Take My Word for It (6 page)

A
PRIL
25

Rikki and I went to the Anzac Service in town. It was OK, not as boring as I thought it would be, and it did get us out of an Astronomy test in Science. A few weeks ago we had that film, ‘For Valour', and that changed my attitudes a bit. One of the guys in the film, who was killed in the evacuation from the beach, looked so like Peter. I was looking at the old diggers at the Cenotaph and trying to imagine them as the young guys in the film, but it was hard. They seemed so serious and responsible. In the film they were casual and carefree, not giving a stuff about anything. They were different from us, I think. In those days I don't think people our age questioned anything or analysed what was happening. Seems like the Government said, ‘OK, there's a war, you blokes grab a uniform and get over there.' And they said, ‘Oh yeah, righto, we'll have a bash at that.' Nowadays we'd say, ‘Well, what's the war for? Who's fighting and why? What other ways out of it did you try before you declared war? Why don't you go yourselves if you're that keen on it?'

I admire those guys who went though, and I felt really sad for them having so many mates killed or wounded, and I know we wouldn't be living in the kind of country we're in now if they hadn't gone.

A
PRIL
26

All I can think of is the Schoolgirls' titles on Saturday . . . I'm in a bad way, I tell you. I'm sleeping about as much as Alex the Bear, who has no eyelids, so his eyes are open 24 hours a day. Issy says Tash has been coxing in her sleep for the last week.

Kate talked me into putting some red in my hair tonight. But I think we overdid it—it looks pretty bright. Miss Curzon chucked a fit when she saw it but that's nothing to the one Mum'll chuck. She's coming to the Regatta, so she'll see it soon enough.

Mrs Graham's on a roll too. At tea she went sick at Sophie for taking salad when she already had a hot meal. Then at Assembly she realised a Year 8 kid had run away, and she went into a frenzy again. What I thought was funny was that she seemed more emotional about Soph ripping off some potato salad than she was about the kid who ran away. I mean, who pays for the food anyway?

A
PRIL
27

OK girls and boys, it's Auntie Lisa's laugh-a-minute time. Why do white sheep eat more grass than black sheep? Because there's more of them. What's stupid and yellow? Thick custard. What do you call an Eskimo's house if it doesn't have a toilet? An ig. Yes folks, and there's thousands more where they came from.

Mr Lindell, if you're never going to read these Journals, I guess we can write anything we want, whether it makes sense or not. Sally sells seashells by the quick brown fox. Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the crumpet, the cow jumped over a roundabout. The little dog laughed, and laughed and laughed, until its tongue fell out.

My favourite word is lambent. I'm not even sure what it means but it's beautiful, so I'll write it a few more times: lambent lambent lambent lambent lambent lambent lambent I think it's starting to lose its beauty lambent lambent lambent.

You know I seriously do like Peter. He wants me to go to a party with him on the first Saturday of the holidays. I rang Mum to see if I could talk her into it, but I hit a fresh complication—now Dad wants me to go to his flat for the first week instead of the last. He hasn't even told me, and Mum said it was stuffing up all her arrangements, so she wasn't in the best of moods. I tried to ring Dad but there was no answer.

I feel sick when I go near Dad's flat. Too many bad memories. I did something very stupid there, and I just don't want to think about it.

A
PRIL
28

Fourteen hours from now we'll be lining up and Tash'll be reaching for the toggle and we'll be shaking so much that bits'll start falling off the boat. The forecast is for intermittent showers, clearing around lunchtime. That could mean anything.

One of my ambitions is to make the Firsts, and realistically I could. I could even get there next year, which I'd love to do, and which would be quite something, doing it in Year 10, but I don't know. If I'm this nervous now, what would I be like in the Firsts? And I didn't do very well last week.

I hope Dad turns up, so I can get him and Mum together and work out the holidays. It's such a mess. Mrs Graham's been hassling me for travel arrangements, so in the end I told her I was getting the city bus and being met at Goold Street. That'll have to do.

Sometimes I'd love to have a really good friend, someone I could talk to about anything, and trust with a secret. I hardly seem to see Kizzy and Issy these days—we're only in the same classes for PE and French. But I was still reserved with them last year. There are things I want to talk about but can't. It gives me a big lump inside . . . maybe this is what being pregnant is like. I'll give birth to dark spidery secrets.

Rikki started calling me Refrigerator for a while last year, because she said I was so cold. I was even cold about that—I coldly asked her to stop, and she did. Inside I was crying.

Dad cancelling the Hawaii trip—that was the first time I'd cried for five years. I wasn't crying because I wanted to go to a tropical island and get a tan; I was crying because I wanted to have some time with Dad, and he'd let us down again. The last time I cried before that was when I was 9 and there was a barbeque at ‘Connewarre' and one of the kids broke a necklace that Dad had given me. She'd borrowed it, and she'd worn it even into the dam, and someone grabbed her and the necklace broke and nearly all of it was lost. Anyway, Chloe found me crying and told me I was a baby, so I decided I wouldn't cry any more. I didn't either.

Gee, I was determined not to get serious in this Journal tonight, and look at me. This is not the way to prepare for the biggest regatta of my life.

A
PRIL
30

Well, that's the end of the rowing season. I'm so sad, even if I hated it sometimes. But Saturday, oh Saturday, I'll never forget you. It was quite a race. MLC, Muirfield, PLC, Girls Grammar, St Margaret's and us. And after practising starts all week, we messed it up again—except that this time we got a second chance because St Margaret's broke and the starter recalled us. Skye turned round and said, ‘Right girls, luck's running for us now, let's take it.' And the second start was good.

All the crews got off well though, and after a hundred metres we were still pretty much level. Then PLC started to drop out and Muirfield nudged ahead. We passed a group of kids from school who were on the bank screaming for us, and gradually we moved up to second. It felt better than last week—we were smooth, and catching the run of the boat. Muirfield hit some rough water and we gained a bit more. But to my surprise I saw St Margaret's coming through on the other side of the course and looking really strong: no-one had expected that. I thought, ‘the bend'll sort us out' and it was good. Tash took the perfect line and we made up another length and caught Muirfield, but St Margaret's were still there. ‘Come on come on come on,' I was saying to myself. Tash was saying, ‘Keep the pressure on girls. Get it together two seat. It's the last race, put it in.' Muirfield wouldn't give up, and I thought St Meg's were getting a bit ahead of us. Going under the bridge they led us by a length, and we were equal with Muirfield. There was one gross moment as I realised we were being showered with spit by boys on the bridge, then Tash called for ten hard and away we went. The idea was to surprise the other crews, to jump them while we were out of sight. ‘Use your heads girls,' Tash urged. ‘Pressure in the stretches. More leg drive.' The boat seemed fast and eager this week. We came into sunshine again and looked across. We were an inch in front of St Margaret's, Muirfield were nowhere to be seen, but MLC had suddenly come up from nowhere. They'd pulled the same stunt we had. ‘We can do it Thirds.' Skye's singlet, in front of me, was the wettest I'd ever seen it. I was aching, sweating, trying to find more energy from somewhere. I knew Tash was going to ask us for the big effort and I wondered if I could give it and prayed that she wouldn't ask for it yet. But sure enough, it was, ‘Go for it girls, long and strong remember, this is what we've trained for.' And somehow, from somewhere some energy came. ‘Pain for gain girls.' MLC were beside us and St Margaret's across the course. Muirfield were coming again. The MLC number two, I'd never met her but I knew her so well. The pain in their faces, must have been like ours. The boat so smooth but where was the finish line? God let it be soon. Tash was full on: ‘Hard, damn hard. Hard back with those arms. Wind it up. Nearly there, fifty metres, crank it up. Go! Go! Go!' MLC slipping back slightly, and Muirfield half a length behind I was sure they couldn't catch us now, but St Margaret's, why hadn't anyone warned us about them? ‘HUGE effort girls, HUGE,' Tash begged us. We gave it. The bell took me by surprise! I looked across the river and couldn't tell, then I looked at Tash's face, and I could tell straight away. WOW! You mean it? You're sure? Oh! We've done it!

Yes, I want to record officially here that Tash, Skye, Stevie, Annabel and I are the Champion Schoolgirl Thirds for this year. It was fantastic, just fantastic. And the Firsts won too—good on them. That means they stayed undefeated for the season. They get to go to the Nationals in two weeks, so there go their holidays. I just wish they had Nationals for Thirds crews. We could have beaten anyone yesterday. I'm so happy about it, especially as it proves that my getting put up didn't do any harm to the crew. The Seconds came second and the Fourths came fourth, so really we should have come third.

M
AY
1

Tomorrow's the last day of Term 1, thank God. I didn't think it'd ever finish. We haven't got much Prep and we're allowed upstairs to pack soon, which is always a good slack. There was meant to be a Debate against St Paul's tonight but they cancelled.

Dr Thornley grabbed me this afternoon and told me she wants me to be Captain of the Year 9A Basketball team next term, which is fine, except that we've got a match the first Saturday back! With no training or anything! It's going to be a massive embarrassment but we're in a town comp and they don't take a lot of notice of our term dates. Dr Thornley's arranged for us to have a first round bye, and a second round postponement, because we'll be on holidays. So our first match will be the other team's third—not a good situation. Everything just seems a huge anti-climax after Saturday. How can I think about Basketball? I can still feel that boat, so light on the water.

M
AY
4

I'm glad I brought my Journal with me. I thought it'd be something to do. I knew I'd be bored, but not this bored. If things keep up I'll be watching ‘Those Around Us'. I went for a run yesterday, and even further today, right up to Bowman's Hill, then came back, rang Kizzy, rang Chloe, and started getting tea ready. I wanted to make a really good meal for Dad—I was going to do it last night, but he took me out to Mango's Restaurant, to celebrate end of term and the rowing. He brought along his ‘friend', Lynette, who was OK. She was trying hard, got to give her credit. She's good-looking enough, but I don't think she's too smart. She's a lot younger than him. Actually she looked about Chloe's age. She works as a PR consultant for Troy and Foreshaw: pretty glamorous job.

I hope this meal works out. I kept sampling everything while I was doing it, and it seems OK. I've made avocado and zucchini soup, then chicken wings in honey to follow, then chocolate and rum mousse. I'm full already from all the testing.

M
AY
5

It's a year today since I thought I was going to solve all my problems right here in this bedroom. It seems so unreal now. I've managed to go a whole year without properly thinking about it once.

I remember the date because it was the fifth of the fifth, which was the day Gramps died, four years ago.

The great meal didn't quite work out last night. Dad rang about 8.30 to say he'd be late. That's sort of a tautology isn't it, to ring at 8.30 to say you'll be late for dinner? We did tautologies in English.

I chucked the food away.

I got really depressed after that. Maybe that's the reason I remembered this date.

M
AY
6

Only three days before I go to Mum's. I'm glad. I can't stand being alone in this flat. I keep meeting my own bad dreams.

Ran to Bowman's Hill again today, and then over to the Observatory and back through Meridian. I ran hard, to get away, then had a spa and felt better. We're going to see ‘Out to Lunch' tonight, with Wendy and the Davisons and maybe the Peakes. Should be good, but I'd rather have been going to the party with Peter. I bet he'll go, and crack onto someone else.

M
AY
7

We've been at the football all afternoon. Norths won by four points—way to score guys. It's the first time I've seen them win in three years—I was starting to think I was jinxing them. Dad knew the full back, Andy Kobol, so we had a drink with him after the game. He's a nice guy. He said this season's their best chance for years, but I suppose they always have to think that, to be positive.

On the way back Dad started talking about the Olympics and everything. He doesn't normally say much about that. It was interesting. His father drowned when he was little—that's why he was so fond of Gramps, Mum's father. And his mother, who must have been a strong lady, made him take swimming lessons so he'd be safer in the water. But now Dad says he half regrets his swimming career. He says it gave him a lot of opportunities but, on the other hand, he didn't do as well in his schoolwork as he could have. He got enough marks for Uni but he didn't go—they were short of money—but the main reason was the swimming. He said the thing he regretted most was that he didn't do anything with his mind for those years that he was swimming competitively. He said that his brain and his imagination went into stalemate for a long time, and when he did start using them again it was quite hard and he felt he'd fallen behind. ‘Must have had water on the brain,' he said. He always turns everything into a joke. I wish he wouldn't sometimes.