LITMIR.BIZ

      I am to go and see her tomorrow, first thing after assembly.

      I know what that means. It means she’s going to bawl me out and threaten to tell Mum. I don’t care! It was worth it. I’m glad I went. I don’t see what right they have to keep making all these rules and regulations anyway. Nobody ever asks us what we want. Grown-ups do just whatever they like. Get divorced. Marry creeps. Have babies. It isn’t fair!

      Thursday

      Went to see Mrs James. Actually she was quite nice. She said that “this sort of behaviour” couldn’t be allowed to go on but that she didn’t want to have to write to Mum unless I absolutely forced her, and then she said, “Did you ever think about my suggestion for keeping a diary?” and I said yes, I was doing it, and she asked me if it was helping, but without prying into the reasons why I might need helping, which is what lots of teachers would have done. So to please her I said I thought perhaps it was, just a little bit, and she told me to keep on with it because it could only be a good thing.

      I hope she’s right. I do quite like putting things down in writing. I can say lots of stuff that I couldn’t say to anyone else, not even the Melon – who is back being friends with me again, incidentally. It seems that we can’t survive without each other. Avril and Uchenna are all right, but me and Skin have been together since Juniors.

      I stayed in school at lunch-time and dutifully ate yuck in the canteen. It made me feel sick. I feel sick most of the time now, what with eating yuck and Mum and Slimey keeping on and on about this blessed baby. Even the names they have come up with are yuck. If it’s a boy it’s going to be Bernard … Bernard Butter. If it’s a girl it’s going to be Belinda. Mum says she likes what she calls the allitration.

      Alliteration. (Just looked it up in the dictionary.) This means having two letters the same. B and B. Like bed and breakfast. Or bread and butter.

      I have just thought of a joke. If it’s a girl they could call it Bredan, which is Brenda mixed up. Ha ha! That is a Slimey joke. I shall suggest it to them.

      Friday

      Dog’s vomit and earwax, with crusty bits on top. I didn’t ask anyone what it was supposed to be. I think it’s better not to know. I just held my breath and swallowed. I am seriously thinking of taking up Mum’s offer of vegetarian sandwiches. I would if it weren’t for him. Old Slimey. I hate the thought of him crowing because he’s won me over. If I decide to do it, it will be out of sheer desperation and a desire not to be poisoned. Nothing whatsoever to do with him.

      When I got in at tea-time he was there, which I didn’t expect him to be as he’d gone off to bore some more poor little kids, showing them how he draws elves. So I told them my idea for calling the baby Bredan and Mum (stupid) said, “Oh, you mean like Bredon Hill? But that’s pronounced Breedon.” Slime got it. He got it straightaway. He said, “Bredan Butter! Brilliant!” and promptly started to sketch a loaf of bread on the kitchen table with his felt-tip pen that he always keeps handy in case sudden inspiration comes to him. Mum said, “Oh! Yes. I see. Then we’d have a Roll and Butter and a Bread and Butter. Clever!”

      Slimey said, “Yes, and if we had another we could call it Toastan.” I have been trying without success to think of other things that go with butter. All I can think of is T.K. Cann-Butter and Chris P. Bredan Butter. But they are not very good.

      I suppose you could have Saul T. Butter. That is not bad.

      A woman over the road who has just moved in has asked Mum if I’d like to go and have tea tomorrow with her daughter because her daughter is the same age as me and doesn’t yet know anyone. Mum has gone and said that I will! It is terrible the way grown-ups just dispose of one’s life for one. I don’t particularly want to go and have tea with this person’s daughter. She is called Sereena, which I know is not her fault, and her surname is Swaddle, which again I know she cannot be blamed for. Sereena Swaddle. That is alliteration. Mum says it is “unfortunate”, but why she should think it’s any more unfortunate than Belinda or Bernard Butter is beyond me.

      Skinny rang later to know if I wanted to go swimming with her tomorrow afternoon and I had to say that I was having tea with this Sereena person. Skinny said “Who?” and I said, “Sereena Swaddle,” and she said, “You’re joking!” I said that I only wished I was. I went back to Mum and said, “Do I have to do this thing?” and she said, “Oh, Cherry, just once! It won’t hurt you. She’s a sweet little thing, I know you’ll like her.”

      When Mum said, “sweet little thing” old Slime caught my eye and pulled a face. I’d gone and pulled one back before I could stop myself. I don’t think I ought to do that. It’s like him and me being ganged up together against Mum. Mum must have sensed it because she said, “You can laugh! It’s nice to know there still are some sweet little things … they don’t all clump around in bovver boots shouting four-letter words and watching ghastly horror movies.”

      I have just thought of something else that could go with butter. P. Nutt-Butter. That is a good one!

      Saturday

      Ha! So much for Mum not letting me go to Gemma’s sleep-over in case she corrupted me. I went to have tea with the Sereena person this afternoon. The sweet little thing who doesn’t swear or watch horror movies. I can see why Mum thought she was a sweet little thing. It is because she has a sweet little face. (Yuck!) She also has long blonde hair and rose-pink cheeks and eyes the size of satellite dishes and blue as whatever’s blue. The sky. Forget-me-nots. Saffires. Rather revolting, really. At least, I think so. But it’s what grown-ups like.

      So anyway, we had tea and her mum was there and she’s sort of … frothy. All fizzing and bubbling like Andrew’s Fruit Salts that Dad used to take for his acid indigestion. She kept giggling and saying things like, “Oh, Reena.” (That’s what she calls her. Double yuck.) “Oh, Reena, isn’t this fun! You’ve found a friend already!” But I don’t know whether I want to be her friend. I like to choose my own friends, and besides, I’ve got Skinny.