Are These My Basoomas I See Before Me? (9 page)

three minutes later

Snuggly buggly. We have to sort of thread the snacks up to our mouths through the collar bits.

Rosie and Jools made me laugh a lot by doing duo Twix eating. One started at one end and the other at the other end. Vair
amusant
. And as Rosie said, “Strangely erotic.”

Wet Lindsay came by, but apart from tutting at us, what is she going to punish us for? Coat abuse?

She said, “The rest of them I am not surprised at, but I am sorry you have chosen to join in, Jas.”

Jas didn’t say anything, but after Ms. Slime had gone off we all went, “Ooohhh,” like in “Ooohhh, get you!”

geoggers

We are learning about deserts.

What would you do to survive if you got stranded in one?

I said, “Phone a friend?”

But, as usual, I got
nuls points
for my hilarious sense of fun and adventure.

It’s all so tremendously dull. You have to put your car mirrors out to catch the sun and blind any
passing plane etc. Dig a ditch and lie in it. Dear God, just kill me, that’s what I say.

Jas, of course, is in seventh heaven.

Her hand was shooting up all the time.

Saying stuff like, “You could catch water at night because of the diurnal change in temperature.”

Oh, SHUT UP!!!!

Just as I thought I might have to pull my own head off to stop the boredom, Rosie passed me a questionnaire that she had made up.

1. Who does least work?
   
2. Who eats most?
   
3. Who would make the most nutritious meal?
   
4. Who would be the easiest to track down and catch?
   

And my answer to all of the questions: Dad.

p.e.

As a “treat” and because the weather is so bad, Miss Stamp has allowed us to stay indoors. It’s a miracle really because she is such a sadist. Once she made us play hockey in the fog. You couldn’t see a thing beyond a few centimeters in front of you. You’d hit the ball off in the general direction of where you thought someone was and then go after it if you heard someone go, “Owwwww.”

When I reached the goal, the goalie had wandered off into the fog somewhere. By the time she got back I had scored nineteen goals, but Miss Stamp disallowed them.

Which is typical.

When I protested, she said, “Georgia, no one else was playing, you were just running about by yourself and shooting goals into an empty net. That is not hockey.”

I said, “Well, it’s my kind of hockey!!!”

She said I had taken stupidity to new heights, which is a bit rude.

Anyway, happy days. Today, as our special “treat,” we are playing shipwreck in the gym. While everyone else dashed about, the ace gang all climbed to the top of the wall bars. You’re supposed
to leap about from a piece of equipment to a mat to a whatever, but unless Miss Stamp actually came up the bars and removed us, we were technically safe.

Anyway, she didn’t notice at first because Nauseating P. Green created an accidental diversion by destroying the mini-trampoline.

While we were hanging about, we had a discussion about the fact that we all now had boyfriends.

Jas said, “I feel like I’ve known Tom all my life. I feel we have always been together.”

I said, “So do I.”

Rosie said, “It’s just a complete laugh with Sven.”

I said, “Yes, but do you feel natural?”

Rosie said, “You’ll have to ask Sven that, love!”

And laughed like a drain.

I said to the others, “But what I mean is, besides the snogging…what do you actually do with boys when you’ve got them?”

Ellen said, “I, well…how do you really know if you’ve got them or something…you know…what if you haven’t got them or something…”

I said, “Thank you for that, Ellen. It’s cleared it up for me.”

changing rooms

Getting changed. My brain is still burbling on. Should I see my “boyfriend” every day? Or every two days?

Is the Luuurve God going to sing to me every night?

Am I supposed to phone him and sing to him when it’s my turn?

Could I do an improvised dance instead?

How do you know these things?

Why am I expected to do lessons as well as boy stuff?

4:00 p.m.

Bell went.

Thank the Lord. Freedom.

cloakroom

I was just getting my coat on when Jools came in. I thought she’d gone home. She was a bit breathless.

“Gee, I’ve just run all the way back. Masimo is at the gate on his scooter.”

Ay caramba!!

Look at my head!

eight minutes later

Emergency makeup routine and upside-downy blow-drying hair. I have made the gang surround me so that I can get to the gate without my beret. It may look a bit odd, us all walking like a big crab, but that is the penalty of luuurve.

And it does mean that I can emerge with hair bounceability in front of my boyfriend (oo-er).

Masimo was sitting on the seat of his scooter with his legs crossed. He had jeans and Chelsea boots on and a long cardigan.

He said to the gang, “
Ciao
.”

And they all said, “
Ciao,
” back.

Then we stood around a bit.

Erm.

Masimo came and stood in front of me. He put his hands on my face and kissed me on the mouth. Then he said, “Hello, gorgeous.”

And he snogged me properly. I had my eyes open because I felt a bit, erm, unrelaxed with five hundred girls passing by.

The gang were shuffling about behind me, I could sense it, and then Jas said loudly, “Well, I’m off…er, are you off, Rosie?”

And Rosie said, “Er, yes, I’m off, off as, erm, anything.”

And they were all saying even more stupid things than normal.

“Hasta la vista.”

And “Toodle pip.”

After they had all gone, Masimo was still just casually stroking my hair and kissing me softly on the lips.

I didn’t want to push Masimo away, but…it was all a bit weird. I just wanted to get away from Stalag 14. At last I said, “Erm, shall we go?”

And he smiled and gave me a last big smacking kiss.

Just then, I caught sight of an elephant in a coat out of the corner of my eye.

Oh dear God, Slim.

I looked away.

Masimo gave me another smackeroonie and then put a helmet on my head.

And we roared away.

Perhaps it had really been an elephant in a coat. Perhaps it was a special surprise for the production of
Rom and Jul
.

You never know.

Ish.

café noir

Actually, it was quite cool being the “girlfriend” when Masimo’s mates and so on came into the café.

It is mostly band talk, though.

In fact, Masimo had to drop me off home and go talk to the band round at Robbie’s about their London gig.

Which is this coming weekend.

Am I a pop widow already?

10:00 p.m.

Learning my part for the school fiasco. AGAIN. I thought Merc-lurk-io was supposed to be the “larf” factor. All I can say, once more, is that Billy Shakespeare had a very odd idea of fun.

Oh dear God.

This is wubbish jokes.

Mostly I describe the Queen of the Fairies for about a million years. Apparently, all she does is drive along in a tiny wagon over “men’s noses as they lie asleep.”

They wouldn’t be asleep for long if someone drove a wagon over their nose. I tell you that for a fact.

Because, as it happens, I have had a wagon
driven over my nose. When I was asleep. Libby put Gordy in her Thomas the Tank Engine when he was a kitten and made him drive up the “big big hill” (my nose).

twenty minutes later

Oh, this is just wubbishnosity of the highest order. I can’t go on in tights and say this: “Her wagoner, a small gray-coated gnat.”

three minutes later

Oh, tee-hee-hee, I’ve got to a great bit. Jas’s big snogging scene with her “boyfriend.”

I’m going to phone Jazzy Spazzy.

Jas answered the phone.

“Jas.”

“What?”

“Why are you saying ‘what’ like that?”

“Like what?”

“Anyway, have you got to your brilliant bit in
Rom
and
Jul
when your boyfriend climbs into your bedchamber for the night?”

She put the phone down, which is a bit rude.

ten minutes later

OK, this is the summary of
Rom and Jul
.

It starts with some fighting between two families. When I say families, I mean boys stropping around and so on. Jul is not allowed to do what she wants by her vati because she is only a girl and he will not let her have any fun. (Typico.)

However, her family throws a party and Rom gate-crashes it with his mates.

I am in this bit and I go along with Rom to party and dancey aroundy like ye fool.

Which actually might be a larf.

I will note down some suggestions for Miss Wilson for my interpretation of my part (oo-er).

My dance note:
Perhaps Scottish dancing here.

After the party there is a bit more fighting.

Note for Miss Wilson:
Plenty of tomato ketchup here.

Then I have my big death scene and I die telling that hilarious world-renowned joke: “Ask for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave man.”

Do you get it? Do you see?

Die…grave…?

Oh, it’s a sidesplitter.

And thankfully, that is it for me. I can scamper off backstage.

To play around with the backstage lads (oo-er).

If the play gets that far that is.

Because I tell you this for free, if Dave the Laugh and his mates have anything to do with building the scenery, the balcony scene is bound to quite literally bring the house down.

five minutes later

Anyway, what happens next after I die? Not that I care because I won’t be watching.

Hmmm.

Rom and Jul spend the night together up to hanky-panky and possibly rudey-dudeys. We will never know because it’s all in some sort of verse about the moon and so on.

Then they get married secretly.

Note for Miss Wilson:
Papier-mâché heads can be “happening” and “now.” They have the “Bingo!” factor.

As a v. good plan, Jul goes to the vicar to ask for help and advice. (The vicar is not “Call me Arnold” but for all the use he is, he should be called “Call me Arnold.”)

Back onstage, Jul pretends to take poison and die, Rom finds her, thinks she’s dead so he commits suicide. She wakes up and stabs herself.

Note:
Plenty of blood capsules and liver here.

The end.

It’s a lovely, cheery little tale.

For the sake of the audience, I must make my comedy fight scenes last as long as possible.

Maybe I could accidentally kill Jul’s comedy puppet dog.

Note here for Miss Wilson:
Comedy dog gets it
.

11:00 p.m.

I heard Mum come in from her workshop. Uh-oh.

Dad called out, “Hello, Connie.”

But she is not talking to him so…there was a bit of silence and then she said, “Bob, would you run me a bath with some rose oil in it and get me a cold glass of wine, please?”

What? Yes, in your dreams, Madame Zara.

ten minutes later

He’s doing it. How amazing.

Surely just doing something with a boiled egg and a colored scarf doesn’t make Dad turn into, erm…unDad.

thursday september 29th

french

As they probably say in
la belle France, qu’est-ce que c’est le
point of France?

read-through

3:00 p.m.

Had our first proper read-through of
Rom and Jul
.

Our star-studded cast features:

The octopus in the ointment is of course waiting for Ms. No Forehead to come and be Rom.

Then Miss Wilson said, “I’m afraid Lindsay
cannot be at the read-through today. She has to go for an interview for college.”

We all pretended to cry and shouted out, “Ah prithee, lackaday.”

“Have you seen my tights?”

“Gadzooks!”

And so on for a while.

As Nauseating P. Green was only “townspeople,” she read the Rom part.

She was so excited her glasses steamed up.

I said to Jas, “You lucky, lucky tart.”

But Jas shoved me away.

She always takes these things sooo seriously. And I think she really does believe that it is the story of her and Hunky.

Halfway through, it was complete chaos with Rosie shouting, “Am I on? Shall I wear my Nurse’s beard?”

And Jas was saying stuff like, “But what is my motivation here? Why would I suddenly go across to the balcony window? Perhaps I heard a night owl?”

Absolute wubbish stuff. Jas insists on getting owls in everything. I just wanted to get to the fighting bit. I said to Miss Wilson, “Have you got the swords yet?”

And she dithered about, saying ridiculous stuff like, “Perhaps for now you could use a pointed finger.”

Is she mad?

Yes is the answer you are searching (not very far) for.

I said to Miss Wilson, “May I just illustrate my point
vis-à-vis
the ultimate crapnosity of trying to have a sword fight with a pointed finger?”

I did the bit where we have the fisticuffs and Tybalt stabs me (Merc-lurk-io) to death.

I put my finger up and said, “Tybalt, you rat catcher! Will you walk?”

Which is my fave bit actually.

Then Ellen (as Tybaltio) says, “I am for you,” or in Ellen’s case, “Er, is it this bit or something, do I, is it for…”

I said, “Ellen, just say ‘I am for you’ and then fight me to the death.”

Bloody hopeless.

Ellen came shuffling over, pointing her finger at me. Oooh, scary. I jabbed my finger at her and she stuck her finger in my waist. Which I didn’t notice actually, until I said, “Come on, get on with it. Stab me to death with your index finger.”

And she said, “I, er, I just did.”

I looked at Miss Wilson and said, “Do you see? We need swords and plenty of them, and blood. And maybe a bit of old liver. Have you got blood bags?”

Rosie said, “I can make severed fingers out of sausages.”

At which point a strange woman came in. In really bright clothes.

Miss Wilson was all over her like a rash. Bobbing like a bobbing thing.

“Oh, girls, girls, this is Miriam. She has come to improvise with us this afternoon. She has trained with Lecoq.”

ten minutes later

We just about managed to get ourselves under control. I thought Rosie might have to go to the school nurse, she was laughing so much.

Nauseating P. Green was the only one who looked a bit puzzled. She was blinking and saying, “What is so funny?”

Rosie said, “I don’t think P. Green understands how vair
amusant
a grown-up saying she has trained with Lecoq is. I don’t think she gets it.”

I said, “She wouldn’t get it if it came in a big bag labeled ‘IT.’”

And I am not wrong.

twenty minutes later

If we thought Miss Wilson was odd, Miriam took the biscuit oddwise. She was mega-odd. And a half.

She was dressed mostly in colored scarves, with two or three round her head, and she wore big shoes and kept falling over things.

Rosie said, “Is Miriam breaking those shoes in for a clown?”

Sadly, Miriam WAS a clown.

We weren’t allowed to just say our boring old lines. We had to do mime and clown gestures.

We had to find our inner clown.

three minutes later

Still, it passes the time.

Thank God, the final bell.

As we slouched off to the cloakroom, I said to the gang, “I’m bloody exhausted, and I will tell you this for free, I am not wearing tights and a big red nose.”

Jools said, “She won’t really make us wear the noses, will she? I thought we were just wearing
them to please Mad Miriam.”

Jas said, “Actually, I found it quite liberating doing the clowning. I found a different part of Juliet, sort of more playful. She is just a teenager after all. Like us.”

We all looked at her.

I said, “She is five hundred and fifty years old.”

Jas was ready to do storming off in the huffmobile when I said, “Actually, you might be right, Jas. If you and your boyfriend, Wet Lindsay, wear clown noses, that would put proper snogging out of the question.
Voilà
! Bob
est l’oncle
!!”

4:00 p.m.

Things are hotting up in the Miss Wilson and Rudi Kamyer department. They walked out of the school gates together tonight. Miss Wilson looked like she was showing him her inner clown. Bobbing her head around like a demented pigeon. Rudi took off his glasses and cleaned them with his scarf. That is how vair vair excited he was.

Luckily, it’s German tomorrow.

three minutes later

Crikey, Masimo is at the gates again! Back to the bloody loo for me for glamour work.

6:00 p.m.

They are awfully demonstrative, the Pizza-a-gogo types.

And also not inhibited.

When he saw me, the Luuurve God actually came through the school gates into the playground. And then he snogged me among the milling girls. Who were all squeaking and shrieking like wild geese.

It seems a bit sort of pervy snogging someone in the school playground.

I don’t know why.

I don’t associate Luuurve Gods with school.

Or anything to do with rudey-dudey or snoggy-poos.

In fact, when we had so-called Sex Education with someone called Mrs. Tampax (probably), I had my fingers in my ears and was humming.

It’s just not right….

The ace gang sloped off and Masimo took me home on his scooter.

in my private boudoir of luuurve

7:00 p.m.

He has given me a little locket.

Crikey.

It’s a heart with a photo of him inside.

He’s on a beach in his jeans and he doesn’t have a top on.

I must never ever ever mention this to Dave the Laugh.

I can imagine what he will say.

Anyway, shut up. I am not imagining what he will say.

10:00 p.m.

The Luuurve God says he will miss me when he goes to Lunnern Town this weekend. But a little break doesn’t hurt anyone, I say.

two minutes later

I seem to be the only one who does say it, though. The rest of the gang are practically glued to their boyfriends. What happened to the one for all and one for one and all in all fandango?

four minutes later

I heard Mum call out to Dad, “Bob, would you put a hot-water bottle in bed for me? And a cup of hot chocolate would be lovely. Thank you.”

I don’t know what is going on with Mum and Dad, but it’s weird.

Mum keeps asking Dad to do things, and he keeps doing them.

two minutes later

Unfortunately, she hasn’t said, “Hand over your money and make your way to Europe.”

one minute later

I have pinned a photo of the wildcats on the shed door so that Angus can look at them.

He likes it a lot. He stares and stares and then does that silent
miaow
ing thing.

Then he starts shaking.

I can see him through my bedroom window.

I thought it would be a relief for Bum-ty, but unfortunately, Angus divides his time equally between staring at his photo and budgie staring.

friday september 30th

Hurrah. Nearly freedom. Thank you, Baby Jesus, for leading us through another week of pain and tribulation (triple maths and
David Copperpants
).

Lurching out of assembly. Which was only bearable because Slim nearly fell up the stairs when she went onto the stage. She so clearly can’t see where her feet are.

Wet Lindsay came up to me after assembly and said, “Nicolson, the headmistress wants to see you in her office now.”

What had I done?

What?

I knocked on Slim’s door and she said, “Come.”

Oh God.

ten minutes later

One of the most embarrassing things in the history of embarrassmentosity has happened.

It was so horrific. I may have to go lie down in the loos.

two minutes later

Hawkeye was taking geoggers and when I walked in late, she said, “So pleased you managed to fit us into your busy schedule, Georgia. Sit down and treat us to your description of the formation of an oxbow lake.”

Oh God.

break

The ace gang all crowded round me at break going, “What happened?”

“Did the clown lady complain?”

Rosie said, “Yes, did she tell that we laughed at Lecoq?”

I looked at her.

I said, “She talked about snogging.”

Rosie opened her eyes wide.

“Oh my God.”

I said, “Slim has given me a sex lecture.”

The ace gang went, “Nooo.”

“Oh yes. An onion bhaji has talked to me about snogging.”

All the ace gang went, “Erlack, that is sooo disgusting.”

Rosie said, “Phone the police now.”

Oh, I feel dirty.

Rosie said, “Did she actually say, ‘What number have you got up to on the Snogging Scale?’”

“No, thank God. It was mostly ‘inappropriate behavior in front of the younger girls…’ ‘Running before I could walk…’ ‘Saving yourself for the right young man…’ ‘All in good time.’ In fact, a quick summary would be, ‘Blah blah blah rave on rave on. Tremble tremble…Have some pride and dignity.’”

Rosie said, “What she means really is, don’t tart around so much.”

“Thank you for that, Rosie.”

lunchtime

I feel besmirched.

I asked Miss Stamp if I could have a shower even though we haven’t got games today. She said, “Go on then, but I’m coming to keep an eye on you.”

Bloody hell, this place is quite literally like Prisoner Cell Block H.

two hours later

How dare Slim talk about my private parts.

I don’t talk about hers.

I don’t even think about hers.

Oh God!!!!

I just have done!!!

last lesson of the week and fortunately it’s

german

I may even get a light snooze in before home time.

I said that to the gang.

“I am
absolument
full of exhaustosity. I feel like I have been through the mangle of luuurve.”

Which I have.

Rosie has been reading her German for fools book again.

She said to me, “‘Prat’ is
Volltrottel
!”

It’s a
sehr
musical language.

“Basoomas” in German is
Möpse.

As the bell rang, Rosie leapt up and did comedy beard work.

She’d had her beard underneath her desk and she was pretending to beat it off her face and yelling, “Herr Kamyer, Herr Kamyer,
ich glaub mich knutscht ein
Hamster!!!”

Herr Kamyer blinked through his glasses and then said very quickly, “
Guten Abend
.”

And walked out quickly.

I said, “What did you say?”

And Rosie said, “I think a hamster is snogging me.”

4:10 p.m.

I was quite relieved when I got to the school gates and there was no sign of the Luuurve God. Slim is sure to be on snogging alert somewhere, probably with binoculars. She could quite easily hide them about her person and you would never know.

4:20 p.m.

As we walked along as a gang, it was nice and jolly.

And a relief to be away from Stalag 14.

And just to have the weekend stretching before me.

No one has got a proper plan for the weekend as there is no gig or anything, but we are going to have a ringaround. I feel really happy and free. I don’t know why.

Rosie said, “
Rom and Jul
could do with a bit of livening up, couldn’t it? Musicwise? Couldn’t we ask Miss Wilson if we could have a song or two? Cheer things up a bit in among the suicide and fighting?”

Hmmmm.

four minutes later

We are all skipping along (yes, I do mean skipping along), singing songs from
The Sound of Music
. It was that ye olde Shakespearean classic, “The hills are alive with the sound of tights, with tights I have worn for a thousand years!!!!!”

We were just all singing, “I go to the hills when my tights are loneleee…” when Dave and the lads leapt out from behind a tree.

I was so flustered I nearly fell over.

When I got my breath back, I said, “Have you been following us?”

Dave said, “Yes.”

I said, “Well, that’s not nice, is it?”

Dave said, “Yes. It is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It is. I particularly noticed your basoomas wiggling about when you were skipping.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“I liked it.”

“Don’t you feel ashamed, sneaking about and so on?”

“
Nein, ich
feel
gut
!”

I said, “I think you will find you are a bit of a
Volltrottel
.”

He said, “
Ach, Scheissenhausen!
”