Girls in Love Read online

  You wrote ‘Love Ellie’ for the first time. That’s the best bit of your letter. I’ve read those two tiny words over and over, so many times it’s a wonder the ink hasn’t worn right off the page, such is the ardour of my laser-gaze.

  LOTS of love,

  Dan XXX

  Dear Dan,

  I didn’t mean to post that last letter! I just shoved it in an envelope in a tearing rush in the morning and put it in the letter box as I ran for school and THEN I remembered some of the stuff I’d said and I was so embarrassed. I even ran back to the letterbox and tried to wriggle my hand through the slot. Then this police panda car slowed down and I thought, Oh, my God, I’m going to get arrested for attempting to steal the Royal Mail. I wriggled my wrist free and sort of grinned sheepishly at these police guys and they just laughed at me.

  MOST people laugh at me. I like the idea of wearing a spacesuit. I’d like one too. Only how can one communicate in a fishbowl helmet? You couldn’t go shopping unless you did some serious miming to show you wanted the latest indie album, leaping in the air in manic mode. Come to think of it, you wouldn’t be able to HEAR it. And what about talking to your friends? (Though one of my best friends still isn’t talking to ME) And school??? Though I’m not a brainbox like you obviously are, so I don’t do much communicating with the teachers at the best of times.

  This is the WORST of times. I feel seriously fed up. Oh, God, I’d better stop now or I’ll write ANOTHER long rambly rubbishy letter. I didn’t really put ‘Love Ellie’ last time, did I? I don’t remember. I don’t ever put Love to anyone, not even Luv or Lurve. I just put me.

  Ellie.

  Dear Ellie,

  You did SO put ‘Love Ellie’. I have your letter here, beneath my heart. Well, that sounds poetic but it’s not anatomically accurate. I don’t have any pockets up at chest level. I’ve got your letter in my trouser pocket. So your words of Love (not Luv, not Lurve, LOVE) are actually rubbing against my thigh, only that sounds embarrassingly intimate and I don’t want this letter to develop into one of those porny pervy jobs some of the guys at my school write to girls. No, their letters are probably not TO girls, they’re just ABOUT girls.

  I don’t want to think of you like that, Ellie. Not that you aren’t absolutely wonderfully attractive etc, etc, etc. It was love at first sight like I said. I knew you were the girl for me. I think about you all the time. I’ve never been in love before. I suppose I love my mum and dad (though they do go ON a bit, and act all silent and reproachful if I want to do anything normal like watch RED DWARF or BOTTOM or play computer games or go to a football match – because they just want to read books and listen to classical music and wear Oxfam and recycle everything and lead a life as Green as Grass they think I should too). I love my brothers and sisters a bit too (though like your brother Eggs they are Right Pains – no, Excruciating Agonies, especially when they come barging into my bedroom and read all my private stuff and mock my new hairstyle). I am trying to turn myself into a dead cool guy so you will look at me and decide you’ll follow me, your lord, throughout the world I haven’t suddenly gone nuts – well nuttier than I am already – it’s something Juliet says. Are you doing ROMEO AND JULIET too? It’s quite good though it’s murder doing it at my school because we’re all boys so some poor sap has to be Juliet when we read aloud. I was the original poor sap actually, and everyone fell about and I could see this was NOT going to improve my street cred among the lads so I had to camp it up and do Juliet in a silly high-pitched girly voice which got me into trouble with the teacher – shame, as he’s quite a decent bloke really and he’s lent me some of his books – but it made everyone think I’m a nut instead of a nerd, only I don’t want to be, and there’s nothing I can do about my weedy physique or lousy complexion and I can’t even earn any hard cash for cool clothes till I’m fourteen BUT I did think a haircut might help. Mum normally just chops bits off here and there. NOT a pretty sight. So I badgered her to let me go to a proper barber and I said I wanted a radical new hairstyle, one that would last. Until I see you: WHEN WILL THAT BE??? You can come and stay for the weekend any time but our house is ever so crowded with kids’ stuff. All the flannels in our bathroom are currently growing mustard and cress and you can’t eat off the table in the living room because it’s covered with a giant jigsaw puzzle and there are ducks swimming in the bath (generally just the plastic variety but you never know!) and if you sleep in the only spare bed that means my sisters Rhianne and Lara will be in the bunk bed opposite and Rhianne sings all the time, even when she’s asleep, and Lara climbs into bed with you at four in the morning, bringing her entire soft toy menagerie with her. So you would be ever so EVER SO welcome but not extremely comfortable. So how about if I stay with you? I have this cousin who is going out with a girl at London University so he drives down most Friday nights and says he doesn’t mind giving me a lift, which is brilliant. So what about next weekend? Although maybe I ought to wear a space helmet for real Made of black ambulance glass. Because the new haircut might just be a bit of a mistake. My mum shook her head and sighed deeply when she saw me. My dad got all worried that I’d joined some skin-head gang. My brothers and sisters fell about laughing. Which was NOTHING compared to the reaction of the guys at school. I am certainly well established as a nut now. You will also get a right laugh when you see me, Ellie. So . . . next week, yes? I’ll be arriving between eight and nine, depending on traffic. See you S-O-O-O-O-N!

  Lots and lots and lots of love,

  Dan

  Dear Dan,

  No, don’t come next weekend! I’m sorry, but it’s Magda’s birthday, and we’re hanging out there Saturday and then will be going out celebrating somewhere, but it’s girls only, I’m afraid, so I can’t ask you to come. In actual fact I don’t really think it would be a good idea if you came at all because our spare bed situation is pretty chronic too. (Eggs broke the springs on the guest bed so it’s just a camp bed, the sort that suddenly springs shut when you’re inside it), so let’s wait until we meet up again in Wales, right? Do you go there at Christmas? We do, it’s completely crackers, we all have to wear six jumpers and it snows and there’s frost INSIDE the windows, let alone outside, but it’s becoming a loopy Family tradition, worst luck. Still, if you’re there too we could play Sir Edmund Hillary and Sherpa Tensing.

  L. Ellie

  Dear Ellie,

  I can’t wait till Christmas! I’ll come the next weekend AFTER the next weekend! Lots and lots and lots and LOTS of Love,

  Dan

  ‘Ofcourse Dan can come and stay the weekend after next,’ says Anna. ‘Oh, Eggs! Watch your juice. You’re spilling it all.’

  ‘No! You weren’t listening,’ I say. ‘I don’t want him to come.’

  ‘I thought you just said you did,’ says Anna, stripping Eggs stark naked and stuffing his pyjamas straight into the washing machine.

  ‘I’m all bare. Look at my willy, Ellie,’ says Eggs, practically waving it at me.

  ‘Yuck. Can’t you stuff him in the washing machine too, Anna?’ I say.

  She’s on her knees, sorting through the dirty clothes basket, juggling little balls of socks.

  ‘You just wish you had a willy too,’ says Eggs.

  ‘Attaboy, Eggs,’ says Dad, finishing his coffee. ‘You’ve got these women sussed out. Right, I’m off.’

  ‘Why are you going so early?’ says Anna. ‘Can’t you wait and take Eggs to school?’

  ‘No, there’s someone I’ve got to catch,’ says Dad, scooping up Eggs with one arm and giving him a kiss.

  ‘Who?’ says Anna, her fists clenching.

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake. Jim Dean, the graphics guy. Anna, don’t start.’

  ‘It’s not me that starts things, it’s you,’ says Anna. ‘OK OK, you go to work. Just make sure you come home on time. I’m not going to miss my Italian class again.’

  ‘You and that wretched evening class. You go on about it as if it’s the most important thing in your life,’ says Dad as