But then there is phase two, which is pretending to be a little boy in Supercar called Jimmy. Jimmy has a very upturned nose with freckles on it. Obviously you could just put your finger on your nose and force the tip back to get the snub nose effect but a more sophisticated method is to use egg boxes. You take one of the bits that the egg fits in and paint some nostrils on it, and some freckles, and Bob’s your uncle. Pop it on some elastic and put it over your own nose. Voilà l’enfant Jimmy!!
So when we had the school photo done, Rosie, Ellen, Julia, Jas and me all had our Jimmynoses on. When you see the photo you don’t actually notice at first, but then, when you look closely, you can see that five girls at the back all have snub noses with freckles. Bloody funny in anyone’s language. Not Slim’s, though. She was all of a quiver.
“Do you know how costly it is to have these photographs done? No you do not, you silly girls. Do you know how ridiculous you make yourselves and the school seem? No, you seem not to know these obvious things.”
Forty years later we got let out. Our punishment is that we have to pick up all the litter in the school grounds. That should please Mr Attwood, the school caretaker. Revenge on us because we call him Elvis. He’s only about one hundred and nine and the most boring, bad-tempered man in the universe, apart from my dad. I really don’t know what is the matter with him lately (my dad), he’s always hanging around, looking at me. Oh well, incest seems to run in my family. (That’s quite a good joke, actually.)
Thursday November 5th
7:00 p.m.
I hate November the fifth. On the way to school it was a nightmare of jumping-jacks and bangers. Boys are obsessed with loud noises and frightening people. I saw Peter Dyer (whelk boy) but he ignored me and also said something to his mate. He’s going out with Katie Steadman now – she’s welcome. I wonder if he will be my first and last boyfriend? Jas and I are talking again, which is a shame because all she wants to do is talk about Tom. She’s miffed because he has to work in the shop all weekend. I said, “Well, that’s what happens in the fruit and veg trade, Jas, you will always be second fiddle to his légumes.” For once, she didn’t argue back.
7:30 p.m.
Angus loves Bonfire Night. The dog next door has to be locked in a padded cell it’s so frightened, but Angus loves it. He chases the rockets – he probably thinks they are grouse on fire. There’s a big bonfire out on the backfields, all the street is going. I’m not, though, because I know that firelight emphasises my nose. I could wear a hat, I suppose. Is that my life, then, going around wearing a hat? No, I’ll just stay in my bedroom and watch other people having fun through the window.
10:00 p.m.
Brilliant bonfire!!! I love Bonfire Night. I had baked potatoes and got chatted up by a boy from up the street. He looks a bit like Mick Jagger (although not, of course, eighty). He said, “See you around,” when I left to come home. I think he might go to the thick boys’ school but, hey ho, he can be my bit of rough. Snigger snigger.
Angus is curled up on my bed, which means I can’t straighten my legs, but I daren’t move him. He’s got a singed ear and his whiskers are burnt off but he’s purring.
Wednesday November 11th
4:20 p.m.
Jas comes round for a bit of a “talk” after school. I make her my special milky coffee drink. She starts to moan on. “Tom is going to be working again this weekend.”
I said, “Well, I told you, it’s a family business.” I felt like a very wise person and also I seemed to have turned into a Jewess. I’ve never said “family business” in my life. Ay vay.
Jas didn’t seem to notice my sudden Jewishness, she just raved on, “I don’t know, I mean, I really, really like him but I want to have fun... I don’t want to have to be all serious and think about the future and never go out.”
I’d really got into the swing of my new role now. “Look, Jas, you’re intelligent (see what I mean? I could say these things without any hint of sarcasm), you’re a good-looking young girl, the world is at your feet. Do you want to end up with a fruit and veg man? Stay with him and the next thing you know you’ll have five children and be up at dawn arguing about cabbages. Look what happened to my mum,” I said meaningfully.
Jas had been following me up until that point but then she said, “What did happen to your mum?” and I said, “She got Dad.”
Jas said, “I see what you mean.”
Monday November 16th
4:10 p.m.
Jas has finished with Tom. She came in all ashen-faced and swollen-eyed this morning. I had to wait until break to talk to her.
We went to the tennis courts even though it was bloody freezing. I refuse to wear a vest, though. I’m going to persevere with my bra, even if it does bunch up. I think my breasts are definitely growing. Fondling is supposed to make them bigger. Melanie Griffiths must do nothing but fondle hers, they’re gigantic. Anyway, Jas told me the whole thing about Tom and how she has now become a dumper.
(Verb to dump: I dump, you dump, he/she/it dumps etc.)
Jas said, “He was upset and angry at the same time. He said he thought we were good together.”
Jas looked as if she was about to cry again so I put my arm round her. Then I took it away quickly – I don’t want to start the lesbian rumour again. I said, “Jas, there’s plenty of other boys. You deserve better than a greengrocer with a horrible bigger brother.”
10:00 p.m.
Oh dear God, Jas on the phone again. Has she done the right thing? etc. etc. etc… I must get her interested in someone else.
Thursday November 19th
8:00 p.m.
Drama drama!!!
We had a substitute teacher today for biology. No, I don’t mean substitute, I mean reserve, no, I don’t mean that, I mean... oh anyway, a student teacher. She was very nervous and short-sighted and we’d all got that mad bug that you get some days and we couldn’t stop laughing. The student teacher, Miss Idris, asked me to hand out pipettes or something and I tried to get up, only to find that Ellen and Jools had tied my Science overall tapes to the drawer handles.
They were helpless with laughter and so couldn’t undo them. It took me ages to get free. Then Rosie wrote a note:
This is the plan – Operation Movio Deskio. Whenever Miss Idris writes on the board we all shift our desks back a couple of centimetres, really quietly.
By the end of the lesson when she looked round from the board we were all squashed up against the back wall and there was a three metre gap in front of her. We were speechless with laughing. She just blinked through her glasses and didn’t say anything.
Then it happened. Jas and I got to the school gate and Robbie was there. For one moment I thought he had realised that it was ME ME ME he wanted and not old dumbo, but he gave me a HORRIBLE look as I passed by. I said to Jas, “Did you see that? What’s he got against me? All right, he’s seen my knickers, but it’s not a hanging offence.”
Jas went a bit red. I said, “Do you know something I don’t?”
And she said nervously, in a rush, “Well, erm, maybe. I think he’s a bit cross, because Tom’s upset we’re not going out and I said it was partly because I’d spoken to you and you had said I really shouldn’t go out with someone in a fruit and veg shop because it was not really good enough for me. Well, you did say that.”
I