Angus, thongs and full-frontal snogging

The tunnel of love dream I’ve just had, where this gorgey bloke is carrying me through the warm waters of the Caribbean, turns out to be Libby’s wet pyjamas on my legs.

Change bed. Libby not a bit bothered and in fact slaps my hand and calls me “Bad boy” when I change her pyjamas.

Thursday August 27th

11:00 a.m.

I’ve started worrying about what to wear for first day back at school. It’s only eleven days away now. I wonder how much “natural” make-up I can get away with? Concealer is OK – I wonder about mascara. Maybe I should just dye my eyelashes? I hate my eyebrows. I say eyebrows but in fact it’s just the one eyebrow right along my forehead. I may have to do some radical plucking if I can find Mum’s tweezers. She hides things from me now because she says that I never replace anything. I’ll have to rummage around in her bedroom.

1:00 p.m.

Prepared a light lunch of sandwich spread and milky coffee. There’s never anything to eat in this house. No wonder my elbows stick out so much.

2:00 p.m.

Found the tweezers eventually. Why Mum would think I wouldn’t find them in Dad’s tie drawer I really don’t know. I did find something very strange in the tie drawer as well as the tweezers. It was a sort of apron thing in a special box. I hope against hope that my dad is not a transvestite. It would be more than flesh and blood could stand if I had to “understand” his feminine side. And me and Mum and Libby have to watch whilst he clatters around in one of Mum’s nighties and fluffy mules... We’ll probably have to start calling him Daphne.

God, it’s painful plucking. I’ll have to have a little lie down. The pain is awful, it’s made my eyes water like mad.

2:30 p.m.

I can’t bear this. I’ve only taken about five hairs out and my eyes are swollen to twice their normal size.

4:00 p.m.

Cracked it. I’ll use Dad’s razor.

4:05 p.m.

Sharper than I thought. It’s taken off a lot of hair just on one stroke. I’ll have to even up the other one.

4:16 p.m.

Bugger it. It looks all right, I think, but I look very surprised in one eye. I’ll have to even up the other one now.

6:00 p.m.

Mum nearly dropped Libby when she saw me. Her exact words were, “What in the name of God have you done to yourself, you stupid girl?”

God I hate parents! Me stupid?? They’re so stupid. She wishes I was still Libby’s age so she could dress me in ridiculous hats with earflaps and ducks on. God, God, God!!!

7:00 p.m.

When Dad came in I could hear them talking about me.

“Mumble mumble... she looks like... mumble mumble,” from Mum, then I heard Dad, “She WHAT??? Well... mumble... mumble... grumble...” Stamp, stamp, bang, bang on the door.

“Georgia, what have you done now?”

I shouted from under the blankets – he couldn’t get in because I had put a chest of drawers in front of the door – “At least I’m a real woman!!!”

He said through the door, “What in the name of arse is that supposed to mean?”

Honestly, he can be so crude.

10:00 p.m.

Maybe they’ll grow back overnight. How long does it take for eyebrows to grow?

Friday August 28th

11:00 a.m.

Eyebrows haven’t grown back.

11:15 a.m.

Jas phoned and wanted to go shopping – there’s some new make-up range that looks so natural you can’t tell you have got any on.

I said, “Do they do eyebrows?”

She said, “Why? What do you mean? Do you mean false eyelashes?”

I said, “No, I mean eyebrows. You know, the hairy bits above your eyes.” Honestly friends can be thick.

“Of course they don’t do eyebrows. Everyone’s got eyebrows, why would you need a spare pair?”

I said, “I haven’t got any any more. I shaved them off by mistake.”

She said, “I’m coming round now, don’t do anything until I get there.”

Noon

When I open the door Jas just looks at me like I’m a Klingon. “You look like a Klingon,” she says. She really is a dim friend. It’s more like having a dog than a friend, actually.

6:00 p.m.

Jas has gone. Her idea of help was to draw some eyebrows on with eyeliner pencil.

Obviously I have to stay in now for ever.

7:00 p.m.

Dad is annoying me so much. He just comes to the door, looks in and laughs, and then he goes away... for a bit. He brought Uncle Eddie upstairs for a look. What am I? A daughter or a fairground attraction? Uncle Eddie said, “Never mind, if they don’t grow back you and I can go into showbiz. We can do a double act doing impressions of billiard balls.” Oh how I laughed. Not.

8:00 p.m.

The only nice person is Libby. She was stroking where my eyebrows used to be and then she went off and brought me a lump of cheese. Great. I have become ratwoman.