Louise Rennison - ‘…startled by his furry shorts!’

It is impossible to get a decent sleep in German – you just drift off and the shouting begins. It’s all Achtung! or Schnell! and Raus raus! and more Spangleferkel! Cor blimey. I was awake now, so I might as well do something. I got the horns out. I nudged Rosie awake and said, “Look at my lap.”

She said, “As I’ve said before, Georgia, you are an attractive girl and everything but I’m just not interested.”

I said, “No, really look. Take a good look. Drink in the sight. The bison horns are back!” I made up a little dance with the horns on either hand.

Rosie said, “Sound out the bells of England – the fun days are back!”

Yes indeedy, even though I am on the rack of luuurve I have the bison horns to comfort me. As we ambled off to Ace Gang Headquarters behind the fives court I said, “Do you know I can feel it in my waters, the bison horns are a symbol of hope. The fact that Slim gave them back is a sign from Baby Jesus, it is the dawn of a new era.”

Ellen said, “What, er, do you… er, do you mean that people will be more spiritual and get back to nature and looking after the earth and…”

Is she mad? I said, “No, what it means is that Masimo will be mine, mine all miney mine mine.”

I said it to the gang, apart from Jas, who I was ignorez- vousing like billio. She was doing reverse ignorez-vousing by pretending to be interested in what Ellen was saying. I said to the others, “In some ways I am looking forward to the autumn term because of course it means the return of the beret. Imagine the scene: a cold morning at Stalag 14, the grey day stretches ahead filled with lesbian perverts and sadistic ‘teachers’; but then up the hill, past the Foxwood lads setting fire to their farts and generally being prats, comes a sight to lift the spirits. Could it be? Is it true? Silhouetted against the sky is an awesome sight. It’s the return of the Ace Gang in winter uniform. Berets proudly worn with bison-horn attachments. Yesssss!”

The gang broke into spontaneous Klingon saluting. Maybe everything is going to be all right.

When we got to our headquarters, Rosie donned her horns. She strolled up and down just enjoying the magnificence of her own horns. Once we all had them on, I said, “Perhaps this is a good time to repeat the Ace Gang manifesto, because some people who shall remain nameless to save them shame – and that means you, Jas – seem to forget about the Ace Gang when boys turn up.”

Jas didn’t say anything, she just straightened her horns and smoothed down her fringe. In case she was going to have a violent spaz like this morning, I went behind Rosie because my ankle still hurt.

Rosie said, “Yes, one for all and all for one and one for the road and so on.”

Jas was still fiddling about with her fringe, so Rosie put her arms round me and Jas and said, “Let bygones be bygones, shake hands and let the rule of Horn reign.”

Mabs, Jools and Ellen were all looking at us. Mabs said, “One for all and one for the road and all for one.”

I put my hand out first to Jas, which is vair vair nice of me seeing as it was me who was kicked. But that is me all over. Always the first to offer the hand of friendiness.

After a little minute Jas held out her hand. Rosie raised her eyebrows, and the Ace Gang started doing wise (ish) nodding. Rosie said, “Now hug.”

Jas gave me a little hug, and I sort of hugged her back. There was a bit of nunga-nunga contact so I leaped back quickly and said, “Er… group hug, group hug.”

This culminated in a group hug that nearly made my eyes pop out. Jools was so hyped up, she yelled, “One for all and all for one and all in a one for… anyway, hip hip hooray for Merrie England and the Ace Gang!!!”

We finished up with a sailor’s hornpipe (which I have to say was a spontaneous idea of mine, because England is after all a seafaring nation and renowned for its hornpipes).

Then Wet Lindsay and Astonishingly Dim Monica came round the corner, wearing their prefect badges. How uncool is that? Vair vair uncool is the answer. They are always following us about – haven’t they got lives? Lindsay has done something alarming to her head. Her hair has somehow grown a foot over the weekend. (I mean twelve inches; I don’t mean that there was a foot coming out of her head, although there might as well be.) She’s had extensions. What a mistake. They are spectacularly chav and naff. She said, “Aaaah, are you little girls practising games for one of your pyjama parties? Will there be lemonade and biscuits?”

How could Masimo even think of snogging her? Erlack a pongoes. I drew myself up with great dignitosity and adjusted my horns, which had slightly fallen over one eye in the excitement of the hornpipe. “Your hair is looking unusually, er, unusual, Lindsay, if you don’t mind me saying?”

“I mind you saying anything. In fact I mind you breathing.”

The bell rang then for end of break. And she went on: “Get back inside, because if one of you is a minute late, it’s a bad conduct mark for you all.”

Oooooh, fear factor ten. Not. But we all went grumbling and moaning off towards the science block. Lindsay yelled after us. “And take those horns off, you stupid idiots.”

I said, “Charming, what a charming charming person she is. In every single way charming.”

Walking home with Jas and Ro Ro. Jas has even done linkyupsies with me. She can’t stand being unfriends with me, really. Especially as something vair merde and odure has happened.

Ro Ro said, “I can’t believe our horns have been confiscated AGAIN. How crap is life in Stalag 14? Vair vair crap, is the answer. We should write to the newspapers about it. We are almost bound to be drug addicts by the time we are seventeen because of all the trauma.”

I said, “We’d only had them back for two hours. It is so so crap. Once again we are hornless.”

Jas said, “Not only that but we’ve got detention for two nights.”

I said to her, “Have you thought about going to hospitals and cheering people up, Jas? Because if you have, don’t – that’s all I’m saying.”

Rosie said, “When we started the bison dance in blodge, I thought Miss Baldwin was busy looking at Jas’s newt.”

Jas said, “She was. She was very interested in its peculiar markings. Tom said that actually it was the only one of its kind that—”

I said, “Jas, can you shut up now?”

She of course got the immediate hump and said, “It was the stools crashing over that attracted her attention.”

Merde .

Jas went on raving on to me, “And even then I think she might have let us off. But you just had to cheek her.”

What? What? Why was it my fault? I said that to Mrs Prissypants, “Why does the finger of shame always point towards me?”

Jas went rambling on, “Because when she asked you what you were doing, you said that it was a Viking day of celebration. That was when she snapped.”

Booo.

After Jas went home, Rosie and I did a bit of skipping to raise our spirits. I think our skipping days are numbered, though, my nungas are vair heavy. We had to sit down on a bench near the park.

All quiet on the Loon front. I slumped down on the sofa.

Oh God – Tues, Weds, Thurs and all of Friday to go before I know my luuurve fate. Why does he need a week to think about it? Why didn’t he just say, “Of course I want to be your one and only. You are a Sex Kitty of the first water.”

Dave the Laugh would have said that.