Boys Beware (14 page)

I wish tomorrow
weren’t
our last night. I wish we could have met Wackeen earlier. I wish we weren’t going to spend all day driving to a place called Buckfast to see some stupid abbey. I don’t want to see an abbey! I would rather see Wackeen! But Gran and Grandad have set their hearts on it. They just love going round old buildings, especially if they are holy. They would be really upset if I told them I didn’t want to go.

What a lot of sacrificing one has to do in this life!

Have just broken off to discuss the situation with Tash. She informs me that I am the one Wackeen is attracted to; not her. I don’t know whether this is true or not!!! He has a really beautiful smile, and I did notice that he seemed to take more notice of me than he did of Tash. If he really likes me better it must be because I have blonde hair. You probably don’t get many people with blonde hair in Spain. Tash is being very good about it, I must say. She says she is really happy for me, and I believe her. I would be happy for her if it were the other way round!

Week 6, Saturday

I think Gran and Grandad really enjoyed their visit to the old abbey. I’m glad I didn’t tell them that I’d rather have stayed behind and gone down to the beach; it would have been unkind. All the same, I couldn’t help feeling it was a day wasted. I did quite like the abbey, but I would far rather have been with Wackeen!

Actually, I have now discovered that he is called Joaquin. Grandad laughed and laughed when I said Wackeen! Though to be honest, I couldn’t really hear all that much difference; just a bit more huffing and puffing at the start, like Hhhho-ackeen. I’m sticking to Wackeen!

We saw him this evening in his sister’s restaurant. They were really busy and he was helping out, so we didn’t get much of a chance to talk. But he kept catching my eye across the room and winking at me, and I kept dissolving into giggles, mainly because Tash would
keep
prodding
and
nudging.
Ali didn’t get what was happening, she kept going, “What? What is it?” and Gran told me in reproving tones to “Stop being so obvious, Emily! It’s demeaning.” Well, ho! I bet Gran was obvious enough in her day, even if she didn’t start till she was fifteen. I’ve seen photos of her in mini skirts!

Tomorrow we have to go back home. I do wish we didn’t. It is
so
frustrating. Just as I’ve met someone! If I could just have one more day I feel that Wackeen and me could really get to know each other. Tash is right, it
is
me he goes for. He is definitely interested! But he is going home himself tomorrow, so no chance. He has promised that he will write to me, so I am trying to be hopeful, but I have read too often in magazines like
Glam Girl
about holiday romances which come to nothing. Tash has done her best to cheer me up by pointing out that living in Spain “he wouldn’t actually be much
use
to you. Like you couldn’t take him to parties, or anything.”

I know she is right, but I could at least tell everyone that I had a boyfriend, and show them pictures. Tash says I could still do that, if I wanted. We got Grandad to take loads of photos in the restaurant, and Tash swears she would never give me away.

“I’d never tell anyone he wasn’t really your boyfriend.”

That is so sweet of her! But I think it would be just too sad to pretend that someone was my boyfriend when he wasn’t. I said this to Tash, and reluctantly she agreed with me. She said, “It’s a nice idea, but you’re right. The time for fantasy is over! What we need are
real
boys.” I mean, for goodness’ sake, we are nearly thirteen!

Sunday

Back home. Back to buying toilet rolls and thinking what to eat. Back to
independent living!!!

To make matters worse, it’s my turn to do the cooking! Except that I have decided Ali is right, and that tins are the way to go. Went shopping after we got back and now the cupboard is positively bursting. Hooray! A tin a day keeps hunger away. And, as Tash says, will keep us going if the terrorists come. She is still obsessed!

Earlier, coming back from the station in a cab (Grandad gave us the money! He is so sweet), we arrived home at the same moment as Gus. I had forgotten how beautiful he is. On a scale of one to ten I would give Wackeen about … mm … six. Maybe seven. But Gus I would give 9. 9999999!
And he is so polite, as well. He actually carried our suitcase up the stairs for us! Needless to say we invited him in, but he wouldn’t come. He pointed at our BOYS BEWARE sign on the door and said, “I don’t think so!”

Tash said, “Oh,
that.
You don’t want to take any notice of
that,”
and immediately ripped it off; but he still wouldn’t come in. He said that he had “things to catch up on”.

Ali, meanwhile, had gone down to the basement to collect Fat Man, who has been looked after by Auntie Jay. She was down there for such a long time that Tash and I almost forgot about her. Ali just seems incapable of ever doing anything at normal speed. Then when she finally put in an appearance … no Fat Man! Auntie Jay wasn’t there, she said; she must be at the shops.

Tash said, “It’s taken you all this time to find out?” Ali said no, she had been talking to Gus. “About what?” said Tash.

Eagerly Ali said, “I was telling him about my telescope!”

Tash and I exchanged glances. We could just imagine Ali going on in that way that she does. You don’t get a word out of her for hours on end, then all of a sudden she
gets a bee in her bonnet and there’s no stopping her. I just hope she didn’t bore the poor boy rigid.

Week 6, Monday

Back at school. It’s not actually too bad; even Miss Selby seems to be in a bit of a better mood than she was. I passed her in the upper corridor this morning and she stretched her lips at me. Tash said it was a smile. More like a grimace, I would have thought, but maybe it’s the best she can. do. After all these years of being pursed together in a thin line, her lip muscles have probably got paralysed.

Everyone in our class was full of stories about what they had done over half term. Loads of people claimed to have met BOYS. Boys by the bucketful! Avril Mackie, in particular. She always claims to have met boys, but I have noticed that there never seems to be any kind of
proof.
I shall have proof! As soon as Grandad sends the photos. Tash seemed really eager to tell everyone about Wackeen, so I just sat back and let her get on with it. I heard her say, “It was Emily he fancied! He was all over her!”

Meg, Shauna and the others were dead impressed. I could tell from the way they were looking at me, like, “Wow!” Like seeing me through new eyes. I mean, the fact that
Tash
said he fancied me! Obviously if I’d said it, it would have been more like polite smiles and “Oh, yeah?”

It makes you feel good when your friends look at you with respect. And it is all thanks to Tash! It’s lovely that we are so loyal to each other.

Tuesday

Discussed Miss Selby over tea. (Spaghetti hoops and mashed bananas.) I speculated that the reason she is so sour and embittered is that she has never managed to get herself a man. Tash agreed that that might be the case, but then suggested that possibly she was sour and embittered to begin with, and thus no man will go anywhere near her. She added that of course she might be a lesbian. I said, “Not that that is any reason to be
sour and embittered because look at Auntie Jay … she is anything
but
sour and embittered.”

At this point, somewhat to our surprise as we didn’t think she had been paying any attention, Ali joined in and told us that we were talking nonsense. She said, “Auntie Jay isn’t a lesbian.”

Well, pardon me, but how does she know? She might be some kind of expert on astrology, or astronomy, or whatever it is, but when it comes to matters of s.e.x. she knows next to nothing at all!

Tash explained – quite nicely and gently – that just because one doesn’t like the idea of something, doesn’t mean it isn’t true.

“And in any case,” I said, “there is nothing
wrong
with being a lesbian.”

By now Ali had gone that dull sort of red which is what always happens when she’s bottling things up. Unlike me and Tash, who let it all hang out (or so Mum says), Ali is a bottler. We tried to encourage her. We told her to “Say it, whatever it is,” but she wouldn’t. She just muttered again that we were talking nonsense and went off to her broom cupboard, scooping Fat Man into her arms as she went.