Teenage TroublesTrottings and JottingsFriday 4Today was my birthday. Michael took some photos and I begged them off him.
Is it just me or does he seem entirely too interested in River’s bottom? And maybe Dad’s? Ew!
He gave me this book as a birthday present. He’s so thoughtful. (And hot!) I’d been dropping vague hints about wanting a book for keeping track of Xanthippe’s training and my progress as a rider (and maybe a stud book later, if things go on the way I hope) but I never expected anything so beautiful. It almost seems a shame to spoil the pages by writing on them. Seem to have got over that, though. Ha ha!
I’ve decided this is going to be part horsey stuff, part scrapbook and part diary. Not like those stupid little diaries obscure friends and relations get you for Christmas, where there’s not room to write anything much but every day has the same amount of space, even ones where nothing happened. Not like the ‘Top Secret’ diaries we had to keep in Miss Smith’s class, either. Those ones where you wrote about ‘What I did at the weekend’ (and more personal stuff, if you were really stupid) and it was all totally secret, apart from Miss Smith marking it and correcting your spelling. I bet she left them out on Parents’ Evening, too. No, this will be my diary and I’ll write as much or as little as I feel like writing and no-one else is going to read it. Uncle Stiles told me he keeps a diary on the computer. That’s silly, if you ask me. I wouldn’t trust Dad not to hack into it. A book in my underwear drawer should be safe, though. Dad wouldn’t look there. Mum might find it but she’d never dream of reading someone else’s private stuff.
I’m calling it ‘Trottings and Jottings’. Good, innit?
That’s the great thing about a really private diary. I can say things like ‘innit’ without Mum correcting me all the time and telling me to use proper Simlish.
* * * * *
Saturday 4Uncle Stiles had a birthday, too. He’s really old now. If I was getting that old, I wouldn’t be so happy about it.
* * * * *
Sunday 5Another birthday! Today my darling Xanthippe grew up into a big horse.
Now we can really start on the training. Or at least, we can start once I’ve learned to drive. I told Mum and Dad I didn’t need a driving licence. Why bother when you can ride everywhere? They insisted, though. Poo. Mum’s teaching me and it’s a lot harder than it looks. At this rate, I’ll be an adult before I get out of second gear.
Michael the Hottie told me he’s moving out. I’m devastated. I may possibly have said something really stupid about being able to stay here if he married me. I’m not a kid any more, after all. Hasn’t he noticed? He just came out with that tired old line of his about being a lifelong Bachelor. Ha ha! (Not.) Personally, I think there’s Another Woman.
He gave me a leaving present, though. Well, it’s for Xanthippe really. He says it’ll make her into a yellow horse in nature as well as name (or as near as horses get to yellow in the real world). All I have to do is feed her this tablet and she’ll look just like the Xanthippes I’ve been sketching in my school jotter.
How did he know about that, anyway?
He says ‘the aliens’ gave him the tablet. Mad, I tell you. Still hot, though. I haven’t decided whether to give her the treatment. What if it’s poisonous? Maybe I should ask Dad to analyse it.
* * * * *
“Ayesha, what's going on? Tam said you were ‘busy with the twins’ when you couldn’t come to the meeting yesterday, then Xena came home from school today going on about meeting Deniz in her maths class. I thought he must be really precocious or something but she says he’s a teenager like her.
What happened?!”
“Well, you know it was the twins’ birthday on Thursday? I thought about having a party but it’s hard when you’re on your own. In the end, I just bought them both cakes and we had a little party all by ourselves. They liked it. In fact, they liked it so much that they decided they wanted another go. I’d given them their dinner money for school, so yesterday they went to the supermarket to buy themselves two more cakes so they could have the fun all over again. Then, of course, they found out how much cakes cost. They could only afford one so Aoife distracted the girl on the bakery counter while Deniz stole another.”
“Oh no!”
“Oh yes! I’m so ashamed. I mean, I know I used to be a criminal but I’ve been going straight for ages. I didn’t expect to see my kids stealing stuff. They got caught… but not before they’d blown out the candles. They didn’t realise what would happen, of course. They just thought they’d get the fun of blowing out candles again. So there they were, my baby twins, suddenly great big teenagers. Delinquent teenagers.”
“So what now? Are they in big trouble? I didn't hear anything at work.”
“It was touch and go for a while. Justine Keaton wanted to prosecute; make an example of them. I think she’s behind on her targets. Fortunately, Mr Singh, the manager, saw the funny side. He thinks it’s punishment enough that they’ve got to go to high school with only a day’s primary schooling as preparation. And we’ve agreed that they’ll both work at the supermarket after school, without wages, until they’ve paid for the cake they stole.”
* * * * *
Trottings and JottingsTuesday 5I was looking in the Personals of the
Sunset Valley Echo before school. I mean, it’s dire, but the lonely hearts can be funny. Then I saw the births. I knew Mike had Another Woman.
ALTO Nick and Vita are delighted to announce the arrival of their grandson and heir, Richard. Thanks to the staff on Jennie Clavell ward.
ALTO-BACHELOR To Mike and Holly, a son, Richard. Congratulations! Love from Simis, Jocasta and Bella.
Huh! Holly Alto? OK, she’s rich and grown-up and stuff but really? How could anyone prefer her to me?
Well, I’ll show you, Michael Bachelor! I persuaded Dad that we ought to have a party for Xavier’s birthday and since he’s too young to have any friends of his own, we could invite their friends instead. Especially the younger ones. He fell for it. I think Dad quite likes parties.
Uncle Stiles’ wife, Ayesha, came as well. I don’t think I’ve met her before. Well, not since I’ve been old enough to remember, anyway. Uncle S. looked so happy.
Mostly, though, I was eyeing up the young men. Who’d be good for driving Michael mad with jealousy? Well, madder than he already is. (Aliens! Honestly!)
This one’s called Mirage. Weird name. He’s not bad-looking, though, and he’s keen on martial arts. I like a man who works out. I wonder what Mr Bunch was telling him? I’m sure I heard him say ‘McGraw’.
Mirage seems to be interested in that Sandi French, though.
Sam Sekemoto’s not bad, either, if you go for baldies.
In the end, I went with the safe option: my old friend Tyrone. I asked him to Prom. I’m not sure I fancy him but he’s fun to be with. And I can always talk it up later – and make sure MB hears all about it.
I was fed up of being cooped up inside, so Xanthippe and I went for a ride up Summer Hill after the party. Oops! Forgot about the stupid curfew. One of Mum’s colleagues turned up to take me home in disgrace. Not fair!
Even more embarrassingly, I haven’t really got the hang of dismounting yet and got stuck on the way down. I bet Mum will hear all about that, too. How humiliating.
I thought Mum and Dad might stop me from going to Prom but I sucked up enough that they let me off. Really looking forward to tomorrow.
P.S. You can see Xanthippe’s new coat in those pics, although it’s a bit dark. I must get a better photo. Dad analysed the tablet and said it was safe, as far as he could tell, although ‘the aliens’ technology is way ahead of ours’. Dad, too? What’s with this alien stuff? Anyway, I gave Xanth the tablet and it worked. She’s so pretty now.
* * * * *
Wednesday 5Auntie Emma got married yesterday. I thought the Echo would have some sort of announcement but there was a proper write-up. I didn’t realise Auntie Em was famous.
HATCH MATCHED!
In a notable departure from tradition, celebrity chef Emma Hatch has married one of her underlings, sous-chef Dave Ramsey. This is not how top chefs are supposed to behave. Just ask her new husband’s near-namesake. Tantrums, throwing kitchen utensils and demanding food five minutes ago are more the expected form. Still, the woman almost single-handedly responsible for transforming the local diner from greasy spoon into the Simelin-starred Serving Hatch has clearly always been open to new ideas.
Let’s hope this is another recipe for success.
I hope they’ll be happy together. I mean, he’s really old but I love Auntie Emma. She said she’d have married a long time ago but she was worried about the rest of us. It’s only now that ‘the aliens’ have given us a food-copying thingy that she feels happy to move out. Honestly, is every adult in this place obsessed with ‘aliens’?
Folie à rather-a-lot if you ask me.
She gave me some more photos of the wedding.
She may be a bit mad but it’s sweet. Congratulations and good luck, Auntie Emma and Dave!
Oops, time to get ready for Prom. I don’t want to keep Tyrone waiting.
* * * * *
Wow! Just wow!
I got voted Prom Queen. Totally wasn’t expecting that. And then Tyrone said, “Congratulations, Queen Kiss-ena” and kissed me! We’re going steady now. Take that, Michael Bachelor!
The McGraw twins really were only children for a couple of days, although probably not for the reason I gave. Story (non)-progression is fighting back. All of the babies born outside the active household have been boys, apart from Yvette Ursine (who doesn’t really count) and Aoife. This might make the next generation of townies a bit hard to arrange. Maybe I should start locking up pregnant women with a load of watermelons. To make it worse, Aoife has disappeared. Maybe she’s just been sent to boarding school or something – Bella Bachelor also disappeared for a while but is now back – but I have a nasty feeling she might be another one like Lee and Kate Goole or Kieran CrumpleSteel, who’s there in the family tree but otherwise absent. She certainly can’t be invited to parties and doesn’t show up as an option if Ayesha’s household is invited over. I’m rather sad about this. Aoife was showing signs of being gorgeous – a prettier version of Ayesha – but with an amusingly Stiles-like personality.
For a while, I thought Richard Alto had also done a disappearing act. Holly and Michael actually appear to be living together (well done, story progression) but there was no sign of Richard. It wasn’t until I moved Miraj Alvi in in pursuit of townie pairings that I found him. The three Alvis, Vita, Richard and two pets were all living together in the Alvis’ little house. That must have been a squash. Richard has also aged faster than he should have done and was at high school ten days after his birth.
Oddly enough, Emma’s choice of spouse was dictated by what remains of story progression. I had the camera on Stiles in the garden one evening and a familiar figure appeared next door. I moused over and got ‘Connor is going home’. Intrigued, I sent someone over to investigate and found that Tori Kimura and Connor Frio were an item. Dave was still free, so Emma married him.
Next chapter
