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am I going to have to walk by again?”
    Then he flicked his fingers and said, “For real.”
    Good Lord.
    I didn’t say anything.
    What is there to say?
    Besides “go away a LOT.”
    As I walked in my gate, Naomi came slinking along, waggling her bottom about. She displays no glaciosity or sophisticosity. Things are very different in the cat world. If I was a pussycat, entrancing a Luuurve God, I would merely have to lie on my back and display my girlie parts to him. Or maybe lick my bum-oley area, and not only he but every boy in the area would be following me around like fools.
    Angus and Naomi slunk off together under Dad’s useless clown car. Vati has got a fur driving-wheel cover now. There is absolutely no need for it. Mind you, there is no need for Dad, either.
    I went into my “home” as I laughingly call it. Vati was in his recreational area, a.k.a. lying on the couch getting fatter.
    He lurched into life when I tried to slope up the stairs.
    He said, “Where have you been until now?”
    I said, “Why? Have you been waiting to tell me how much you appreciate me as a daughter and that although you will never be seeing me again once I am twenty-one, you have liked me entertaining you through your twilight years?”
    “No, I bloody well didn’t want to say that and stop being so bloody cheeky. Where have you been?”
    “Erm, I was doing extra hockey.”
    “What, without your boots or kit, which is thrown on the floor of your bedroom or ‘rubbish pit’ as I call it?”
    I said, “Father, why have you been in my room? You know it is verboten . I may write to my MP and…”
    He is sooooo violent. His slipper just missed my ponytail.
    I wandered into the kitchen. Mum, Libby and Gordy were making some cakey thing. Which I will not be eating under any circumstances, including famine. Libby was covered in dough stuff. It was clinging to her raincoat and Wellingtons. She came running over to me, yelling, “It’s bad boy, it’s Gingeeeee! Kissy kiss, Ginger.”
    Oh gadzooks. She started climbing up my legs like a mad monkey in boots.
    Oh good, now I am covered in cake mix, hurrah. Things are really looking up.
    Mum said, “What did you get detention for this time?”
    Why is everyone sooooo suspicious? I am not surprised I get detention all the time because no one will give me a chance. I should show her my Great Mates Scale, but I won’t.
    I grabbed a sausagey thing from the cooker. It may have some nutritional value, you never know.
    I was just going up to my room when Mum said, “Dave popped round earlier. He’s a cool-looking boy, isn’t he? If I was a few years younger, I wouldn’t mind tangling tonsils with him.”
    Oh, how very disgusting.
    I took the sausage/spam thing out of my mouth. I felt besmirched.
    I said, “Mum, what were you wearing when he came round?”
    She looked at me.
    “This. Why?”
    I said, “What—that tiny skirt and even tinier top? I’m surprised he didn’t call the prostitute police.”
    She snapped then.
    “Don’t be so bloody cheeky.”
    Libby joined in then. She stood with her hands on her hips and yelled, “Yes, bloddy chinky.”
    9:00 p.m.
    I wonder what Dave was going to say?
    I wish I’d been in instead of being a great mate. I would have really liked to see him.
    And he’s not bad on the great mates list himself. He talked to the Luuurve God for me.
    Maybe I should phone him. And thank him.
    one minute later
    No, I can’t because of my new re-entrancing a Luuurve God plan.
    I am going to distract myself by making my little pouch.
    9:15 p.m.
    I am wearing my pouch. I am going to sleep in it tonight to make sure it is softy soft enough and so on. If I wake up in the night, I might feel for it (oo-er) and do a practice application.
    9:20 p.m.
    Libby is practicing her snogging skills on Mr. Potato Head. Surely this can’t be right at her age? Shouldn’t she mostly be pretending to be a fairy and playing with elves?
    This is disgusting. Libby is going