Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 06 (15 page)

Fed up now. I wonder what the ace gang are doing? I bet they're talking about the gig. I bet they're talking about me and Masimo. They had better not say anything bad.

What is there to say that is bad?

I hope they are keeping up the staring campaign against Wet Lindsay. I am glad I am not in today because she can't show off in front of me.

2:00 p.m.

I have shared two boyfriends with her.

2:10 p.m.

But Robbie, er, I mean the guitar plucker only went out with her because she was so upset when he tried to dump her. And she said she was engaged to him when she wasn't. I think she must be a bit unhinged.

She should be.

Actually, the guitar plucker acted very nicely about her and me. What I mean is, he dumped her. If anyone is asking for a good dumping, it is her. If he hadn't gone to Kiwi-a-gogo land, all of this wouldn't have happened.

I wonder what would have happened.

3:00 p.m.

I got out his letter and photo, which I had hidden at
the back of my drawer. I took them back into bed. What does he say?

“I think about you a lot.”

Huh.

He didn't think about me enough to not go to the other side of the world.

He was my first proper love.

They say you never forget that.

I looked at the photo. He was vair good-looking, and he was very nice to me.

Even in front of his mates he would always put his arm round me and didn't try to hide me away.

3:45 p.m.

I thought about all the good times.

Maybe I should write to him?

4:00 p.m.

I think I will write.

And maybe send a photo.

I could send him one of when we were in Hamburger-a-gogo. It would remind him of the plans we had to go there with the band.

Ha.

I won't send him the one of me riding the bucking bronco stool.

4:10 p.m.

Nor with that very very old bloke in the Elvis outfit.

5:00 p.m.

Or one of the ones me and Jas took in private with the bison horns.

No one must ever see those. No one. Not another living soul.

I must remind Jas.

I'll do it now.

5:15 p.m.

Phoned Jas.

“Jas, it's me.”

“Hellooooo, how are your feet?”

“Bandaged up. Listen, you must never show anyone our bison horn pictures.”

“Oh blimey. Hahahahaha, I'd forgotten about them. What a hoot and a half that was.”

“Yes, I know that we thought it was very
amusant
at the time, Jas, but pictures of us in the
nuddy-pants wearing just bison horns might, well, you know…if they fell into the wrong hands.”

She was chewing and thinking.

“Oh, yeah, I see what you mean. Well, yes, I will only show them to Tom when he gets back. Do you know how many minutes it is until he is back? It's two hundred thousand—”

“Jas, shut up about minutes—you are not a Time Lord, more's the pity. Tell me everything that happened at Stalag fourteen today.”

6:00 p.m.

Well, that was a very interesting conversation. Not. I will tell you what happened at Stalag 14. Nothing. I said to Jas, “Were people worried about me, that I had this tummy bug and so on?”

She said, “No, because we all knew it was because your shoes were too small. We said they were too small for your huge feet.”

“Jas, I haven't got huge feet.”

“You have now! Hahahahahaha.”

Oh charming. I said, “Oh yes, very funny, Jas. If you want a really good laugh why don't you just pop down to casualty.”

6:35 p.m.

Anyway, the short and short of it is that no one said anything interesting and even Wet Lindsay wasn't there because she was doing home study.

6:45 p.m.

Ohmygod. I've just had a horrible thought. Home study—that could mean home study with Masimo.

Surely he couldn't like her.

Surely.

tuesday june 7th

I'm sick of being an invalid now.

I am sooooo bored and I am, it has to be said, completely hairless. I have spent hours plucking.

6:30 p.m.

Phoned Jas.

She is not home; they have all gone off to the pictures.

Boo.

I am even looking forward to my family coming home—that should give you some idea of how desperate I am.

6:50 p.m.

Mum and Dad and Libbs came in.

“Gingee, Gingee, it's meeeeeeeeeeee!!!”

I could hear her panting up the stairs to my room. She kicked open my bedroom door and ran from the door and leapt onto the bed, covering me with kisses.

“I LOBE you, my big big sister.”

I couldn't get her off me.

“Libby, just let me…”

“Kissy kissy kiss, snoggy snog.”

“That's enough, now let me…”

“Mmmmmm, groovy baby.”

What is she talking about? She is supposed to be going to kindergarten to learn how to grow up, not turn into an even madder person.

Then she stood up on the bed and started thrusting her hips out and singing her favorite:

“Sex bum sex bum I am a sex bum.”

Quite spectacularly mad.

7:30 p.m.

Mmmmm, quite nice supper of shepherd's pie. On a tray in bed. Mum didn't make it herself, of course, but at least she bothered to buy it. I think it may
have given me the strength to go downstairs and watch TV to try and forget my sorrows.

7:33 p.m.

Oh no, I can't, otherwise Dad will spot the shopping bags I have on the end of my feet.

Maybe I can ask him to bring the TV up to my room. It's the least you can do when there is a sick person in the house.

7:35 p.m.

Just about to suggest this when I heard the roar of an engine.

Knowing my life, it will be Grandad on a motorbike in a leather all-in-one suit. And Maisie on the back in a knitted bikini.

I peeped out of my window and practically fell out of it.

It was Masimo!!! Honestly. On his scooter. He was under my window and just switching the engine off.

I must run run like the wind to…oh no, I couldn't run. I must hobble hobble like the wind to…no, no, what I must do is I must remain calm. Calm calm. Whilst all around you everyone is
losing their minds you must, you must…put some bloody makeup on immediately, you complete arse!

7:38 p.m.

Scrabble, scrabble, mascara…lippy and gloss…eyeshadow, please please don't do shaky hand now—I don't want to be a panda with huge feet!!!

Fluffy hair fluffy hair…

What was going on now? What? What???

Mid-mascara, did a hobble trot to the window and looked out.

There was just his scooter there. Had Angus eaten him? Then I heard the doorbell ring.

Oh, god god.

Put something on, disguise the feet!!!

Easier said than done.

I must have something.

Scrabbled through my wardrobe.

What about my extralong jeans? Yes, yes, good thinking. Extralong jeans, bit of a crouchy leg and…I looked in the full-length mirror. Yes, yes, that would do, you couldn't see my feet at all. I must remember to crouch, though. And not hobble.

Right, right, I am ready for when Dad starts his ludicrous shouting up the stairs. It's OK, though, because he will just say tummy bug, not shoes cut off.

I must not mention shoes cut off. No one should.

Good, good, that is good.

Excellent.

7:40 p.m.

What was going on?

Couldn't they understand what Masimo was saying? His English wasn't that bad.

8:00 p.m.

What was going on? Surely Masimo hadn't come round to see my mum and dad, had he? With my life, I wouldn't be surprised by anything. Perhaps like Dave the Laugh, Masimo fancies my mum.

I crept and shuffled to the top of the stairs. They were in the living room, so I could just hear the muffled sound of voices. Then Libby came bustling along the hall and opened the door to the front room.

She waddled into the lounge, saying, “Gordy
has done a big poo in his din dins.”

Dear Lord.

8:10 p.m.

I had to rush back into my bedroom because Mum suddenly came out of the room to the kitchen and shouted up to me: “Georgia, I know you are at the top of the stairs. Come down—you have a visitor and your father wants to speak to you.”

My father?

Wants to speak to me?

I have a visitor?

It's like
Blithering Heights
. If Masimo is dressed in tight breeches and wearing a cravat I will truly go mad.

I felt really really sick.

I went into the kitchen first.

Mum was making filter coffee. Blimey. I said to her, “What is going on?”

She said, “Oh, we were just having a chat with Masimo. He's lovely isn't he?”

“Having a chat? Having a CHAT? You have left Vati having a CHAT with someone I never ever want him to talk to about anything. Having a chat about what?”

“Well, he has come to ask us, and in particular your father, if it is alright for him to take you out to dinner next week.”

I was quite literally speechless.

8:15 p.m.

Mum made me go into the front room.

Masimo was sitting on the sofa with Libby on his knee. He stood up with her in his arms when I walked in and then he smiled. And when he did that my heart sang. Despite the fresh hell that was about to occur he was soooooo gorgey.

Vati was standing up in front of the fireplace with his hands behind his back. Then I realised he was smoking a cigar. He never smoked cigars except at Christmas, and then he was sick. What the hell was going on?

He said, “Ah, hello, Georgia. Masimo and I have just been having a chat.”

Oh dear God, he was using that word again.

Masimo said, “
Ciao
, Georgia.”

My vati said, “Do sit down, Georgia. Connie.”

It was like being in a cross between a horror film and
My Fair Lady
.

I didn't know what else to do, so I sat down and
so did Mum. As soon as we did, Vati and Masimo sat down as well. I fought an overwhelming desire to stand up again to see if they would stand up as well.

Dad said, “Masimo has come round to ask if it is alright for him to take you out and I think after careful thought and a few ground rules that…it would be…acceptable to your mother and myself.”

Has he really snapped? He works for the Water Board, drowning people and driving them out of their homes, but he is not in the Mafia.

He went rambling on about curfews and behavior. Like the Godfather. He will probably expect us to call him Il Ministrone. Complete and utter bollocks. About honor and his family reputation and so on. I was so so embarrassed. And Masimo just said stuff like “Of course, I will, how you say, take
molto—mi dispeagia
, I am sorry for my English, I will take great care of your daughter.”

He smiled at me. “She will even have her own helmet.”

And Mum laughed like a crazy person, like “helmet” was the funniest word she had ever heard.

9:00 p.m.

I only got a chance to speak to Masimo right at the end of the nightmare scenario. When he went out to go off on his bike I went out to the gate with him. I said to him, “Masimo, I am so sorry about my parents. I am
dispiaggio
times a million about them.”

He smiled and said, “I thought it was the only way I will get your attention. Now I have your attention, no?”

“Oh, yes, you have sure as sure as…eggs have my attention, matey.”

He laughed.

“I like it when you speak, it is like…”

“Rubbish?”

He laughed again and handed me a piece of paper.

“Here, this is for you. Phone me,
caro
, and let me know if you still would like to see me on Tuesday.
Ciao
.”

He looked at me with that unwavering look he has. Oh dear God, I had crumbly knees and jelloid knickers and I sooo wanted to go to the piddly diddly department.

Then he roared off.

9:05 p.m.

Went back into the house. With a bit of luck I could get in without being seen by the seeing-eye dogs. But oh no, no such luck. Vati came out of the front room.

“He seems like a nice young chap. Keen on sports and so on. Good family, healthy lifestyle.”

I said, “Shiny nose, glossy coat, that sort of thing.”

He said, “I said to your mum that you are not old enough for boys, you should be concentrating on your studies.”

Oh blimey, I had wandered into the twilight world of Daddom. I wandered off as quickly as I could hobble, saying, “Oooh, do you know, Dad, I've come over all queasy. I must go back to bed.”

in my bedroom

Yessssss! Double yesss and wow! I had a date with the Luuurve God. I looked at the piece of paper he had given me. It said “Masimo 766739. Phone me. Please.”

I had his phone number. No waiting around for him to call me. No more S'later for me!! I am a s'later-free zone!

10:00 p.m.

God, I'm happy.

The photo of the guitar plucker was on the bed looking at me.

Maybe I will write to him.

As a friend.

A loving old friend.

A loving friend who has gone on to more Italian Stallion–type things!

I wish I could ring everyone and tell them. I am deffo going to school tomorrow even if Jas has to carry me there.

10:30 p.m.

I will never sleep from excitemondo!

What shall I wear? Are we really going to go out to dinner or is that just a snogging ploy?

I've never been out to dinner with a boy before.

11:00 p.m.

I tell you this, I am not having cappuccino and the foam beard experience.