Skinny Melon and Me Page 9

  We were the only people who didn’t turn up in a car. At least, I should think we were. Amanda Miles said to me the other day, “Can’t your dad afford a car?” I don’t know how she knew he hadn’t got one, but anyway as I pointed out he’s not my dad. And as I also pointed out, he could probably afford half a dozen cars if he wanted them. The number of elves he draws, he ought to be able to. I said, “It’s a matter of principle. He happens to care about this earth and the creatures that live on it.” She said, “What are you talking about?” I said, “Pollution. Cars ought to be done away with,” and she said, “Oh, that’s just nutty!”

  I used to think it was but now I’m not so sure. Slimey pointed out the other day that all the fir trees up and down our road have gone brown and died. All of them. Mum says maybe it’s a tree disease, but Slimey and I think it’s acid rain.

  Parents’ Evening was quite embarrassing, actually. I knew it would be. I had to stand there while Mum and Slimey slunk about talking to all the teachers and I could just feel that people like Amanda Miles were looking at Slimey and sniggering. And then old Slimey keeps making these pathetic jokes all the time and some of the teachers are polite and pretend to think it’s funny while some of them – Miss Milsom, for instance, she’s really sour – just pinch their lips together and make their nostrils go all thin and you can tell they’re thinking, “What an idiot!”

  As a matter of fact I felt a bit sorry for him. I mean, he’s completely ludicrous-looking, with his silly scraggly beard and this huge Adam’s apple that keeps bobbing up and down every time he swallows and these enormous hands and feet that go clump, clump, clump, everywhere. He’s really clumsy. But he does try ever so hard to be liked and I guess it’s not his fault he keeps doing it all wrong. He just doesn’t know any better. I didn’t like the thought of Amanda sniggering at him. I felt like telling her that at least old Slimey doesn’t go round eating animals or poisoning the planet with noxious fumes like I bet her dad does. Drawing elves might strike some people as a pretty drippy thing to do but no one can deny that it’s harmless. And I suppose if you were only four years old it might bring pleasure to your little infantile life. I expect if I am to be truthful I probably quite liked elves when I was four years old.

  Actually as a matter of fact I am not being fair to Slimey. He doesn’t only draw elves. He doesn’t really draw elves at all. Just in this one particular book that he did for tinies. Mostly what he draws are animals and people. Funny animals and people. Even his elves were funny elves.

  I wish I could draw like he can!

  Saturday

  Sereena wanted to know whether I would go and have tea with her again, but I said I couldn’t as I was going swimming with Skinny Melon. Mum got a bit cross when she heard. She said, “Why couldn’t Sereena go with you?” It’s hard to explain that Skinny and I don’t want anyone with us. We are a pair. We like being just us. Mum ought to understand since she seems to like being on her own with Slimey.

  I told this to Skinny and she said that Mum probably likes being with Slimey because he makes her laugh. She said, “He’s really funny, he ought to be on telly.”

  Slimey? Maybe there is more to him that I thought!

  Dad rang up tonight. He said he was very sorry he hadn’t been able to get to Parents’ Evening. “But you know how it is … meetings that go on for ever.” I said that it was all right. I added that he hadn’t really missed much. He said. “No, but I do feel bad about it.”

  I was going to suggest that maybe he could come to the school play instead, and hear me sing, but before I could do so he was called away by Rosemary. I could hear her voice yelling at him up the hall. “Gregg, are you coming?” Dad said, “Oops, got to go! I’ll ring you back tomorrow.”

  I have decided that I hate Rosemary.

  Sunday

  Wonders will never cease! Slimey has shaved off his beard!!! Unfortunately he looks even more peculiar without it. He has these rabbit teeth and not very much chin.

  Oh, what does Mum see in him?

  I know what she sees in him. It is what Skinny says; she thinks he is funny. And also he doesn’t keep shouting or losing his temper. I have never heard him shout. He has quite a quiet sort of voice altogether, really. And he does these silly nice things like the other day for instance when we were walking up the road and he saw this worm in the middle of the pavement. Instantly he stopped and broke a bit of twig off someone’s hedge so that he could pick it up and put it in a garden. He said it would dry out if it were left where it was.

  There aren’t many people that would care about a mere worm. I wouldn’t have done before. Dad used to go into the back garden and tread on snails. Not purposely, but simply because they happened to be there and got in his way. Slimey never does that. He steps over them. Whenever you go into the garden early in the morning he says, “Watch out for snails!” It used to madden me but I’ve kind of got used to it. I suppose you can get used to most things.

  The only thing I will never get used to is Mum breaking her promise about my dog. How could she do that to me?

  141 Arethusa Road

  London W5

  20 November

  My dear Carol,

  So very many thanks for the armadillo droppings (a great success with my crude daughter!) and for the mug-shot of your DHT (Divinely Handsome Texan!) What is he doing working for a bank??? Why isn’t he in the movies? On second thoughts, keep him in the bank! He’s safer there.

  I must tell you that Roly has shaved off his beard. I feel a bit guilty about it. He grew that beard when he was a boy of twenty to cover up the fact that he doesn’t have much chin. He doesn’t, poor love! And I honestly think he looks far better with a beard. But Cherry hated it – not that she ever actually said so, but she has ways of making her feelings obvious – and as you know he will go to almost any lengths in his efforts to please her.

  This all came about, this beard thing, because on Friday it was Parents’ Night at Cherry’s school and Roly was keen to come along and “be a proper parent” as he put it, but he was scared that Cherry might not want him to. He asked her if she minded and for a wonder she was quite polite and said no, which made Roly really happy, but later that evening, after she was in bed, he suddenly said, “She was ashamed of me, wasn’t she?” Of course I indignantly said no – what right has that little miss to be ashamed of a man like Roly? – but nothing would shift his conviction.

  He jumped up and went over to the mirror and said, “Look at me! I’m just a mess! If I want her to be proud of having me for a father, I’m going to have to get my act together.”

  So now he has shaved off his beard and oh, Carol, it is such a mistake! With the beard he looked what he was – an artist. Now he looks like a – a chinless wonder! Only I haven’t the heart to tell him. He is absolutely convinced that Cherry will prefer him like this. I don’t think I could bear it if she made some hurtful comment. It is truly frightening, the power that children have.

  Remember! Stick to your guns with the DHT … you are a career woman!

  All my love,

  Chapter 10

  Monday

  Amanda Miles said to me today, “Was that your stepfather that was with you on Friday?” I couldn’t think who she was talking about for a moment as I don’t think of Slimey as being my stepfather but I suppose he is. So I said, “Yes. Why?” And she gave this silly smirk and said, “Oh, I just wondered.” I felt like hitting her.

  Tuesday

  Nothing very much happened today.

  Wednesday

  Nor today.

  Thursday

  Nothing seems to be happening at all in my life right now.

  Friday

  Dad never rang me last Sunday, like he promised. Maybe he will this Sunday. If that woman lets him.

  Skinny came back with me after school and we watched a video but she couldn’t stay the night as she has to go and visit her gran over the weekend. She said, “Dire Melvyn’s going to drive us there in his posh ca
r.” I said, “What’s he got? A Merc?” Skinny didn’t know. “Something big and shiny,” is all she knows. She’s useless at things like that.

  “I think we ought to go by train,” she said. “Otherwise we’re polluting the atmosphere.”

  She picked that up from Slimey. She’d never have thought of it for herself.

  Saturday

  I don’t know how much longer I can go on writing this diary. It is very difficult when one’s life is completely empty. I know it is good practice if one day I want to be a writer but if books are still around when I grow up I think I would rather draw the pictures that go inside them than have to write the words. I think actually I am quite good at drawing. This, for instance, is Slimey before and after:

  Sunday

  It rained all day. Dad still didn’t ring.

  141 Arethusa Road

  London W5

  27 November

  Dear Carol,

  I just got yours in which you remind me that when we were young and read I Capture the Castle we held exactly the same view as Cherry regarding men with beards.

  You say, “I couldn’t bear the thought of Cassandra being stuck with Simon. To an eleven year old he seemed practically senile!” Yes, you’re quite right. One forgets, perhaps, what it is like to be eleven years old.

  And I have been thinking, too, about what I wrote last week. That bit where I said what power children wield. They don’t, of course, compared with adults. We’re the ones who decide their lives for them – what they’re going to be called, where they’re going to school, where they’re going to live – who they’re going to live with. It wasn’t Cherry’s decision that Gregg and I should split up. The only power she’s exercising is the power to hit back. I just wish she wouldn’t pick on Roly! But children instinctively go for one’s weakest spot. She knows very well that by hurting Roly she hurts me.

  I’m feeling a bit down at the moment. Beginning to doubt if things will ever come right. Cherry is obviously never going to forgive me for splitting with Gregg and that means she is never going to accept Roly. What a mess!

  But life at least is beginning to work for you. You’ve been through the dark days and come through them. And I don’t ever remember you moaning and groaning the way I do!

  All love from your wimpish

  Chapter 11

  Monday

  Asked the Melon if she’d found out what car Dire Melvyn drives and she said she’d forgotten to look. She said she’s not interested in his car. She’s not interested in him. She wishes her mum had never met him. She is sick and tired of him always being there.

  I said I knew how she felt because it was exactly what I’d felt when Mum started going out with Slimey Roland. I thought this was the sort of thing she would like to hear, but all she did was snap at me. She said, “That was totally different!”

  How? That is what I should like to know. The Melon is really becoming very grumpy these days.

  No card from Slimey for ages. Perhaps he’s got the message at last?

  Tuesday

  I hope Mum hasn’t gone and told old Slime that I chuck his cards in the waste-paper basket. It’s just the mean sort of thing she’d do. I think I’ll go and take them out and put them somewhere she can’t see them.

  I’ve taken them out. I’ve put them in a box under the bed. Now I suppose she’ll think that I’ve stopped being on strike and am going to start tidying the rest of the room.

  If that’s what she thinks then she is wrong. I have only done it not to hurt Slime’s feelings.

  Wednesday

  Dad rang. He said he’s been very “tied up” at the office. He also said that he hasn’t forgotten his promise to buy me a personal computer for Christmas. I expect when I’ve got used to it I will find it quite interesting. At the moment I’m more into drawing and painting. A big parcel of books arrived for Slimey today. They were all the same book, from his publishers. It is one of his Freddy the Frog ones. Freddy the Frog looks like this:

  Well, something like that. I can’t quite draw it as well as Slimey does, but he’s had lots more practice than me. I bet I could if I kept at it.

  I meant to ask Dad about coming to see me in the school play but I forgot. I don’t expect it matters. I don’t expect he’d have been able to come. He’d probably have a meeting or be going out to an important dinner party. I do see that it is difficult for him, being so busy and living so far away. Also I don’t expect that woman would have let him.

  Thursday

  Twenty-four days to go until Christmas! I wonder what Mum will buy me?

  Friday

  I asked Slimey Roland at tea-time whether he was a crusty roll and butter or a soft roll and butter. I thought that was quite a good joke. So did Roly. I mean Slimey. He laughed. Mum didn’t. I don’t think Mum has much sense of humour. She never appreciates my jokes. She said, “He’s a great big softie, as you well know, and you do anything to take advantage!”

  She’s always accusing me of these things. I don’t know what she means.

  I’ve been drawing frogs all day long and can now do them almost as well as Slimey.

  Saturday

  He pushed another card under my door last night. He is not so bad really, I suppose. It’s just that he is not my dad!

  Sunday

  Today I took out all Slimey’s cards and read them, which I never really bothered to do before. Once you get used to it, it is quite easy. At first you have to puzzle a bit but then you learn the symbols, like he always draws a for words like he or we. And a for not. I’m going to write out what they say and practise doing it myself. It would be fun to write picture messages in Christmas cards!

  I’m sorry that dogs and cats make me sneeze. What about a tortoise?

  I’m sorry, I’m sorry! What about a bird? Or a fish? I will dig a pond if you like.

  We can have goldfish, snails, bullrushes and water lilies. It will be fun!

  Please don’t eat us!

  Well done! You will make an excellent angel!

  Here are four examples of egg jokes. Exercising, expelled, exit, exacting.

  If Sunday is nice maybe we’ll go for a picnic.

  That was an ace picnic! Shall we do it again some day? Please look after Mum when I’m away.

  It’s ace to be back! I miss you and Mum when I’m not here. PS Here is something for you. I hope you like her!

  Did you like Snow White? I did! Can you say who all these are?

  I hope you are happy about the baby? I’m very happy! I think a baby will be fun!

  Have you read a book called “I Capture the Castle”? It’s good. Take it with you to read on holiday.

  Welcome home! Good to have you back. We miss you when you are not here.

  It’s good to have a pond. Foxes, badgers and hedgehogs can drink there and it might bring frogs and toads.

  I’m happy that you like the book but sad you didn’t like poor Simon and his beard. Maybe he looked OK when he shaved it off?

  I hope you like me better now that I have no beard!

  I’m crusty when I’m cross and soft when I’m not cross. Today I’m not cross. Today I’m happy! It will soon be Christmas!

  I have just realised what the little symbols are down the sides.

  She loves me,

  she loves me not …

  And he always does these

  little pictures of a flower.

  There aren’t many petals left now. I wonder what he’ll do when he gets to the end???

  I’m not sure yet that I love him, but he’s not as bad as I used to think.

  Monday

  Tuesday

  Today we had cowpats and cardboard slices for dinner. Well, that is what I had. Skinny Melon had what looked like armadillo droppings in greasy washing-up water. We both suffered stomach pains, dizziness and a feeling of total norseea. Norsea?

  I have not been recording school meals just lately. This is not because they have been good, but simply because I have had too many
other things to think about. Like, for instance, the end of term play! Old Roland the Rat and Mum are both going to come, though Mum says she is thinking of bringing ear plugs in case my loud untuneful voice frightens the baby, which she says it well could, even though it is still in the woom. I told her it will give it a feeling for music but Mum only laughed. Mum is very rude about my singing. All I can say is, she is in for a Big Surprise!

  One of the seniors who is in the play, called Davina Walters, stayed for an angel rehearsal the other day. When I had finished my solo she cried, “That’s it, Cherry baby! Sock it to ‘em!” And Miss Burgess told Amanda, who is another angel, that she ought to “take a leaf out of Cherry’s book”. She said, “Her voice may not always be quite in tune but at least it can be heard.”