He was always in the front row. He's looking at you, you know. He came to every performance, even at the girls schools. He's mad about you.
I think that they love me, but they never say. Doreen and Chardonnay are a funny pair, quite crazy really, but I love them both. I want to tell them that I love them, but somehow the words never come out, even when I'm tied to them all night to stop me sleepwalking.
It's different with Miss Cavendish, she is always telling me that she loves me. She loves all of us. I love her too.
His name is Peter and he's mad about you, Brenda. He lives in the village and goes to the big boys school in the big town. He goes to piano classes on Friday nights. He's got a brother and a sister. His mother is an architect. What more do you want to know about him?
To be true, I was mad about him too. Well, maybe not at first. But big problem, how could I like him and like Doreen and Chardonnay and Miss Cavendish at the same time?
I told Miss Cavendish about my feelings for the boy, the boy I had not yet met. She said that it was quite normal and that she was happy for me and that she loved me. But I could not tell Doreen and Chardonnay, I could not, how could I do that to them?
Brenda! Open your ears!
Yes, it was Chardonnay, who else would yell like that?
We love you! We don't own you! Got it?
I cried.
A week later I was sitting on the sofa reading a book or ignoring TV when Peter sat next to me. Not quite true. He was sat next to me. Doreen and Chardonnay had sandwiched him on his way back from piano lessons and plonked him next to me on the sofa.
Hello, Peter!
Hello, Brenda! Nice to meet you.
I was wondering when you would come and meet me.
Brenda is such a nice...
No it isn't! I don't like the name Brenda. I'll tell you a little secret. (I pushed myself closer to him.) I've got a sister called Brenda and I don't like her very much. Don't tell anyone, will you? I can trust you, can't I?
Oh, yes! You can! And I've got to tell you (emotions rising) that I like you very much. Oh, I must tell that... Oh! How can I be so silly? I've only known you two minutes. You must think that I am a very silly boy indeed. I'm sorry.
Yes! You're right. I do think that you are a silly boy. But that's OK. All boys your age are silly. (I put my arm around him.) Sometimes it's good to be silly.
You mean, you like me too?
Peter, you can be as silly as you like. I don't mind. I like being next to you. You can call me Brenda if you like. I don't mind. Perhaps I should be nicer to my sister and then I could start growing again.
Growing again? I don't understand.
Oh, I stopped growing because of my sister. That's why I look so young.
Oh, Brenda I'll wait for you, until you're old enough. I promise.
Now you are being really silly.
Remember Romeo and Juliet were about fourteen, you know!