LITMIR.BIZ

      3. The third thing was saying how we had to wear those hideous berets and how our school uniform was naff. But I like our school uniform! Lily’s the one that thinks it’s naff.

      I suppose I was trying to be cool. Which is truly pathetic! But going on about fox hunting, that was really dumb. There’s a girl at school, Justine Bickerstaff, that in the hunting season she gets on her horse and gallops madly about the countryside with packs of hounds. She has even done this revolting thing called cubbing, where they tear dear little sweet innocent fox cubs to pieces. I hate that! I hate that so much. But Justine gets into this simply mega-rage if anyone ever says about banning blood sports. For all I knew, Katie could be the same. And I had gone and lectured her and now I had probably RUINED EVERYTHING.

      I was just so relieved when I got her next letter. All that worrying, all for nothing! (It usually is, but I still do it.) I knew as soon as Mum handed me the envelope that things were all right. Instead of the little furry cat stickers there was one that said, STOP HUNTING WITH HOUNDS. So I hadn’t upset or offended her! She was on my side. Hooray!

      “Is that from the Blob?” said Lily. “Are you going to open it this time?”

      I said, “No. I like to read my letters in private.”

      Lily tossed her head and said, “Letters! You’re so uncool. Why don’t you e-mail?”

      “You could, you know,” said Dad.

      He’s always trying to get me on the computer. I am not terribly awfully into them, to be honest. Lily is. She is on it the whole time, whizzing about doing things, sending e-mails to all her friends. She sees them all day and e-mails them all night! When she is not text-messaging on her moby.

      “Think about it,” said Dad. “It would be far more fun than scribbling on bits of paper!”

      “But she might read them,” I said.

      “Me?” Lily gave a hoot of laughter. “Who’d want to read what you and the Blob have to say to each other?”

      Dad said, “Violet, I give you my word, nobody but nobody would read your e-mails. They would be for your eyes only.”

      That’s what he says. But I bet she’d still find a way!

      “Why not ask?” said Dad. “Ask her if she’d like to.”

      I said that I would, ‘cos I like to make him happy and it is true that most people seem to prefer sending e-mails to writing real letters. Maybe if I’d e-mailed Greta we would still be in touch.

      As soon as tea was over, I rushed upstairs to my room. (Mum calls it my burrow.) I tore open the envelope and a whole wodge of paper fell out. Which is far more fun than e-mails, if you ask me!

       Hi, Violet!

       Don’t worry, you have not offended me! I HATE people that kill foxes. So does my mum. We have both filled in petitions against it. If I see a badge I will buy one and wear it.

       I laughed over your snake joke! Here is one for you. A joke, I mean. Not a snake joke. (It is a knock-knock joke.)

       Knock knock!

       Who’s there?

       Ivor.

       Ivor who?

       Ivor let me in or I’ll break the door down!

       Har har!

       Your school uniform doesn’t sound naff, it sounds fabbo! I love berets! Ours is just green. Green everything! It makes us look like gooseberries. And yes, we do have boys. Yeeurgh! You are so lucky, not having them. They are such a nuisance. Well, I think they are.

       What will happen when you change schools? Where will you go? I will probably go to Friars Stile, which is just down the road. Mum doesn’t really want me to, she says it is too big and too rough, but all my friends would be going there. Will you be able to stay with your friends? Do you have lots of them? Do you like to party?

       I laughed when you said about boys rushing round shouting! This is what they do ALL THE TIME. Susanna, one of my friends at school, is having her birthday party next week but she is not going to invite any. Boys, I mean! She is just inviting girls from our class. It will be such fun! I would go to parties nonstop if I could. I will tell you all about it in my next letter!