thought, I wonder what Marek would think of my film if I showed it to him?
I thought of his chalk ponies that looked like they were galloping to life underneath the motorway.
And I thought, I don’t want to make films that are as good as the real thing.
I want to make films that are better.
Why do you draw in secret?
And why does he target me?
Tuesday 26 October
Jas drowned the hair straighteners today. We all had to witness it. She made us process from the paddock to the stream, with her leading the way on Mopsy andSkye’s dog Elsie trotting beside her and her tiara on her head instead of a riding hat, like a princess setting out to slay a dragon, except she wasn’t carrying a sword but the hair straighteners on a ceremonial blue sofa cushion in front of her on the saddle.
She rode Mopsy right to the middle of the bridge over Grandma’s stream, and then she held up a hand to tell us all to stop on the banks, and stood up in the stirrups with the cushion held out before her and shouted, ‘I banish thee!’
Grandma asked, please could someone explain what was going on?
‘We are here to banish Jas’s demons,’ Pixie explained. She had changed out of her usual boiler suit for the occasion, and was wearing a sort of black witch’s cloak she had found in a charity shop in Plumpton, with a garland of ivy in her hair. Grandma said, please could someone else explain, because she failed to understand what demons had to do to with hair curlers.
‘They’re not curlers, they’re straighteners,’ I told her. ‘And they have been making Jas pretend she is something she’s not.’
Gloria remarked you could hardly blame the straighteners. Twig agreed but said we couldn’t very well drown Megan, Courtney, Chandra and Fran.
‘Apart from it being illegal,’ Twig said, ‘they are not actually here.’
‘Karma,’ Pixie murmured, but no-one answered because this was the moment when Jas brandished the straighteners over her head and hurled them over the bridge and into the water.
‘It’s not very ecological,’ Zoran said.
‘She just wants to blow the electrics,’ Twig said.
Then Jas recited a poem all about how bad straighteners are for hair, Twig fished them out of the stream, Isambard inspected them and said they were irreparable and they all went in for tea.
I didn’t go with them. Instead I walked out on to the moor, up and up until I reached the top of the hill. It was freezing and a fog was coming in. I shouldn’t have stayed – people lose their way and die on the moor every year in weather like that. But you feel so free, up there. I spread my arms and the wind rushed up and whipped my face, and my lungs filled with the damp, cold fog, and I ran in swooping circles pretending to be an aeroplane until I got dizzy, and crashed and lay on my back on the wet green grass alone in my whited-out world, laughing like a crazy person.
But then, when I’d finished laughing, I wanted to cry like I always do when I come here, because this was Iris’s favourite place in the world, and it was sobeautiful, and even if I could capture it on camera or turn it into a picture as perfect as Marek’s, she would never see it.
Wednesday 27 October
I woke up before dawn to the sound of an engine outside my window, and when I opened my curtains there was Flora spilling out of a very old-looking car that was mainly blue but with one red door, dressed in her bunny rabbit onesie, snow boots, a duffle coat and a red tartan blanket. She saw me watching and waved. Other people started to climb out of the car after her.
‘What?’ I actually rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
‘Open the door!’ she called up to me. ‘We’re dying of cold and I’m bursting for a pee!’
I tiptoed out of my room towards the stairs, but everyone was already awake.
‘Is something wrong?’ Zoran staggered on to the landing, rubbing his eyes.
‘What on earth is that racket?’ Grandma appeared in her dressing
I thought of his chalk ponies that looked like they were galloping to life underneath the motorway.
And I thought, I don’t want to make films that are as good as the real thing.
I want to make films that are better.
Why do you draw in secret?
And why does he target me?
Tuesday 26 October
Jas drowned the hair straighteners today. We all had to witness it. She made us process from the paddock to the stream, with her leading the way on Mopsy andSkye’s dog Elsie trotting beside her and her tiara on her head instead of a riding hat, like a princess setting out to slay a dragon, except she wasn’t carrying a sword but the hair straighteners on a ceremonial blue sofa cushion in front of her on the saddle.
She rode Mopsy right to the middle of the bridge over Grandma’s stream, and then she held up a hand to tell us all to stop on the banks, and stood up in the stirrups with the cushion held out before her and shouted, ‘I banish thee!’
Grandma asked, please could someone explain what was going on?
‘We are here to banish Jas’s demons,’ Pixie explained. She had changed out of her usual boiler suit for the occasion, and was wearing a sort of black witch’s cloak she had found in a charity shop in Plumpton, with a garland of ivy in her hair. Grandma said, please could someone else explain, because she failed to understand what demons had to do to with hair curlers.
‘They’re not curlers, they’re straighteners,’ I told her. ‘And they have been making Jas pretend she is something she’s not.’
Gloria remarked you could hardly blame the straighteners. Twig agreed but said we couldn’t very well drown Megan, Courtney, Chandra and Fran.
‘Apart from it being illegal,’ Twig said, ‘they are not actually here.’
‘Karma,’ Pixie murmured, but no-one answered because this was the moment when Jas brandished the straighteners over her head and hurled them over the bridge and into the water.
‘It’s not very ecological,’ Zoran said.
‘She just wants to blow the electrics,’ Twig said.
Then Jas recited a poem all about how bad straighteners are for hair, Twig fished them out of the stream, Isambard inspected them and said they were irreparable and they all went in for tea.
I didn’t go with them. Instead I walked out on to the moor, up and up until I reached the top of the hill. It was freezing and a fog was coming in. I shouldn’t have stayed – people lose their way and die on the moor every year in weather like that. But you feel so free, up there. I spread my arms and the wind rushed up and whipped my face, and my lungs filled with the damp, cold fog, and I ran in swooping circles pretending to be an aeroplane until I got dizzy, and crashed and lay on my back on the wet green grass alone in my whited-out world, laughing like a crazy person.
But then, when I’d finished laughing, I wanted to cry like I always do when I come here, because this was Iris’s favourite place in the world, and it was sobeautiful, and even if I could capture it on camera or turn it into a picture as perfect as Marek’s, she would never see it.
Wednesday 27 October
I woke up before dawn to the sound of an engine outside my window, and when I opened my curtains there was Flora spilling out of a very old-looking car that was mainly blue but with one red door, dressed in her bunny rabbit onesie, snow boots, a duffle coat and a red tartan blanket. She saw me watching and waved. Other people started to climb out of the car after her.
‘What?’ I actually rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
‘Open the door!’ she called up to me. ‘We’re dying of cold and I’m bursting for a pee!’
I tiptoed out of my room towards the stairs, but everyone was already awake.
‘Is something wrong?’ Zoran staggered on to the landing, rubbing his eyes.
‘What on earth is that racket?’ Grandma appeared in her dressing
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