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thing. And a social life. And a year or two.
LATER STILL
    It’s about eleven at night and I know this means I’m going to be exhausted in the morning, but I don’t think I’ll sleep until I get it all out.
    I thought this was going to be one of the best days ever and it turned out to be awful. It was exactly like that Christmas when I wanted a puppy and got pyjamas and a lamp. Of course I waited endlessly for Nick, or anyone, to come looking for me, and they all just left me alone reading in the library. Soon my leg fell asleep from sitting in an appealing-looking position. Honestly! I could have slipped down a well or been knocked unconscious by a falling jar of goose grease in one of the pantries, but they wouldn’t have found me until I was inches from death and thenthey’d have had to sit quietly around the billiards room with Alice crying and all of them saying lovely things about me. OK Lemony, reel it in! Point being, they totally didn’t miss me or want me around.
    I was pretty miserable by the time the gong sounded in the hallway for dinner. Because there were so many of us Miss Higgins had pizzas delivered. I tried to get in a good mood again, but you know what it’s like when you’ve been sulking for ages, it’s hard to just snap out of it because it feels like someone owes you something first.
    Before long the sixteen of us were in the large basement kitchen with veggie pizzas, a sound system and a real party going. Professor Brown looked in and seemed surprised to find anyone in his house, but soon remembered and, nodding and smiling, went back upstairs to his more civilised existence. My dark mood lifted slightly, but not enough that I was talking or dancing much. Ro and Alice both came over and gave me a hug, I know they think it’s because of Nick and Donna, but really it’s just that I feel like I never really fit in. It’s fine when it’s just a handful of people, but as soon as there are loads I feel as if I am all wrong somehow, a lemon hanging from an apple tree.
    The eight who aren’t sleeping here left a couple of hours ago and we ‘Grangers’ as Ro says the rest of the film crew has started calling us, went up to bed. Before undressing I suddenly remembered that I’d left this in the window nook in the library and considering how I’d go into a spontaneous coma if anyone found and read the terrible truth that is my life right now, it needed rescuing.
    My plan was to fetch it and get straight back to bed, but while I was there in the library I heard a noise in the courtyard outside. The lights were off so I could pull back the velvet curtain and see a woman with blonde hair and a man’s coat wrapped almost double around her as she ran across the courtyard to where a small, thin man (much smaller than the Professor) was standing with a flashlight in his hand. They crept off together towards the grounds and for some reason I ran downstairs, out the ballroom door at the side and followed them into the night. I could see the light from the torch, but lost my nerve when I saw them disappear around the side of the large hedge. Going back inside and telling myself it was probably Bob and a member of the crew checking things out for tomorrow, I ran as quietly as I could back upstairs and am now in the girls’ bathroomwriting this and getting a grip. That’s the problem with an over-active imagination, you turn a bog-standard person with a flashlight into a murderous fiend with fiendishly murderous plans. Drama is so my thing. Say, goodnight, Lemony.

DAY FIFTEEN
    But then why were they running? And why so quiet and nervous looking? Ro was up and out before all of us, so I didn’t get to ask her opinion.
    The big news of the day so far: first thing this morning I got showered and dressed and bumped into NICK!!! on my way back to the bedroom. He was on his way to wake up the rest of the boys and explained that his dad had dropped him off early. Having flashed my best smile I was so cool with