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all, the girlfriend of a Sex God and Mark is the boyfriend of some toddler. I smiled kindly at him, and that is when he said to me, “You want to be careful not to move too quickly, Georgia. You’ll have someone’s eye out with those.”
    And he meant my nunga-nungas! And all his mates laughed.
    I stood there in a dignity-at-all-times sort of way until the bus came. I sat as far away from the BG and his rough mates as I could.
    12:45 p.m.
    It was a relief to get off the bus. As I got off I had to go past Mark and his mates. I made sure my nungas were not making a guest appearance by hunching my shoulders over.
    12:50 p.m.
    I’ve just seen a reflection of myself in a shop window looking like the hunchback of Notre Dame in Capri pants.
    1:00 p.m.
    In the cafe I met up with Rosie, Ellen, Mabs, Jools and Jas. Yessssssssss! The ace gang together again!! The girls are back in town, the girls are back in town!!! We had loads of really important things to talk about: makeup, snogging and, of course, berets. This term is not going so well on the beret front. Even the lunchpack beret has lost its charm.
    Rosie said, “I walked by Miss Stamp with two oranges and a banana stuck under my beret and she just raised her eyes. Something must be done.”
    I had a flash of total whatsit…wisdomosity. “ Mes huge amies , I have given this seconds of thought, and I know what the answer is.”
    They were all agog as two gogs. Jools said, “What?”
    I brought out my gloves and beret from my rucky. “Voilà.”
    They looked at me. Honestly, it was like talking to the terminally deaf.
    I said again, “ Voilà …glove animal!!”
    Rosie said, “What in the name of Slim’s gigantic knickers are you talking about?”
    Good grief. It is very tiring being the girlfriend of a Sex God and a genius at the same time. “Glove animal!!! A way of dressing sensibly and snugly using both beret and gloves. You pin a glove over each ear so that it hangs down like big dog ears and then you pop the beret over the top.” I clipped my gloves over my ears and popped the beret over the top (risking my hair’s bounceability factor).
    â€œ Voilà, glove animal!!!”
    Magnifique , I think everyone will agree.
    8:00 p.m.
    Home again To my lovely delicious supper of…er…
    Mutti and Vati and Loonsister out AGAIN. Still. In Love Heaven you are never really alone.
    Angus is tied up to the kitchen table leg. I gave him a hug to cheer him up, and he lashed out at me. Also I notice that he has a pair of Vati’s Y-fronts in his basket. Good grief. He has gone beyond sheer desperadoes. He is really sad without Naomi. I know how he feels. Every minute without the Sex God seems about sixty seconds long.
    11:30 p.m.
    Halloween tomorrow.
    It’s impossible to sleep in my bed with Libby’s pumpkin lantern in here. I suppose I should be pleased she hasn’t insisted on having her witch’s broom and…
    â€œLibby, no, not the broom and…”
    â€œMove over, bad boy.”
    sunday october 31st
halloween
    I immediately annoyed Dad this morning by pretending that he was wearing a scary Halloween costume. In fact, his leisure slacks and Marks and Spencer’s cardigan ARE very scary, but he didn’t get it.
    Libby is in toddler heaven because some of her little mates from kindy are coming across this afty for apple bobbing and lanterns and stuff.
    11:00 a.m.
    In a rare moment of sanity Vati has been over to see Mr. and Mrs. Across the Road and pleaded for Angus’s manhood. He was all pleased with himself when he came back.
    â€œI thought I’d take a look at that garden fence, Connie, see if we can keep Angus in a bit more. Then he might not have to have his biscuits nibbled.”
    Biscuits nibbled? What planet does he live on?
    He started rooting around in the toolbox. I wish he would get a job and then he wouldn’t be interested in DIY