apparently girls are supposed to have about two hundred thousand million more sensory nerves than boys. We are pleasure machines!!!
Masimo seemed to like it just as much as me.
2:50 a.m.
Masimo looked up at the clock. “Oh my God, my plane. I so, do not, want to leave you, Georgia, I wish I could stay here all night with you. I really like you. Please will you come and visit with me? I don’t want to wait for a month to see you. Will you try?”
I tried to sit up and get my lips under control. They felt like they had swollen to about fourteen times their normal size. Masimo was speaking in Pizza-a-gogo land talk as he made sure he had his passport and tickets. Ummmm, how groovy does he sound? The fact that he was probably saying “Buggeration, where’s my sodding pants?” didn’t matter because he was speaking the language of luuurve. Not just some crap foreign language.
Like German. It wouldn’t have sounded at all the same in Lederhosen talk. “I zink du bist ein gutten looken fraulein. Du bist wunderbar like ze big spangleferkel. Ich vant to frontal knutschen you!!! Oh ja oh jah!!!”
Whilst my brain had been off to Loonland, Masimo had got his stuff together.
He grabbed his coat and then as he was putting it on, got hold of me and pulled me toward him. He smelled sooooo nice, sort of him and a perfume thing all mixed up. He kissed me very hard on the lips for a long time and then put both of his hands round my head and looked me in the eyes. “We like each other, it will be good, Miss Georgia.”
The doorbell rang and it was the cab.
We bundled in the cab and carried on snogging and within seconds it seemed like we were at Jas’s corner and I had to get out and leave him. Nooooooooooooo. I think I am in luuuuurve….
Masimo kissed me again and looked really sad. “I will miss you.”
I got out in a sort of daze and waved to him as the cab pulled away.
And then I realized that I actually was crying. Real tears. Not pretend tears. My heart felt really soft and full and sad. It all seemed like a dream. I could still feel his kisses on my mouth.
I will never ever be able to sleep tonight. I don’t want to, I want to remember this forever. I walked around the back of the house. It was a beautiful night with a deep black sky and I could hear the soft hooting of an owl in the distance. Normally I would have been annoyed but tonight I thought “Good night, Mr. Owl, I hope you have a Mrs. Owl at home to keep you company…unless you are in fact a Mrs. Owl and then I hope you have a Mr. Owl at home, and if you don’t you could always join Jas in her bed if you like stuffed owls, that would be a hoot.”
Yes, it is official, I am actually telling jokes to owls. I must be in love.
I let myself in the back door and crept up the stairs of the silent house and into Jas’s room. There she was all curled up with her arm around Snowy Owl. Hmmmm. Well, live and let live, I say. I got undressed and settled down among my friends the owls.