Monday, 20 January 2014

A Groovy Education with Bev and Carol

 Bev and Carol are characters from my two (soon to be three) humorous memoirs.  See right side panel for direct links to Amazon.  'One Summer in France' and 'Bunny on a Bike'.



Episode Six

Enrolled in Netball Club.  On a whim.  La di da!  Had form – goal-attack, second team, Bridgnorth Grammar School.  Have photos.  Could lie – no one would know.  Naughty.

Met Janice (captain – dynamic, posh, firm handshake, caterpillar eyebrows).  Other girls - less blonde than me, not wearing make-up.  Bigger calfs/thighs.  Met future lifelong friend and hellraiser – CAROL.  Full-fat Devonshire produce.  Excellent netball player, goal-defence.  No inkling of future significance.

Practice session – familiar gunky rubbery smell of gym, feel of ball, smallness of net.  Began as G.A.  Instantly demoted to G.S.  Scored seven goals (thank you God!). Bruises accumulated – three.  Shoulder barges received – infinite.  Evident lack of fitness impossible to hide.  Carol kind/encouraging (out of character).

Wistful parting, chums/seekers of sporting perfection.  Match arranged for following week.  Shitting pants.

Back to Room.  Bored.  Remembered English assignment deadline. BUGGER. ‘Courtly Love and the Knight’s Tale’.  Hmmm.  Courtly love.  Hmmm.  The Knight’s Tale.  Research/reading needed.  Notes bundled into bag and quick march to library.  Chivalry, courtly love, which is stronger?  Needed Harry Hill (not yet born?).  Re-read Chaucer’s tale of boy meets girl, second boy meets same girl, girl chooses boy, boy gets himself killed, girl takes second choice with blessing of first boy.  Unlikely.  Nice rhyming.

Wrote essay.  Re-wrote essay.  Decided didn’t know how to write essays.  Underlined title, added name and date.  Considered smiley face.

Back to Room.  Examined hair. Roots showing.  Opened box of  Polyblonde (ammonia-based product).  Applied to blackest bits first. Woozy. Opened window.  Timed twenty minutes. 

Helen with boyfriend, Kevin, (up for weekend).  Tall, dark and insecure.  Sylvia arrived with tea (on tray!).  Asked what I had put on my hair.  Mouth stayed open when finished speaking.  Imagined plugging it with giant gobstopper.

Listened to list of damage caused by ammonia. Considered informing VBFH of damage done to eyes by hideous arrangement of facial features.  Compromised - offered advice on keeping nose out of other people’s business.  Kevin inhaled tea.  Sylvia calm in presence of ‘puerile comments’.

Washed hair, trimmed fringe.  Light swearing.  Trimmed fringe some more.  Oh, shit. 

To be continued…

1 comment:

  1. I used todo that with my hair constantly. The joys of getting oldre are that you don't care anymore :-) And of course I'm permanently 'blonde' now!