reading. What is he reading? Itâs called Live and Let Die . How true. 8:30 p.m. No one has bothered to ring me. I wonder why Dave the Laugh hasnât phoned me? I could phone him, but that would mean he might think I am keen on him. Which I am not. 8:45 p.m. Vatiâs book is about James Bond, who is a sort of special agentâtype thing. Vati probably thinks he is like James Bond. Which he would be, if JamesBond was a porky bloke with a badger attachment. 9:00 p.m I am in the prime of my womanhood, nunga-nungas poised and trembling (attractively). Lips puckered up and in peak condition for a snogging fest. And I am in bed. At nine P.M.  Not alone for long, because my sister is now in bed with me. She has got her nighttime book for me to read to her. Heidi. About some girl who goes up a mountain in Swisscheeseland to live with some elderly mad bloke in lederhosen, who sadly for her is her grandfather. I know how she feels. At least my grandad doesnât wear leather shorts. Yet. 9:15 p.m. So far Heidi and Old Mr. Mad of the Mountains have herded up goats and eaten a LOT of cheese. A lot. They are constantly eating cheese. 9:20 p.m. Even Libby was so bored by the cheese extravaganza that she nodded off to sleep and I slipped downstairs to phone Jas. I did it quietly because there will only be the usual tutting explosion from Vati about me using the phone if he hears me. I whispered. âJas?â âOh, itâs you.â âWhat do you mean?â âWell, Iâve got my jimmyjams on and I was reading my book about the wilderness course that Tom and I are going to go on.â âOh I am sooooooo sorry, Jas, soooo sorry to interrupt your twig work, just because I am all on my own without the comfort of human company and my life is ebbing away.â There was silence at the other end of the phone. âJas, are you still there?â Her voice sounded a bit distant. âYes.â I said, âWhat is that cracking noise?â âErâ¦â âYou are actually playing with twigs, arenât you?â âWellâ¦Iâ¦â How pathetico. She said all swottily, âLook, I have to go. Iâve got my German homework to do.â âDonât bother learning their language; they are obsessed with goats.â âWhat are you talking about?â âLederhosen-a-gogo land people are obsessed with goatsâ¦and cheese.â âWho says so?â âItâs in a book I am reading about them.â âWhat book?â âItâs called Heidi . It is utterly crap.â âHeidi?â âJah.â Mrs. Picky Knickers sounded all swotty and know it all. â Heidi is a childrenâs book about a girl who lives in the Alps in Switzerland.â âYes, and your point is?â âThatâs not Germany.â âItâs very near.â âYou might as well say that Italy and France are the same because they are very near.â âI do say that.â âOr Italy and Greece.â âI say that as well.â âYou talk rubbish.â âYeah but I donât play with twigs, like aâ¦like a fringey thrush.â She slammed the phone down on me. Well. She is so annoying. But on the other hand, no one else is around to talk to. Phoned her back. âJas, Iâm sorry, you always hurt the one you love.â âDonât start the love thing.â âOK, but night-night.â âNight.â 10:00 p.m. Oh, I am so restless and bored. I think my mouth may be sealing over because of lack of snogging. Or shrinking. I wonder if that can happen? They say âUse It or Lose Itâ on all those really scary posters in the doctorsâ surgery, mainly for very very old people who are too lazy to walk about, and then their legs shrink, possibly. But it may be the same for lips. 10:05 p.m. No sign of any shrinkage on the basooma