at the newsagent tonight when I was getting the paper. They said Peter was out of fashion for a while but made a comeback when âPeter Panâ was published. Somehow I donât think my Peter would have much in common with Peter Pan. Wasnât Peter Pan the boy who never grew up? Peter Fallon-Whiteâs grown up, thatâs one thing I can vouch for.
We had a breezy time. He came to lunch and did a good suction job on Mum, then we walked down to the beach and sat there and talkedâand a few other things. Then we went to the shops, then he had to go. I miss him. I missed him from the moment he got on the bus. Iâve rung him tonight alreadyâcanât wait till tomorrow when we can talk againâheâs ringing me.
M AY 20
Itâs nearly the end of the holidays and my secret mission has failed so far. I wasnât going to write about it in here but Iâve changed my mind. I want this to be a true record of the year, so when Iâm an old grandmother (Mrs Fallon-White?) I can read it and see what I was really like, what I was thinking about and feeling.
Four times these holidays (today was the fourth) Iâve taken a no. 8 bus (no. 18 from Dadâs flat) to Mercer, and sat in the milk bar diagonally opposite 61 Dobson Road, and taken as long as mortally possible to eat a sandwich and drink a coffee, while I watched, hoping to see them. I saw Mrs Aston once, going in, but no sign of Miranda. Iâd recognise her if I saw her.
Itâs frustrating that I donât know the truth about Mrs Aston and Dad. I just want to know. I think Iâd know if I saw Miranda.
Now Iâll have to make sure I hide this Journal extra well for the rest of the holidays. Mumâd be so upset if she found Iâd been there, looking for them.
M AY 21
Went to Peterâs tonight for dinner. His father drove me back here a few minutes ago. I had a great time! Itâs a funny old house but really sweet. And his parents were funnyâthey had about six arguments while I was there, but no-one seemed too worried.
Peterâs father used to be in the Navy. Heâs older than the fathers of most kids my age but heâs a cool guy. He calls everyone âdarlingââhis wife, Peter, me, the dog, the cat. He looks like a Norwegian sailing captainâfluffy white hair and red cheeks. He dresses like an out-of-work gardenerâone of the arguments was about his not getting changed for dinner.
Mrs Fallon-Whiteâs tall, but with this great face, great bone structure as my mum would say. Iâd love to photograph her, or paint her. Sheâs very calmâPeter says she meditates and does Yoga and stuff. Sheâs got a notice in the kitchen above the phone, that says, âThe greatest risk is to take no risk.â I like that! Thatâs my philosophy! Iâll have to remember it next term when Mrs Graham stands there draped in jewellery, telling us we canât wear earrings, and a little voice inside me is saying, âPut your hand up and ask her why.â
M AY 22
We all go back to school tomorrow but Edward and Will went home today to get their stuff. For some stupid reason we ended up playing Monopoly all morning before they left. It was so dumb, one of those games that go on forever. By the time we gave up Will had about twenty million dollars, and Edward was about twenty million in debt, and I was even. Willâs so annoying when heâs winning thoughâI nearly rammed his hotels, cards and money down his mouth a few times. But we had some laughs.
M AY 25
I am so stressed out. This Basketball is the biggest mess Iâve ever seen. Itâs so different from rowing, where it was all super-organised. Weâre meant to have a team for Saturday; weâve had two practices, one of which was a joke, and at the end of todayâs practice Dr Thorley told me to pick a team and put it on the board by 9 am tomorrow. I donât think she realises
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia