Read Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 05 Online

Authors: Away Laughing on a Fast Camel

Tags: #Humorous Stories, #England, #Diaries, #Diary Fiction, #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #Fiction, #Interpersonal Relations, #Love & Romance, #Dating (Social Customs), #Nicolson; Georgia (Fictitious Character), #Girls & Women, #Adolescence, #Mammals, #Romance, #Humorous, #Animals, #Friendship

Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 05 (4 page)

BOOK: Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 05
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Rogue bore? He could have stayed here and just sat still in our school for a few minutes; it's full of rogue bores. Sadly, they do not explode.

 

And that is all the letter was about, just loads and loads of stuff about vegetables and sheep and lurching tables. Not one thing about missing me.

I couldn't believe it.

At the end it said,

Well, I must go, some of the guys are going down to the river. It has natural hot springs that run through it. We go down there at night and lie in it playing our guitars.

He was going down to a river and he was going to lie in it.

That was the big nightspot.

I wrote a note to Jas.

Jas,

SG just talked about opossums and rogue bores and a river and then at the end he said, “I hope you are well and happy. You're a great girl.

Gidday
Robbie x”

One measly kiss.

11:00 a.m.

After R.E. I was in a state of shock. I could hardly eat my cheesy snacks. We sat on the knicker toaster in the blodge lab and the ace gang had a look at the letter.

Jas said, “Well, he said you were a great girl.”

I just looked at her.

“And it's really interesting about the molten steam and the geothermal…stuff.”

I just looked at her again.

Rosie said, “Forget him, he's obsessed with marsupials. When he comes back he'll be playing a didgeridoo and be like Rolf Harris. Move on.”

 

Walking home with Jas. I said to her, “I cannot believe my life. I've kept reading SG's letter over and over but it still rambles on about steam and vegetables.”

Jas looked thoughtful (crikey) and then she said something almost bordering on the very nearly not mad. She said, “Maybe it is in code.”

“In code?”

“Yes, so that, erm, the customs people, or say it fell into the wrong hands, like your mum and dad…well, so that they couldn't tell what he had really written.”

I gave her a hug. “Jas, I am sorry that I ever doubted your sanity. You are a genius of the first water.”

in my room
4:45 p.m.

So let's see.

5:30 p.m.

If I underline every fourth word, that might work.

6:00 p.m.

I think I have got it! Phoned Jas.

“Jas, I think I have got it.”

“Go on then.”

“OK. It's sort of in shorthand even when it is decoded but…anyway…this is what it says: ‘Dear Georgia,

Me, you fantastic. When we were heaving and lurching about it was amazing. Me explodes every fifteen minutes. At night me in it playing you. You're great. Love Robbie.'”

There was a silence. Then Jas said, “Did you say, ‘me explodes every fifteen minutes'?”

“Yes…keen, isn't he?”

In bed
7:00 p.m.

It wasn't in code. It was just a really, really crap letter.

Nothing can be worse than how I feel now.

7:30 p.m.

Wrong. I cannot believe my vati. He has sold our normal(ish) car and bought a Robin Reliant. You know, one of those really really sad cars that only the very mad buy? It has got three wheels. It is a three-wheeled car. I said to Vati, “Why?”

He was all preened up and Dadish.

“It's an antique.”

I tried logic with him. “Vati, sometimes antiques are interesting—the crown jewels, for instance, they interest me—but this is just a really old crap car that only has three wheels.”

He was polishing it. It's red and it has a racing strip.

Vati said, “Hop in and I'll take you for a spin.”

As if.

Dad started rustling around in the boot and shouted to Mum, “Connie, come on, I'll take you and Libby for a ride in the Sexmobile.”

He is so ludicrously pleased with himself.

And Mutti was as bad. All dillydollyish and also she had a tiny skirt on. At least she had on a skirt, though, unlike Libby, who was in the nuddy-pants.

8:00 p.m.

In the end they all went off, including Angus, who I actually thought was driving the car at first. He had his paws on the steering wheel and was looking straight ahead. Even though I am on the rack of love, it did make me laugh. Then Vati's head popped up. Not content with the humiliatorosity of the Robin Reliant clown car, Vati also bought a Second World War flying helmet and goggles.

As they drove off, he wound down the window and shouted, “Chocks away!!!”

What does Mutti see in him? He must have been like this when she met him. Which means, in essence, that she likes porky blokes with badgers on their chins who are clearly mental.

At this rate I am going to spend the rest of my life with them, so I should get used to it, I suppose.

8:05 p.m.

I can't.

I would rather plunge my head into a basket of whelks.

8:10 p.m.

What is it with boys?

I may do some research on them for my part in
MacUseless
or
The Och Aye Play
.

I may as well, as my so-called mates can't be bothered to ring me.

8:30 p.m.

Phone rang.

If it's Dave the Laugh, I am going to give him the full force of my glaciosity. I hate boys.

It was Rosie.

“Gee?”

“Oh hi, I'm glad you rang because I am sooo—”

“Did you hear about the dog who went into a pub and said to the barman, ‘Can I have a pint and a bag of crisps please?'”

“Rosie, I don't—”

“The barman said, ‘Blimey, that's brilliant. There's a circus in town. You should go and get a job.'”

“Rosie, I have—”

“And the dog said, ‘Why? Do they need electricians?'”

And she slammed down the phone.

 

I am seriously worried about her dwindling sanity.
I'd just got back upstairs to my bed of pain when the phone rang again. Why can't we have a portable fandango thing, or alternatively, a servant called Juan who answers it?

Is it so much to ask?

This time it was Ellen.

“Georgia, it's me, I was, you know…for the party. Well, do you…think I…well, if you were me, would you or would you just kind of, you know…or not?”

What in the name of Hitler's panties and matching bra set is she on about?

“Ellen, how can I put this? What in the name of arse are you talking about?”

“Dave the Laugh, should I, you know, well, would you?”

Oh marvelous, I have to be Wise Woman of the Forest for my mates. Also it reminded me that if Ellen found out about the Dave the Laugh snogging scenarios, there might well be fisticuffs at dawn.

Still, I am not God and also I am very very busy with my own problems. My lurking lurker has to be dealt with before it makes a surprise appearance. Not that I will ever be going out again anyway; my lurker could grow to the size of my head if it
wanted to. Erlack, now I feel sick.

Ellen was rambling on and on about Dave the Laugh and how to entice him and so on. In the end, in sheer desperadoes I said, “Look, do you know why Dave the Laugh is called, you know, Dave the Laugh?”

Ellen said, “Er. Yes, why is that?”

I am being pushed to the limits of my nicosity, but I tried, God knows I tried.

“He's called that because he likes a laugh, and well, to be frank, Ellen, you are a bit lacking
vis-à-vis
the laughometer scale.”

9:00 p.m.

I wish when I am speaking complete and utter bollocks people would not take me seriously. It's not my fault that I have advised Ellen to develop an infectious laugh, is it? Oh, I am so tired.

9:30 p.m.

By the time the Circus family came home, I was tucked up in my bed with the lights off. Not that it makes any difference whatsoever.

Sure enough, it was tramp, tramp up the stairs. Open door, blinding light as Mutti switched it on.
Swiss Family Mad came and sat on my bed. Angus now had the goggles on and a scarf round his neck.

Mutti said, “Oh, it was really good fun, Georgie.”

Libby got in bed with me and started prodding my lurker, going “Spottie bottie boy.”

Then Vati came in. Into my bedroom. He was looking at me and I was only wearing my pajamas.

I said, “Did anyone notice that my light was off and that I was asleep? Did anyone get that?”

But they just went on chattering and giggling and Vati was playing tickly bears with Libby and Mutti.

Please save me.

thursday march 10th

maths

I am going to have to kill Rosie—she is soo overexcited about the return of Sven. Every time Miss Stamp turns round she does mad disco dancing. Miss Stamp turned round a bit sharpish and caught Rosie nodding her head like a loon. She said, “Rosemary Mees, what are you doing?”

Rosie said, “I was agreeing with your excellent point on the roundness of circles.”

She got a bad conduct mark for cheek, but she is still as mad as a hen.

She sent me a note: “What swings round and round a cathedral wrapped in cellophane?”

I tried to ignore her but she kept looking and raising her eyebrows until I thought she would have a nervy spaz. So I mouthed back “What?” and she sent another note.

“The lunchpack of Notre Dame.”

Dear God, am I never to be free?

english

Oh rave on, rave on. Not content with boring us to death with
MacUsless
, we are also doing two more books.
Wuthering Heights
, or
Blithering Heights
, as we call it, and
Samuel Pepys's Diary
. About this horrifically boring bloke called Samuel Pepys. He quite literally, from what I can gather, peeps about. He just looks up ladies' skirts most of the time and says “Prithee.” Still, we all have to accept he is a genius. On the plus side, the dirty bits will make Miss Wilson go completely spazoid.

4:30 p.m.

Walking home with Jas and Rosie when we saw
Dave the Laugh and Rollo and Tom. Jas went ludicrously girlish, even though she has been seeing Hunky for about a zillion years. I should know—I am like that bloke, Pepys's mate…Boswell, who had to write down all the boring stuff that Pepys did because he was his secretary or something.

I could write a diary about Jas.

“Prithee it bee Thursdayee and Missee Jas gotte uppee this morning and puttee on her pantee forsooth and lack a day, her bottom I declareth groweth by the minutee.”

 

I had a bit of a nervy spaz when I saw Dave. He was all cool. Rats. He said, “Easy girls, don't be selfish, there's more than enough of me to go around.”

I gave him my glacial look but he just winked at me. I couldn't smile even if I wanted to because I had got so much lurker eradicator (panstick) on that I couldn't move my face.

Rosie said, “Are you coming to Sven's teenage werewolf party on Saturday? There will be snacks.”

Rollo said, “It's not fish fingers, is it?”

Rosie looked pityingly at him. “Rollo, keep up, this is a teenage werewolf party.”

Dave the Laugh said, “Babies' tiny heads then, is it?”

Rosie said, “Now you are ignoring the sophisticosity of the occasion; it is of course sausages with lashings of tomato ketchup.”

Dave said, “Of course it is. See you later, chicklets. And Georgia, it is useless trying to ignore me—it just gives me the Mega-Horn.”

And he and the lads went off whistling the theme from
The Italian Job
.

4:45 p.m.

How annoying is that?

I could kill him.

He completely ignored my glaciosity.

Rosie and Jas were looking at me in a looking-at-me sort of way. Which I hate. Tom walked along with us. Jas was wittering on to him and holding his hand.

“I've found this stuff in the library about different kind of fungi you can eat. You know, for our wilderness thing. Well, if we got lost away from the others in the group we could eat it and not starve.”

I said, “Forgive me if I'm right, but are you talking about mushrooms?”

Jas got all huffy. “Well. All you are interested in is Dave the Laugh.”

I tried to look as bewildered as a bee who finds itself in an eggcup hat.

“I am not at all interested in Dave the Stupid Laugh—it's just that I am even less interested in gray shapeless things that lurk about the woods.”

They were all looking at me still.

I tried again. “Oh come on, get real…Dave the Laugh, I—me—I mean…”

Tom said, “So you do like him then?”

Jas said meaningfully, “Yes well, SOME people know SOMETHING about SOMETHING.”

Oh good point, well made. Not.

I wanted to kill her and make her eat her fringe. And her knickers.

Rosie, who had been practicing being blind and using me as her guide dog, said, “I've got an uncle in Yorkshire who eats cow udder as a treat.”

That can't be true.

Can it?

5:00 p.m.

Walking home all alone.

I let myself in when I got to our house.

I opened the door and yelled out, “Hello Georgia darling, take your coat off and come and warm yourself by this blazing fire! I've made a nourishing stew for you, and when your father comes home from being really masculine and rich we can talk about the four hundred pounds a week you need for a decent pad in London.”

As if.

6:00 p.m.

Mum is out tossing herself around a room full of red-faced loons in leotards. Again. Who knows where Dad is. Out in his clown car causing havoc.

Brrr
, it is so nippy noodles and dark.

Got into bed it was so chilly bananas.

 

Oh I am so cold and bored.

7:00 p.m.

Phone rang. It was Ellen.

“I heard you saw Dave on the way home and he's definitely coming on Saturday because he said he was and that means he is. Do you think?”

BOOK: Louise Rennison_Georgia Nicolson 05
6.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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