Planet Janet in Orbit (22 page)

The gods of burnt biscuits left me no choice – I’ve had to give in and buy presents for my
extraordinarily
extended
family. I reckoned that as long as I got really inexpensive little things, I couldn’t be accused of rampant materialism or contributing to the commercial bloodbath that is Christmas. Disha went with me to the cheap shop beloved of Willow. (Not only is it cheap, but a lot of the stuff comes from China or somewhere like that. According to Robert, most of it is handmade by blind prisoners and orphans. So, if you ask me, that means it’s v close to being home-made.) It was brilliant. I got something for
EVERYONE
(even Sappho’s baby). And for a lot less than a T-shirt! Was so chuffed I treated Disha to lunch in the West End so we could do some shopping for ourselves while we were out. Waiting for the bus is usually
très
boring and irksome, but today it was
DISGUSTING
as well. There was
VOMIT
at every stop. D said that’s how you know it’s Christmas – that and the lights and the manger, etc. We had a brilliant time. Everybody always bangs on about how
IMPORTANT
friendship is, but it’s true! It’s only now the real Disha Paski has reclaimed her body that I realize how much I missed her while she was the
Zombie of Love
. Disha says the same. She says being in
Love
was
très
exciting and all, but now that it’s over, she wonders what it was really about. She says she was out of her mind most of the time because of Ethan’s jealousy. You won’t believe this – she
ACTUALLY
wrote to Aunt K!! Disha was But I Love Him! She said Aunt K was right (of course!) but at the time Disha thought she was v offhand and dismissive. I said I didn’t think that was true at all. I said that Aunt K was just demonstrating her incredible knowledge of human behaviour and she should’ve listened to her. Nearly got into another fight! (Disha’s still
très
defensive.) D said Aunt K may be right
NOW
, but at the time Disha didn’t realize what a deceitful creep Ethan was; she thought he was the
Love of Her Life
. I said so Love
Is
Blind. Disha said and deaf and dumb as well.

Got back to find that Robert and the Deadly Duo had arrived. The MC made
me
drag the tree in from the garden, of course, while she and London’s Answer to Bob Dylan sat round singing about holly and ivy and drinking environmentally-friendly mulled wine! Marcella wouldn’t help, because: (a) she didn’t want to get dirty; (b) she’d just done her nails; and (c) she prefers artificial trees (I wonder if it’s possible that
NEITHER
of them are actually Buskin’ Bob’s). Perverse as always, Lucrezia
INSISTED
on helping, then got a microscopic needle from the tree stuck in her hand and practically had to be hospitalized! Was exhausted by the time we got it inside. Since the fairy lights are still up and it doesn’t look like anyone’s going to take them down, we at least didn’t have to go through the drama of putting
them
on the tree. Marcella doesn’t like our ornaments, and Lucrezia was still
SUFFERING UNSILENTLY
, so I got volunteered to do the decorating while Buskin’ Bob went off to get the popcorn. That’s when he discovered we have mice (or possibly rats – something that likes popcorn, anyway). The MC came after me like a nuclear warhead! She was all atwitter because in searching for mouse holes she found the dishes I put away in the broom cupboard and is holding them responsible for the
INFESTATION
. (Shows how much she cleans up – that was
AGES
ago! And she says
I’m
a lazy cow!). Blah blah blah… She actually stood next to me while I washed them, with her arms folded across her chest! I said you better watch out or your face will stay like that. Let me assure you that having a boyfriend has done nothing for her sense of humour!

More trauma while the MC and the Eco Warrior continued to scour the kitchen for mouse holes. Lucrezia and Marcella locked themselves in the bathroom for safety from the rodents of London. Of course, it was Cinderella Bandry who had to race to Woolies for tinsel. What would any of them do without me?

Asked Marcella why she came
here
, to the Third World, for Christmas when she could’ve stayed at home with her artificial tree. She said because the Actress and the Entrepreneur have gone on a cruise. Also, she doesn’t mind about no presents, food, crackers or other festivities because they celebrated early at her mum’s, so she got all the stuff she wanted and they even let her have a glass of champagne. Here, if she wants a glass of water she’ll probably have to go to the well for it.

Sigmund had to fetch Nan this morning. I said I’d be happy to go with him and do the driving, but he
REFUSED
. He said he thought Nan was way too old to survive a journey with
ME
, even if she was a spy in the war. I went along for the ride anyway (he wouldn’t even let me drive
going
on the grounds that he’s too close to seeing another year in to risk it!). Even if it meant being squashed in the back with Mr Kipling and Nan’s bag, it was better than staying at home as Robert had everyone stringing cranberries (apparently not on the mouse menu) instead of the popcorn. For a change though, Nan left Mr Kipling at home. She said she was afraid he’d sit on Sappho’s baby’s face while it was sleeping and suffocate it. That started Sigmund off on how superstitious Nan is. I pointed out that Sappho doesn’t actually have a baby, and Nan said but she will. And all the space that the cat basket would’ve taken didn’t go to waste – Nan filled it up with placards. I said what’s this, have you got a job advertising the January Sales? Apparently there’s a Peace Vigil tonight. I said Christmas Eve’s an odd time to have a demonstration – everybody’s going to be at parties or getting drunk or whatever. Nan says Christmas is peace. Sigmund said tell that to the Vietnamese (whose present from President Nixon was to have Hanoi flattened by bombs, apparently). Of course, as soon as the Mad Cow clapped eyes on the placards she decreed that
I
should go to Parliament Square with Nan (it’s obvious that the MC was an Absolute Monarch in a former life and I was a serf). I said you mean that while everybody else in the world is watching television and eating chocolates, I’m going to be standing in the rain with Nan, trying to keep my candle from going out? The MC said that was precisely what she meant. D was already off visiting the family, but Marcus isn’t leaving town till the morning so I decided to see if he’d come with me. If you asked most boys whether they wanted to spend Christmas Eve standing in the cold and the rain with a bunch of fanatical Christians, they’d say no, right off. But not Marcus. Artists are meant to be moody and temperamental, but even though Marcus is an excellent painter (Mr Belakis says he’s a dead-cert for Saint Martin’s), he has a v patient and flexible nature – more like a fisherman than a
Creative Spirit
. Marcus said of course he’d come. He said it was better than watching
Toy Story
again – and he always likes to do new things. So off we went on the bus with Nan and her placards. There were a few more people down at Parliament Square than there were in the manger in Bethlehem – but not many. (And not a shepherd or king in sight!) My first thought was that they must all be homeless, but it turned out most of them were Quakers. Nan made straight for this old geezer with a golden lab. It was wearing a sign that said
LET LOOSE THE DOGS OF PEACE
. The old geezer was wearing a bowler hat and carrying an umbrella with a peace symbol painted on it. If you ask me, he looked like one of those blokes who walk around with signs saying that the world’s about to end, so I tried to stop her, but it turned out he’s the
PRIEST
that runs Nan’s Jesus group, the Very Reverend Jerym Noad. The dog’s name is Luke. Both of them seemed pretty pleased to see Nan (which must make a nice change for her). Nan latched onto them and more or less forgot about me and Marcus. Marcus said it looked like my gran’s got a beau. I said he must be mad. My nan hasn’t dated since the war. Also, she’s
WAY
too old for that sort of thing. Marcus said well, they seemed pretty close, and I said that was because she was sharing his umbrella. Anyway, for a few hours we just stood round trying to keep our candles from going out (as predicted by Janet Bandry!). Then a couple of people started singing “Oh, Holy Night!” and then a few more joined in until everybody was singing – even one of the coppers! It was like being in church – except for the rain and the fact that nobody was just
pretending
to sing; they were all belting it out like they really wanted God to hear them (or possibly the Prime Minister, though you can bet he wasn’t hanging round Parliament on Christmas Eve). I moved closer to Marcus because it was cold, etc. and he put his arm around me. It really is true that you
NEVER
really know what’s going to happen next. I turned to Marcus to say that I could murder a hot cup of tea and (wait for it!) …
HE KISSED ME
!!! Right there in front of Big Ben! I said, “What’s that for?” He said, “It’s Christmas,” and held up a piece of mistletoe he’d brought with him. So I kissed him back.

Unless I go senile like my mother, as I get older I’m going to remember this Christmas for the rest of my life. I couldn’t fall asleep because I could still hear everyone singing at the
Vigil
in my head. Also kept thinking about Marcus kissing me in front of Big Ben. (Is this the start of
Something
? Or is it the end of a
Beautiful Friendship
? If we start going out, will we hate each other by the spring? If we don’t hate each other and end up getting married – after my career as whatever is established – will our children all have one eyebrow too?) I was finally sort of drifting off when I heard someone stumbling about in the hall. (The bulb went out ages ago, but as per usual the MC’s too lazy to do anything about it. Not only is Love blind, but it wants everyone else to be blind as well.) I ruled out Father Christmas straight away. Then I ruled out the Mad Cow, Sigmund and Robert because I could hear them all snoring (it’s like sleeping with hogs, I swear!). I also ruled out Sappho (wrong direction, she’d be heading for the loo) and Lucrezia and Marcella (because I could see them). I reckoned it must be Nan, because everyone knows that old people are too close to death to sleep much. So I got up and tiptoed out of my room in case she was going to make a cup of tea. Nan likes me well enough (I am her only granddaughter, after all), but she’s never been exactly overjoyed to see me before. “Praise the Lord!” cried Nan. “Janet, I need your help!” I said for what? To make tea? She said to ring for an ambulance – she had to get back to Sappho because the baby was coming. Being Nan, I wasn’t sure what baby she was talking about. I mean, it could’ve been the Baby Jesus. (Also, it was
très
LATE
and I was shattered.) Nan wanted to know how many babies I thought we were expecting and I said you mean
Sappho’s
baby? It’s coming here?
Now
? Nan said it probably wanted to be near its mother. I said wouldn’t it be faster to get Sigmund to drive her to the hospital and Nan said Mary may have ridden on a donkey, but there was no way Sappho was going to the hospital in the Mini. Making phone calls is one of my natural talents, so I raced to the kitchen and rang the hospital. Then I went to tell Nan the ambulance would be here in probably less than an hour. Sappho was on the bed. (She wasn’t screaming the way women having babies on telly do, which I put down to the fact that she’s a rabid feminist and doesn’t like to seem weak or girly.) I’ve never seen anyone look pale
AND
flushed at the same time before. She looked like she’d just run ten miles. Except that her legs were wide open! (I couldn’t look! I’ve seen someone giving birth on telly, but it’s not the same as in your own home with a blood relative!) Nan said that less than an hour was probably a bit too late. The baby was coming right this minute! I said but doesn’t someone have to deliver it? I didn’t think they could just come on their own. Nan said she was an experienced midwife (is there no end to this woman’s talents?). She said she delivered many a baby in the war. (I’m going to have to check in the library and see if what I was told in school was wrong and it was Nan who won World War II!) She told me to go and boil water (I still don’t know
WHY
!). Sappho yelled at me to ring Mags. So I raced off to boil water and ring Mags. When I got back from that a scene of
gory horror
met my eyes. Nan was pulling this bloody, goppy-looking thing out of my aunt! [Note to self: In the story of the nativity there is
NO
mention of blood or goo or anything like that. Mary always looks like she got the baby in the market.] “Push!” ordered Nan, and Sappho (who usually won’t do anything anyone tells her to) pushed.
IT WAS SO GROSS
. I know birth’s meant to be a miracle and this brilliant thing, etc. but all I could think was, what a mess! And it didn’t even look like a baby. Not a human baby at any rate. (Here is
ABSOLUTE PROOF
that not all babies are beautiful – it looks like a pig!) Commandante Rose Bandry said to stop being stupid and go and wake my parents. By the time the ambulance finally turned up we were all in the kitchen having tea, even Sappho and the Piglet. Sappho’s naming it Germaine after that writer who’s always on the box giving her opinion on everything. I said she did realize everyone would call her Germ, didn’t she (which, if you ask me, is putting an unreasonable burden on a child that’s already off to a bad start)? But Sappho is oblivious to things like peer pressure. Having got the birthing bit over with, Sappho went straight back to Nobody Tells
ME
What to Do mode and refused to go to the hospital on the grounds that it was like going to a restaurant after you’d eaten dinner. Was just thinking of going back to bed when Nan’s priest and his dog rolled up! (See what I mean about old people and sleep? It was practically dawn!) I asked Nan what
THEY
were doing here and she said they’d come to share the fatted lentil loaf with us. She said she thought it was time Jerym met everybody. I said, “And why’s that then?” Nan got all coy (which is a sight
I’ve
never seen before, believe me!) and said, “Because he’s more or less part of the family, isn’t he?” I said, “Nobody told
ME
.” She said many are called but they don’t all come. (I never thought I’d have any sympathy for Mr Kipling, but this does explain why he was left at home by himself! Nan’s obviously chosen Jerym and his dog over her own cat. Poor Mr Kipling’s suffering the same Fate I did when Disha was in
Love
–
TOTAL NEGLECT
!) If you ask me, this family’s getting way too big. We’re going to have to move in with the Queen at the rate we’re going! (Or I’m going to have to get a bigger canvas!) It wasn’t like spending Christmas with anyone normal, but it wasn’t completely
DREADFUL
either. The food was all right. The presents aren’t going to make Jennifer Lopez wish she was part of our family, but they were all right too. Buskin’ Bob wrote me a song called “Planet Janet in Orbit” (which was actually funny – esp. if you’re not
ME
). The MC made me a photo album with pictures in it of me when I was little (which was touching in a sad and bittersweet way – and useful for my portrait). Nan knitted me this
très
cool jumper that she copied from a magazine. Lucrezia made me a bookmark with my name on it, and Marcella decorated a cigar box with glitter and sequins and a picture of me, her and the
Little Horror
in the rain in Wales (which I suppose I can incorporate into my art project, since it looks like I really am stuck with them) for me to keep jewellery in. And Sigmund broke all the rules and bought me ten lessons with a proper driving school because he said his nerves really couldn’t take any more. (And mine could?) Everybody
LOVED
my gifts. (Especially Nan! She said she’d been wanting to read that book. Robert said it was really good; he had a copy himself. Didn’t I say he’d never know?) Of course, after we ate, we had to sit around singing for a few hours. I didn’t mind it as much as usual, but I think that was because Jerym contributed champagne to the dinner. (I notice Robert didn’t tell
him
he could’ve fed some child in Africa for six months on what that cost!) Then we had to take pictures so that in years to come we’ll think we had a brilliant time. Not only did I have to pose with the Deadly Duo but I had the Piglet on my lap as well. (She pissed all over me.)