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Authors: Roisin Meaney
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Oh, and guess what else? Bumble told me it’s all finished between Catherine and Terry McNamara. I’m glad Terry came to his senses at last. And guess whogot the part of Danny? Cute Chris Thompson, which I suppose means that his voice has finally broken – they could hardly have a Danny with a high voice, could they? The songs would sound all wrong.
And more news – Pizza Palace, which Dad and I use all the time, has a new delivery boy, and he really
does
look Italian, not like Santa – remember my old teacher?
This guy has dark brown eyes and long black hair that he wears in a really cool ponytail, and he calls me ‘doll’. He must be at least seventeen, because he rides one of the Pizza Palace motorbikes. I would give ANYTHING to go out with him.
Oh, and I almost forgot – I was at Dad’s office last week. We were going to have an early bird dinner at the Chinese, so I got the bus to his place from school and did my homework while I waited for him – and guess what was on his desk? The silver frame that Marjorie gave him for his birthday.
When I saw it, I was half afraid to look at what he’d put into it, in case it was a photo of her and him, but it turned out to be one of me and Bumble from that day on the beach when I burnt my nose, with Bumble making rabbit ears behind my head.
I thought it was nice of Dad to put that photo in, although it made me sad to think we’ll never have any new ones of Mam and us.
Ruth Wallace told me my new platforms made me walk like a duck. She’s such an idiot.
Two days to mid-term – hurrah! Not that I’m planning anything very exciting, but it’ll be great to have a week off. I can stay in bed till – well, till bedtime, if I like, ha ha.
Half eleven, Monday, around the start of November.
What a horrible day. It started out OK, but it got horrible very quickly.
Here’s what happened. I got to school as usual, and I was catching up with Chloe’s news, because we were just back after mid-term, and her family had gone to their holiday cottage in Kerry for the week.
Then, right in the middle of her telling me about this gorgeous guy in the next cottage, I got this awful pain, down low in my stomach. It was like something twisting around the wrong way, and it made me double up, it was so bad.
I never felt anything like it before. I thought it was my appendix bursting, and if I hadn’t been in such pain I would have been imagining Dad rushing to the hospital where I was undergoing emergency surgery, and maybe even Mam flying home to be at my bedside.
Anyway, Chloe left me curled up in the yard and ranto get a teacher because she was sure I was dying, and by the time she came back with Mrs O’Keefe who teaches maths and geography I was able to stand up a bit, but I still felt pretty gross, and my back was starting to hurt too.
Mrs O’Keefe said I looked very pale, and wondered if it was something I’d eaten, and asked me what I’d had for dinner the night before. I told her bacon and cabbage, because I was too embarrassed to say lamb korma with potato bhajis and naan bread.
Then the pain in my stomach got bad again, and Mrs O’Keefe sent Chloe in to the secretary’s office to get her to phone Dad at work and tell him to come and get me. I was doubled up again like an old woman. Everyone around me was staring. I would have been mortified, if I wasn’t too busy trying not to die.
When I could move a bit, Mrs O’Keefe helped me into the lobby and sat me on a couch to wait for Dad. I had to sit crouched over with my arms wrapped around my middle, and my face was cold and felt sweaty, and that awful twisting feeling kept coming and going in my stomach.
The secretary made me a cup of tea, which I tried really hard to drink so I wouldn’t hurt her feelings, but it was weak and milky and not half sweet enough, and the most I could manage was two or three sips.
You’ll get an idea of how rotten I felt, when I tell you that the thought of missing double
Oh, and guess what else? Bumble told me it’s all finished between Catherine and Terry McNamara. I’m glad Terry came to his senses at last. And guess whogot the part of Danny? Cute Chris Thompson, which I suppose means that his voice has finally broken – they could hardly have a Danny with a high voice, could they? The songs would sound all wrong.
And more news – Pizza Palace, which Dad and I use all the time, has a new delivery boy, and he really
does
look Italian, not like Santa – remember my old teacher?
This guy has dark brown eyes and long black hair that he wears in a really cool ponytail, and he calls me ‘doll’. He must be at least seventeen, because he rides one of the Pizza Palace motorbikes. I would give ANYTHING to go out with him.
Oh, and I almost forgot – I was at Dad’s office last week. We were going to have an early bird dinner at the Chinese, so I got the bus to his place from school and did my homework while I waited for him – and guess what was on his desk? The silver frame that Marjorie gave him for his birthday.
When I saw it, I was half afraid to look at what he’d put into it, in case it was a photo of her and him, but it turned out to be one of me and Bumble from that day on the beach when I burnt my nose, with Bumble making rabbit ears behind my head.
I thought it was nice of Dad to put that photo in, although it made me sad to think we’ll never have any new ones of Mam and us.
Ruth Wallace told me my new platforms made me walk like a duck. She’s such an idiot.
Two days to mid-term – hurrah! Not that I’m planning anything very exciting, but it’ll be great to have a week off. I can stay in bed till – well, till bedtime, if I like, ha ha.
Half eleven, Monday, around the start of November.
What a horrible day. It started out OK, but it got horrible very quickly.
Here’s what happened. I got to school as usual, and I was catching up with Chloe’s news, because we were just back after mid-term, and her family had gone to their holiday cottage in Kerry for the week.
Then, right in the middle of her telling me about this gorgeous guy in the next cottage, I got this awful pain, down low in my stomach. It was like something twisting around the wrong way, and it made me double up, it was so bad.
I never felt anything like it before. I thought it was my appendix bursting, and if I hadn’t been in such pain I would have been imagining Dad rushing to the hospital where I was undergoing emergency surgery, and maybe even Mam flying home to be at my bedside.
Anyway, Chloe left me curled up in the yard and ranto get a teacher because she was sure I was dying, and by the time she came back with Mrs O’Keefe who teaches maths and geography I was able to stand up a bit, but I still felt pretty gross, and my back was starting to hurt too.
Mrs O’Keefe said I looked very pale, and wondered if it was something I’d eaten, and asked me what I’d had for dinner the night before. I told her bacon and cabbage, because I was too embarrassed to say lamb korma with potato bhajis and naan bread.
Then the pain in my stomach got bad again, and Mrs O’Keefe sent Chloe in to the secretary’s office to get her to phone Dad at work and tell him to come and get me. I was doubled up again like an old woman. Everyone around me was staring. I would have been mortified, if I wasn’t too busy trying not to die.
When I could move a bit, Mrs O’Keefe helped me into the lobby and sat me on a couch to wait for Dad. I had to sit crouched over with my arms wrapped around my middle, and my face was cold and felt sweaty, and that awful twisting feeling kept coming and going in my stomach.
The secretary made me a cup of tea, which I tried really hard to drink so I wouldn’t hurt her feelings, but it was weak and milky and not half sweet enough, and the most I could manage was two or three sips.
You’ll get an idea of how rotten I felt, when I tell you that the thought of missing double
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