No one likes Maureen

School Diary 30 November 2007

Yesteraday Monika took us out. Even Sophie had to come. I saw her tying her belly button ring to the chest of drawers but it didn’t work. We had to promise to be nice to Monika.

First we went to Hamleys. I showed Monika the Collectible Barbie that costs £4,000.00. She said this is what her father earns in a year. Theo asked for five years’ pocket money in one go so that he could have a vintage Chopper, then he made us walk down the Harry Potter staircase even though he doesn’t like Harry Potter. I hate my brother. Then we went to Top Shop, Oxford Street, where we meet another au-pair called Sven. Then we all went to the London Eye, including Sven. Theo made faces at Sven and Monika but I don’t think they noticed.

My parents weren’t talking to each other when we got home. I hope this doesn’t mean they’re going to get divorced as we will then have to have Maureen the guinea pig from school ‘to help us get through a difficult time.’ No one likes Maureen.

I not know where to start, but I start

I not know where to start, but I start
I taking the children into middle part of London. Bella and Tom they needs to be together to discuss things and have their Quality Time. Bella is lighting many aromatherapy candles and they is waving us goodbye in their dressing gowns. Tom he look worried.
I does the non-Quality Time. I never see so many people! We goes to Hamleys toy shop (for children that has everything there is always something more and it always expensive and makes lots of noise). Then we go to Topshop in Oxford Street: is place where everyone go to look like Kate Moss (model look good in grandad’s shorts, she don’t need to go to store). Then big things happen.
BIG THINGS HAPPEN! I see all these nice young men sitting on sofas waiting for their girlfriends in changing rooms and I imagine Sven is waiting for me. Then, oh, no, I see that one is HIM! And then this blonde girl, she so lovely tan, natural, come out in nice green tunic top. She turn round and round in front of him. I greener than cloth. I make to walk away. My heart go down. Why he so nice to me over Cressida kitchen table, then having a blonde in Topshop? I take kaftan in nineteen sixties style and we all goes quick into changing place. I tell Theo to close his eyes. But we soon see note appearing under curtain. It say: ‘Monika – come and meet my sister, Bibi.’
I go out. Sven he say he has enough shopping with his sister, who in London for shopping trip. I is like Japanese flower that been put in glass of water. He ask can he come with me and children – imagine how my heart go up!
We have promise Theo to go in London Eye (this big wheel that go round and
round. You see all over London and let everyone know where your nan live.). We is all going in one capsule when Sophie she see how I like Sven and she make it that we in separate capsule to children – thank you, Sophie, you not know how grateful I am eternally.
I not seen Sven so nervous as when Eye starts. He look at me, his blue eyes so piercing and yet gentle. I wanting them for my bead box.
He say ‘I have to look at you, Monika.’ I say this alright. I hold his hand.
It is cold and wet. He say he has vertigo; if look out will give rise to
vomitous situation. I look him in eyes. He has risked the vomit for me.
Thank you very much my dearest.
He kiss me. He kiss me as ground go away beneath us.He kisses me all 360 degrees. I forget everything, even Cressida. When I look next we is back at start. Is like being in heaven and I forget everything else.
‘I have liked you ever since we first met, Monika,’ he say. I say I like him
too. I wish another 360 degree. I close eyes again. He say there is
something important he want to tell me. It is very good news, he say. He has
been signed up by modelling agency and they has work already for him.
Cressida know someone in agency. It will help pay for his college course when he back in Sweden, but he won’t be so much in Muswell Hill now. I not know whether to be happy or sad.
But is my good-looking boyfriend not going to be famous male model? Is not
we a dream couple like the Poshes and Becks? But then I remembering Mrs Awale. I ask if he doing less in Muswell Hill if she could be doing some of it. He will ask Cressida. He kiss me again. I want it last forever. I not telling him about Arvo Pitkin. Ever.
We go back to Crouch End. There is nice smell of Body Shop at Merryfields but Tom and Bella they is looking depressed. He is reading book on history of Uxbridge. Is not married life as we wish it in Estonia.

Today is maximum worse

Isn’t there Estonian proverb that if everything already bad enough, we shouldn’t worry, will get worse? Today is maximum worse.
I taking Theo after school to birthday party of his friend Josh. On way I meet Mrs Awale and Ahmed who go there too. Mrs Awale look worried. She say she lost her job doing the cleaning at place called Canary Wharf. They say she illegal immigrant because she cannot find piece of paper that say she OK to be here. I feeling extra sorry for her.
I already seen photos of Cressida’s house in magazine (Bella has special copy; I think she would like it to be her home.) House inside is so big and so white and so empty. This is what they calling Minimalism (means you have full time job to hide all your boring bits and pieces). I get to my point: Cressida make it that Harry Potter wizard coming to Josh’s party. He doing party games for hour. Is not resembling other experiences I am hearing of the English children’s party entertainers who are not liking children or have an elastic problem with the beard.
Josh open presents: is biggest set of felt tips in world from us (these are colour pens, really cheap). He excited: many white walls in house. But more excited when open Star Wars light sabre from Ahmed. Ahmed so pleased: he tell us all how he choose present in Oxfam shop (cheap things that nobody wants). Cressida say is Josh’s before – it has his broken bit – she give it to Oxfam. But Josh so pleased to have back and is shooting us. Cressida try to take sabre from Josh, say is old dirty toy, is rubbish. Not proper present. This make me find my courage and I say Mrs Awale she has no money, she done her best. Cressida she stare at me as if toilet seat has spoken.
While children eat I go into kitchen far away from Cressida eyes. Is Harry Potter wizard there. He take off hat and is man so golden and good-looking I think Adonis himself have rival in Sven Appelson. He pour me glass of sherry. We does our toasties. Why does the sherry leave little shiny globes on his wizard beard and what must it feel like when they is licked off?
‘Is good to see you again,’ he say. ‘I been thinking of you.’
I want to know if HE been thinking of me every second, minute, hour, day –
or is I just a reminder like on your email system that pop up now and again?
I say ‘You good wizard but then you is drama student and can do
all parts.’
He change subject and say he so love London, he think of no better place. Is so much happening; it make Stockholm seem like suburb. I say for Estonia too; we more village where people all know your business, how big are the holes in your underwear on washing line and who you will be marrying from day you are born. I blush.
Child rush to sink. She vomit.
‘Is nice sometimes though to do quieter things in London,’ he say. He love we meet at weekend but his time is taken.
Before I have chance to ask him, nice-like, where time is taken up, I hear
‘Sven is so good that we don’t know what we’d do without him.’ Is Her.
Cressida. Up close she look like forty-five years. Has scratched surface like old record. But she dressing like she twenty-five. She think she Madonna. No on tadi!
She send me out of kitchen to organise game. There is twenty under-sixes waiting for me to play game called ‘Twister’. I does it with my arms and legs but I cannot and I is falling over. Everyone is laughing. And then I see her whispering her good wishes in the ear of MY Sven over marble workplace and then they is finding it hilarious too. I feel my heart fall down into my boot.

Dear Father Christmas ...

Dear Father Christmas,

My mother insists we put our Christmas wishes in a letter box with cotton
wool my sister made last year before she discovered Bratz Rock Angels.
If you existed, this is what I'd ask you for…

World peace and for the people of all countries to have enough to eat. This
will be particularly the case when many people seem to have too much to eat
over Christmas – including things like brussel sprouts and those turkeys
with the plastic bags inside which make some of us feel quite sick.
I would like you to send whatever you would spend on me to that man who
stands outside the House of Commons still protesting about the war in Iraq.
He could buy himself a new pup tent or something. He looks like he could do
with a new tee shirt as well. Please use re-cycled wrapping paper.

Why is my mother in such a bad mood by the way?

Peace, love and Buddahood.
Sophie


Dear Father Christmas

I want

Bratz Wintertime Wonderland Ski Lodge
Bratz Salon and Spa
Bratz Runaway Disco
Bratz Limo
Bratz 13” TV
Bratz Lipstick MP3 Player
Bratz Party Plane
Bratz Wild West: Fianna
Bratz Rock Angelz: Chloe
Bratz Big Bayz Spa.

Love
Fay (8 years old)


Dear Father Christmas

I would like these for Christmas …

Doctor Who Dalek Sec Hybrid Voice Changer Mask, Real Arsenal Number 10 shirt, Transformers Movie Leader Optimus Prime, Flytech Dragonfly, Tyco Cyber Shocker, Dinosaur version of Robosapiens, Mortal Kombat TV Game, Radio controlled Mercedes SLR, Z-Rex Blaster, Spiderman Shooter and Mask, Captain Scarlett Skybase, Mighty Monster Truck, No Harry Potter games (these are still just boring games).

From
Theo Markham, age 6


Dear Father Christmas

I wish very much snow like in my country.
A Parka with furry trim
Book on English customs
A cuddle from someone who is kind and looks nice too.

Love
Monika (I nineteen).

Tom, you should have a health warning

Tom, you should have a health warning: ‘ I wear elasticated shoes because I trip over my own laces …’I do career entropy – what do you do in the office?’ There’s a huge Visa bill on the dresser for all the things we can’t afford before Christmas. Please pay it because this may be the last time we are ever able not to afford a hundred and eight Christmas presents equivalent to the GDP of a minor African nation. There’s a gas bill next to it. Please pay that too. I’m going to be late tonight. Some of the younger members of my team have invited me out for a drink. They’re always inviting me out for a drink – because they’re in their twenties and thirties, they’re single and, do you know what, they’re happy, and I’m always saying ‘I’ve got to rush home. I’ve got to check the children have done their homework and that my prat of a husband isn’t just sitting there reading a book on the M11.’ But this time I’ve said yes. Tell Monika Fay needs picking up from Brownies and the Dinosaur Shapes are at the top of the freezer. Have you ever thought about working in a sleep laboratory – or would that take too much energy and initiative?

Bella

Dear Tom

University of Teddington,
Teddington Road
Teddington TW11 OLY

22 November 2007

Dear Tom,

As a valued and long-standing member of the university, you will be aware that we are currently having to assess our priorities in the interests of efficiency and cost-savings.

It is therefore with regret that I have to inform you that, as from the New Year, Middlesex Studies will cease to be offered at the university and existing students will be transferred to the M25: Psycho-Geography and Beyond module.

As the only remaining member of the Middlesex Studies team we would like to thank you for your major contribution to the University of Teddington and wish you well in your future career.

A member of our team will be available to discuss redundancy details and a special free helpline is available to help you examine other career options.

Yours sincerely

pp. Jon Benson, Human Resources Manager, University of Teddington

Tombasin uttu!

My Sven not at school. I see Josh and Cressida who smiles at me. ‘We had a lovely time at Bella and Tom’s,’ she say. ‘It was so nice to sample one of your national dishes - and there’s everyone thinking you only did beetroot.’

Mrs Awale asks if I is having a depression. She ask if I want to come back to where she live and before I know it we are on bus to Finsbury Park. Hers is small flat up many stairs where you not even think there is a room. I see she embarrassed for me to see that she does not have many things but in my experience most English has too much and at least there is plenty charity shops to give all their horrid things.

She make me cup of tea and put arm around me. I see photo on her table. Is nice-looking man with big smile. She say is her husband. ‘Is he out at work?’ I say. She look at photo and tell me he not, he dead. He killed in Somalia by rebel people who want to take over government. She not even know where he buried. Is why she and Ahmed must leave their country fast-like.

I put arm around her now. We is both doing our boo-hooing together, except she only do little cry and she ask me if I am alright. I say it is nothing and she give me another cup of tea. I say we is being like English people who is drinking the tea when they is too embarrassed to say what they really meaning. She say I am trying to be like English person and we both laughing.

I not telling her that I escape from my country too. I not telling her I leave letter for my mother on table to say I go to America with dream of making career in fast-food so she not know where I am. She want me to marry Arvo Pitkin. I not care if he big in fridge magnet business and has loft apartment in downtown Tallinn. He forty years old and big in stomach too, with hairy bits in all places except the head. Is not surprising I run away.Tombasin uttu!