couldn’t go on, which was sooo not true. She was dying for Kevin to say something sympathetic so she could pour her heart out.
Poor Kevin looked like a fox caught in a trap. ‘Okay. Well, sounds cool but Star will murder me if I’m late.’ He pointed at me as he backed off. ‘And Freddie is looking for you too, Calypso. Nice to meet you, Mrs Kelly, I mean Sarah,’ he called out as he legged it down the lane.
With that, he was gone and so was my hope of finding a way of pretending to Freds that I hadn’t actually made it into Windsor that day.
I was definitely going to have some material for my essay now. My life was looking increasingly tragic by the minute. And then it got really bad. ‘Calypso!’ Freddie called from the other end of the lane. He looked gorgeous; his dark hair that did funny sticky-out things without gel, still upright despite the increasing rain. I couldn’t see his dazzling cornflower blue eyes yet, but I was drawn to him just like the moon is drawn to the earth, or is it the sun, or the other way around? The point it is, I longed to run towards him.
‘Is that … is that … is that?’ Sarah repeated, over and over again in a swoon.
My distressingly fit boyfriend began moving towards us. With each step he took, my mind threw up a thousand reasons why I should resist the overwhelming desperation within me to run for the hills.
My dread of being embarrassed by Sarah won. It tookme a split second to grab my mad madre’s hand. ‘Quick,’ I hissed. We have to leg it. It’s a game we play!’ I explained.
‘Oh, super,’ Sarah squealed as we ran like a pair of bag snatchers down Bond Street. She was laughing and shrieking, probably exhilarated by how teenage and puerile it all was. Or perhaps this event would feature on an episode of Gladesdale. Or maybe it was just her medication. Either way, we arrived at her car in a state of soggy, giggly dishevelment.
My life was ruined. I had just run from my boyfriend, and however fit and wonderful Freds was, unlike Sarah, he was not going to see the fun in what I’d just done.
But I didn’t have a chance to dwell on how gutted I was inside. I had to distract Sarah so she wouldn’t want me to explain why I’d just dragged her away from Freds. It’s times like this that blurting actually comes in quite handy. There’s a competition,’ I blagged. I know it was wicked to take advantage of my mother’s madness, but I couldn’t exactly tell her the truth, could I?
As it was, I didn’t need to blag. Sarah was babbling away excitedly about how hilarious and outrageous we were, running off like that on Prince Frederick, as she insisted on calling him. ‘Bob would die!’ she said and tooted the horn with happiness.
‘Definitely,’ I lied. ‘Now about this essay,’ I continued.
‘Wasn’t it wonderful – the look on his face? I can’t wait to tell Bunny. She’s always urging me to be more playful.’
No doubt she would soon start wondering about whenshe would meet Freds, so I was determined to distract her now with talk of the essay competition.
‘Yes, so there’s this essay-writing competition,’ I insisted. ‘An autobiographical sort of thing. You know, drawing on one’s own life experience, that sort of thing.’
‘Oh, Bunny is big on that. She has made me keep a Journal of Pain since I first started seeing her. I write down all the agonies I endure each day. That was how Bunny made me see the pattern of neglect I was suffering at the hands of your father. I’m soooo glad that you are finally able to see the value of committing your pain to paper, darling.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed uncertainly. ‘It’s not my usual field, but I think I’m going to have a shot at it. There’s really big prize money if you win, and they’re publishing the best five in the Telegraph, so there will be a lot of recognition.’
‘Oh darling, a prize? Imagine if you win? Oh, this is exciting,’ she exclaimed, finally tuning in.
‘Yaah, well, I don’t
Poor Kevin looked like a fox caught in a trap. ‘Okay. Well, sounds cool but Star will murder me if I’m late.’ He pointed at me as he backed off. ‘And Freddie is looking for you too, Calypso. Nice to meet you, Mrs Kelly, I mean Sarah,’ he called out as he legged it down the lane.
With that, he was gone and so was my hope of finding a way of pretending to Freds that I hadn’t actually made it into Windsor that day.
I was definitely going to have some material for my essay now. My life was looking increasingly tragic by the minute. And then it got really bad. ‘Calypso!’ Freddie called from the other end of the lane. He looked gorgeous; his dark hair that did funny sticky-out things without gel, still upright despite the increasing rain. I couldn’t see his dazzling cornflower blue eyes yet, but I was drawn to him just like the moon is drawn to the earth, or is it the sun, or the other way around? The point it is, I longed to run towards him.
‘Is that … is that … is that?’ Sarah repeated, over and over again in a swoon.
My distressingly fit boyfriend began moving towards us. With each step he took, my mind threw up a thousand reasons why I should resist the overwhelming desperation within me to run for the hills.
My dread of being embarrassed by Sarah won. It tookme a split second to grab my mad madre’s hand. ‘Quick,’ I hissed. We have to leg it. It’s a game we play!’ I explained.
‘Oh, super,’ Sarah squealed as we ran like a pair of bag snatchers down Bond Street. She was laughing and shrieking, probably exhilarated by how teenage and puerile it all was. Or perhaps this event would feature on an episode of Gladesdale. Or maybe it was just her medication. Either way, we arrived at her car in a state of soggy, giggly dishevelment.
My life was ruined. I had just run from my boyfriend, and however fit and wonderful Freds was, unlike Sarah, he was not going to see the fun in what I’d just done.
But I didn’t have a chance to dwell on how gutted I was inside. I had to distract Sarah so she wouldn’t want me to explain why I’d just dragged her away from Freds. It’s times like this that blurting actually comes in quite handy. There’s a competition,’ I blagged. I know it was wicked to take advantage of my mother’s madness, but I couldn’t exactly tell her the truth, could I?
As it was, I didn’t need to blag. Sarah was babbling away excitedly about how hilarious and outrageous we were, running off like that on Prince Frederick, as she insisted on calling him. ‘Bob would die!’ she said and tooted the horn with happiness.
‘Definitely,’ I lied. ‘Now about this essay,’ I continued.
‘Wasn’t it wonderful – the look on his face? I can’t wait to tell Bunny. She’s always urging me to be more playful.’
No doubt she would soon start wondering about whenshe would meet Freds, so I was determined to distract her now with talk of the essay competition.
‘Yes, so there’s this essay-writing competition,’ I insisted. ‘An autobiographical sort of thing. You know, drawing on one’s own life experience, that sort of thing.’
‘Oh, Bunny is big on that. She has made me keep a Journal of Pain since I first started seeing her. I write down all the agonies I endure each day. That was how Bunny made me see the pattern of neglect I was suffering at the hands of your father. I’m soooo glad that you are finally able to see the value of committing your pain to paper, darling.’
‘Yes,’ I agreed uncertainly. ‘It’s not my usual field, but I think I’m going to have a shot at it. There’s really big prize money if you win, and they’re publishing the best five in the Telegraph, so there will be a lot of recognition.’
‘Oh darling, a prize? Imagine if you win? Oh, this is exciting,’ she exclaimed, finally tuning in.
‘Yaah, well, I don’t
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