The Complete Fab Confessions of Georgia Nicolson: Books 1-10. Louise Rennison
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p.m.
The house is covered in balloons. I even made a banner for the gate, it says VELCOME HOME, VATI.
Libby has made something disgusting out of Playdough and bits of hair. She is wearing ALL of her dressing-up things: her Little Red Riding Hood outfit, fairy wings, deely boppers and, on top, her Pocahontas costume. She can hardly walk about.
No sign of Angus and Naomi. They will have made a love nest somewhere. Pray God my knickers are not involved in any way.
First of the loons arrive.
5:00 p.m.
Grandad almost broke my ribs; he’s surprisingly strong for someone who is two hundred and eight. He gave me a sweet (!) and said, “Don’t send your granny down the mines, there’s enough slack in her knickers!!”
What is he talking about? Mum gave him a sherry. Oh good grief. That means he will take his false teeth out soon and make them do a “hilarious” dance.
6:00 p.m.
Excitement mounts (not). Uncle Eddie and Vati turned up on Uncle Eddie’s pre-war motorbike. Vati leaped off the bike in a way that might have caused serious injury to a man of his years.
Mum and Dad practically ATE each other. Erlack!! How can they do that? In public.
I think Dad was crying. It’s hard to tell when someone is as covered in facial hair as he is. He hugged me and went, “Oh, Gee…I…oh, I’ve missed you! Have you missed me?”
I went, “Nnnyeah.”
Then Mum gave me a look and I pretended my stomach bug was quite bad. We’d “agreed” that we would do the stomach bug scenario early on, so as not to arouse suspicion tomorrow morning. I was beginning to feel quite ill, actually. It’s weird having him back. At least Mum more or less ignores me. Vati tends to take an interest in, well, exam results and so on.
7:00 p.m.
More and more people arrived. The drive was full of cars and old drunks. Mum and Dad were holding hands. It is so sad to see that sort of thing in people who should know better. I wondered if I should tell Vati he was in a love triangle with George Clooney. But then I thought no, can’t be bothered.
12:30 a.m.
What a nightmare! All the so-called grown-ups got drunk and started “letting their hair down”. Well, those of them that had any.
Uncle Eddie was spectacularly drunk. He put one of Libby’s rattles with a sucker bottom on his head, to look like a dalek. Libby laughed a lot. Uncle Eddie was going, “Exterminate, exterminate,” for about a million years. But then Libby wanted it back and Uncle Eddie couldn’t get the sucker off his head. All the drunkards had to pull on it together, and when it eventually came off Uncle Eddie had a round purple mark about a metre wide on his forehead. Which actually was quite funny.
1:00 a.m.
I went down to tell them that some of us were trying to sleep, so could they turn down Abba’s Golden Hits, please. I saw them “dancing”. God it was so sad. Dad was swivelling his hips around and clapping his hands together like a seal. Also he kept yelling, “Hey you! Get off of my cloud!!” like a geriatric Mick Jagger, and as Mick Jagger is about a million years old you can imagine how old and ludicrous Dad looked. Very old and ludicrous, that’s how.
Mum was all red and flushed– she was TWISTING with Mr Next Door and they both fell over into a heap.
Wednesday October 20th
12:30 p.m.
Up at the crack of midday.
Mum in the kitchen in her apron making breakfast for us all. Oh no, sorry, I was just imagining being part of a proper family where that sort of thing happens. In Nicolson land the M and D are still in bed, even Libby was in there with them. I tried to get her to come into bed with me last night but she hit me and said, “No, bad boy, I go with Big Uggy!” (That’s what she calls Dad– Big Uggy.) Angus was somewhere with the sex kitten and I was just…alone in my room. In my bed of pain. Because my ankle still hurt, not that anyone cared. Very, very alone as usual.
As alone as a…er…an elk.
You never see elks largeing it up with other elks, do you? They are always on their own, just on a mountain. Alone.
Ah well, I decided to take a Buddhist viewpoint and just be happy that everyone else is happy…
12:45 p.m.
Doorbell rang.
I called down, “The doorbell to your home is ringing.”
No reply from the drunks.
The doorbell rang again. It would be Mr and Mrs Across the Road wanting to search the house for Angus and the Burmese sex kitten.
Ring ring.
I yelled as I hobbled down to answer it. “Don’t worry about the fact that I have a limp and a very serious stomach complaint that makes me too sick to go to school…I will get up and answer the door. You recover your strength from lifting glasses up to your mouths!”
Silence. Well, just a bit of snoring from Libby.
I opened the door.
It was the Sex God.
At my door.
Looking like a Sex God.
At my door.
The Sex God had landed at my door.
I was wearing my Teletubbies pyjamas.
He said, “Hi.”
I said, “Hhhnnnnnggggghhh.”
1:00 p.m.
I got dressed as quickly as I could. The Sex God said he would meet me by the telephone box so we could go for a walk round Stanmer Park. I dithered for about five minutes about lippy. I mean, if there is going to be snogging, is it worth putting it on? But then, if you don’t put it on, does it look like you are expecting to snog, and is that too much pressure for boys who might go springing off in an elastic band way again?
Ooohhhh, I could feel my brain turning to soup. I knew I’d say something so stupid to the SG that even I would know it was stupid. That’s how stupid it would be.
I didn’t take any chances with the nipple department. I wore a bra and a vest. Let them get out of that if they could.
I must be calm. Om. Om. OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod. My tongue seemed too big for my mouth. Do tongues grow? That would be the final straw if I had a tongue that just lolled out of my mouth. Shut up, brain!
1:25 p.m.
There he was, leaning against the wall! He was just so cool. His hair was flopping down over one eye.
When he looked up I went completely jelloid. He said, “Hi, Georgia. Come here.”
And I said, “My dad has grown a little beard and I thought I was going to be lonely as an elk.”
What in the name of pantyhose was I talking about? I’d be the last to know as usual.
The SG HELD OUT HIS HAND…to me!!!! Something I had dreamed of. Do you know what I did? I shook it!!!
He really laughed then, and grabbed hold of my hand. We walked to the park. Holding hands. In public. Me and a Sex God. I honestly couldn’t think of anything to say. Well I could, but it would only have made sense to dogs. Or my grandad.
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