‘Dancing in my nuddy-pants!’

“Like what? And don’t tell me about collecting frog spawn.”

“Well, Tom is going to do ecology and so on…do you know we found some badger footprints in the park near—”

“Jas, I said name an interesting thing that you and Tom have done lately, not something about badgers.”

But she had gone off into the twilight world of her brain. “Tom gave me a love bite.”

“Non.”

“Oui.”

“I’ve never seen it.”

“I know.”

“Where is it?”

“On my big toe.”

9:00 p.m.

I am worried that in my capacity as the Sex God’s girlfriend I may have to give a celebrity interview about my life and Jas will have to come on it. And she will talk rubbish. And perhaps show her love bite. Or pants.

9:15 p.m.

Still, it has taken her mind off the Dave the Laugh fiasco.

I will have an early night to prepare myself for heavy snogging duties. I want to look all gorgey and marvy for SG and not have those weird little piggy eyes that I get sometimes when I have been kept awake all night by loons (Angus and Libby). Mutti has let Libbs sleep in the cat basket with Angus tonight, so I am safe.

9:35 p.m.

Ah…very nice and cosy in bed, although I am having to sleep sitting up because I have rollers in my hair for optimum bounceability.

9:40 p.m.

Phone rang. Vati yelled, “Georgia, another one of your little mates on the phone. You’d better hurry, I think it’s an emergency. She might have run out of lip gloss.”

Vair vair vair amusant, Vati.

As I came down the stairs, he said, “We mean no harm, take us to your leader,” because of my hair rollers. He really is in an alarmingly good mood.

It was Ellen. Uh-oh. I hoped she couldn’t detect my red minxiness.

“Georgia, can I ask you something?”

“Er, like what?”

“Well, you know Dave the Laugh?”

DID I KNOW DAVE THE LAUGH????!!!!!!

I sounded a bit vague. “I know Dave the woman, but Dave the laugh…? Oh er, Dave the Laugh…yes, what about him?”

“Well, you know I really think he’s groovy and so on and he did the lip nibbling thing, and that was, you know, quite groovy and not, you know, ungroovy…and how I have thought he is quite groovy for a long time and lip nibbling would, like, mean he thought I was groovy as well…”

(It was going to be the twenty-second century at this rate by the time she got round to telling me what in the name of Father Christmas’s elfin mates Nobby and Les she was on about.)

She was still rambling on for England. “Well, anyway, it’s nearly Tuesday.”

“Yes and…?”

“Well, he hasn’t called me yet,” she went on. “Well, what should I do?”

“Did he say he’d call?” (Not that I am remotely interested in what my ex-snogees say. I am just being a great pal.)

“Not exactly.”

“What did he say exactly?”

“He said, ‘I’m away laughing on a fast camel – see you later.’”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“It’s the old ‘see you later’ thing, isn’t it?”

“You mean it might be see you later, as in see you later not see you later?”

“Exactamondo.”

She went on and on about Dave the L and about how surely he wouldn’t nip libble her if he didn’t like her, etc., etc.…I was so tired I tried to lie down on the floor, but couldn’t because of my rollers. Good Lord, what am I? The Oracle of Delphinium?

Eventually she rang off.

10:00 p.m.

What if Ellen finds out about me and Dave the Laugh? Will she still like me and realise that it is just one of those things? Or will she beat me to within an inch of my life?

How would I feel if the boot was on the other cheek?

I wish I wasn’t so caring and empathetic. As Hawkeye said in English, I have a very vivid imagination.

10:15 p.m.

Actually what she said was that I had a “hideous” imagination. But she is just jealous because she has no life to speak of (apart from torturing us).

10:40 p.m.