12.30 p.m.
Want to hear some great news? No, the TV company hasn’t rung to say they want me on the show after all. That would be beyond super or brilliant or . . . anyhow, it isn’t that. But it’s still pretty mind-blowing.
I haven’t got to go back to Spitty’s Waxworks next Monday or Tuesday or Wednesday or Thursday . . . or, in fact, ever again! Mum said the school and myself were clearly mismatched. She made it sound as if we were dating. She went on to say that it wasn’t right that I felt so unhappy and alienated and that she and Dad were arranging for me to start at a brand new prison.
There is just one catch. While I’m between schools I will have to have a private tutor. Now, I really don’t approve of bringing teachers into the home. Gruesome habit. But wait until you hear who my tutor is.
You remember they mentioned this tutor before. I thought his name was Mr Walrus, though I hadn’t been listening very hard. Actually, his name is Mr Wallace. That still didn’t mean anything to me until they announced his first name: Todd. Yes, Todd from Drama Club. They knew I liked him and had discovered that as well as acting in The Bill and coaching drama, he teaches English and basic maths. He starts next Tuesday.
5.00 p.m.
This afternoon I visited Theo. Mike opened the door. He looked red and bewildered. Theo’s got some kind of chill, apparently. He keeps shivering and the doctor says he needs complete rest. Wish he’d say that about me. To be fair, Theo didn’t look the picture of health. He was dead pale and his eyes seemed to have sunk right into his head. Hated seeing him like that, actually. But, ever keen to strike a cheery note, I said, ‘So we both missed the dreaded maths test, then.’
Theo just gave this sad little smile and whispered, ‘Did you hear about me shouting at my parents yesterday?’
‘No, but tell me everything.’
‘Well, last night I’d just got back from the park, when Dad had a go at me. I’d expected that. But he went on and on about how he and Mum had poured their lifeblood into me, until something snapped inside me and I thought, I can’t take any more of this. So I started screaming at them.’
‘What did you say?’ I asked eagerly.
‘I told them to stop pouring their lifeblood into me and to leave me alone, as they were like this great, heavy weight on me and . . . and I was sick of them.’
‘Oh, excellent. Say anything else?’
‘No.’
‘That’s a shame. So what did they say?’
‘Not much, just looked really shocked. But this morning Dad came and sat down on my bed and talked to me for hours. He said he was on my side and just wanted the best for me. And it was extremely important I understand that. I said I did, because he does mean well, doesn’t he?’
I just shrugged my shoulders.
‘I think he does,’ he whispered. Then he leaned back and closed his eyes.
‘I’ll be off then,’ I said. ‘Get well soon, won’t you.’
I’d just reached the door when he muttered, ‘When I’m better Dad said he’s arranged something special for me.’
‘A trip to Disneyland?’
‘No.’ Theo opened his eyes again. ‘A new course for children which he says is proving extremely popular. It’s all about anger management.’
‘Well, don’t save a place for me.’
Theo started to laugh. ‘Come back soon,’ he said.
9.00 p.m.
I’ve tried to ring Maddy several times today but her mobile is permanently switched off. Hope her parents haven’t confiscated it as a punishment for yesterday.
A leaflet for a salsa dancing class dropped through the letter box today. I placed the leaflet on the kitchen table. Dad picked it up.
‘So are you going to join this time?’ I asked.
‘Shall we?’ said Mum, looking at Dad and laughing.
‘Why not,’ he replied, then he started laughing too.
I really think I’ve found them a hobby at last. That’s a big worry off my mind. Still no answer from Maddy’s phone.