Free Planet Janet by Dyan Sheldon Page B

“things” she was talking about but she definitely had my attention. Sappho put on her best professor of women’s studies voice and said, “Mrs Bandry, are you saying you’ve never had an orgasm?” This is not a word I’ve ever heard spoken aloud in our kitchen before. (In fact, I reckon it’s not something that’s happened very often in our house. If ever. The only sounds I’ve ever heard from the parents at night are either arguments or Sigmund’s snores.) I wasn’t alone. The Mad Cow spat the biscuit she was chewing right across the table. I thought she was going to choke to death. Mags asked if anybody wanted more tea.

SUNDAY 4 FEBRUARY
    To tell you the truth, I forgot all about Mr Kipling until this morning when I went to the kitchen for my breakfast and found Nan weeping and wailing in a v major way because she couldn’t find her cat (and this from a woman who was apparently trained to disembowel Nazis – I ask you, does that make sense?). The MC was gnashing her teeth. I acted v surprised when they told me what’d happened. I said I remembered seeing Mr Kipling last night so he must be somewhere, but this didn’t have the desired effect of chilling them out until I could sneak into the garden and get him. Instead, the MC made us all look for the fat lump. She even had me crawling under the furniture. (You should see the dust and cobwebs! All I can say is I hope the MC’s a better teacher than she is a housekeeper or the youth of Britain’s REALLY in trouble.) I gave up when I broke a nail. I said unless he’d gone under the floorboards Mr Kipling wasn’t in the flat. I said maybe he’d got out. Justin’s always leaving the door open after all. I volunteered to search the garden. I reckoned I was in for a lot of positive reinforcement and maybe even a bit of cash when I returned with Mr Kipling purring in my arms. Which I would’ve done, if I’d been able to find him. But he wasn’t in the garden. Cats are really contrary, aren’t they? All these years I’ve never seen Mr Kipling jump higher than the kitchen counter, and all of a sudden he’s leaping over the garden wall like Supercat.
    Disha and I went to Camden Market this afternoon. I got my nose pierced! I’ve been thinking about it for EONS and today I just went for it. Never mind the pain or possible disfigurement. (Even Catriona Hendley doesn’t have her nose pierced!) Disha isn’t sure how she feels about self-mutilation, so she just got two more holes put in each ear. We spent hours wandering around the market. It was well cool (aside from all the wicked clothes, we saw someone throwing up outside a pub, and someone else being dragged off by the police). I bought this Chinese skirt and these really cheap wind chimes (they’re meant to be very calming, and with Nan in the flat I need all the calm I can get, so I bought three). Disha left me on my own while she went to get some fried noodles since I’m back on my diet today. Even though I don’t eat ANYTHING now that I’m a vegetarian I seem to have gained two pounds! (D says if crisps were made of pork I’d be all right.) Anyway, I was looking at the bowls on one of the stalls when the bloke said to me, “So what do you like?” I said I thought the blue fish bowl was nice, and he said that wasn’t what he meant. I don’t know why I always smile when someone says something I don’t understand, but that’s what I do. He smiled back. “Well?” he said. “Es … weed…? Maybe a hip girl like you wants something a little more exotic…?” I couldn’t believe it! It must be the nose ring. No adult has ever tried to sell me drugs before. Disha was furious that she missed it!
    The only member of my family who noticed my nose ring was Nan. She thought I’d joined a pagan cult. She said she’d always known something like this would happen. Sigmund told her to put a sock in it; it was only a ring. And then all of a sudden Justin decided to join in. He wanted to know if I