My Dating Disasters Diary (25 page)

I was relieved that he wasn't going to go mental at me
like the nun had. He was smiling and seemed genuinely
interested in my views, so I said, 'Well, yeah, there are a
few things actually. Like the God thing.'

'The God thing?'

'Yeah, like, you know how people say there really
must be a God because life and the universe couldn't just
sort of spring out of nothing? So God must have created
everything?'

'Yes.'

'Well, you've still got the same problem really, haven't
you, because, well, who made God then?'

'An interesting question.'

'Yeah, and then there's the heaven and hell thing. Well,
it's a bit mental really, isn't it? Hope so anyway, as I've
never been to Mass. And I'm not even really sure about
the life-after-death stuff . . .'

I paused, thinking maybe I'd said too much. A holy
person like a priest might think I was being really cheeky
and get mad at me.

Father O'Reilly was staring at me but he didn't have
an annoyed expression. In fact, if anything, he looked as
though he was trying to stop laughing, so hopefully I
wasn't in trouble.

He said, 'So go on now, Kelly Ann. You were talking
about the, er, life-after-death stuff?'

'Yeah, well, maybe there isn't anything afterwards,
you know – kinda like it was before you're born.'

'I see,' Father Reilly said. 'It would appear you are
struggling with a number of issues of Catholic doctrine
that are, shall we say, not too trivial. Perhaps Sister Mary
Benedicta isn't quite the right guide for you at this particular
period of your, er, spiritual journey, shall we say.'

'Don't think this
school
is right, Father. And I'm a
Rangers supporter too. I just don't fit in. Can't I go back
to my old school? I don't think the head's so mad at me
any more.'

He paused, considering what I'd said, and I waited,
desperately hoping he'd say yes. But he didn't.

'I don't believe you could make another placing
request so soon. Not unless you were expelled of course.

No, you've just got off to a bad start, Kelly Ann. Things will
settle down fine soon. You have to be patient. Give it time.'

Instead of telephoning, Chris came over tonight to see
how I was getting on. At first I just said, 'Yeah, OK, fine,'
but face to face there was no way I could convince him I
was OK and soon I was blubbing out the truth to him.

'I hate it there, Chris. Nobody likes me. I . . . I've got
no friends. I just don't fit in.'

At first he tried to soothe me like the priest had. 'You
just got off to a bad start, Kelly Ann. Give it time. I'm sure
people will realize you're OK eventually – you'll make
loads of friends.'

'I won't. Nobody wants to get to know me except
Bernadette, who's the saddest person in the whole school
and just makes it even worse.'

Chris argued with me for a while, but then gobsmacked
me by saying, 'OK, look, Kelly Ann, if that's the
way you feel about it, then I'll come and join you. That
way you'll have at least one friend there. You won't have
to eat in the toilet any more.'

Oh God, it would have been so fantastic to have Chris
with me. 'But how could you do that?'

'I'll ask my parents to arrange it. Make a placing
request.'

'They wouldn't do that. You get on fine at our
school.'

'They will. If not, I'll get myself expelled, then they'll
have to.'

I looked at Chris's determined expression. He meant it.
And he'd do it. There wasn't anyone as stubborn as Chris
once he'd made up his mind.

Found myself getting a bit tearful again. Chris was the
best friend anyone could have. But I couldn't let him
change schools just for me. However, he'd given me an
idea.

Thought back to what the priest had said this morning.
That the region were unlikely to agree to another transfer
so soon
unless I was expelled
.

Yeah, that was it. All I had to do was get myself
expelled. Should be easy enough – and, yeah, might even
be fun.

RE first thing. I've been removed from Sister Mary
Benedicta's class and put into another RE class. The
teacher seemed quite nice and normal; she's really a
maths teacher but all the Catholic teachers have to take an
RE class. She just told us to get on with any homework we
might have or chat quietly amongst ourselves while she
did some marking. Seems this is what she does every RE
period.

It's a pity she was nice because I needed to cause
trouble to get expelled. Oh well.

I shouted out. 'Religion's rubbish!'

She said, 'We're all entitled to our opinion, Kelly Ann.
Haven't you got any homework to finish off?'

'Total crap.'

'How about a book to read? Why don't you go off to
the library and see if there's anything you like there?'

Tried a few more times after that but still couldn't get her
annoyed. Decided I'd have to pick on a teacher who wasn't so nice and laid
back.

Art next. We were meant to be painting a bowl of fruit.
Instead, I graffiti'd ART SUCKS on my desk in jagged
blood-red letters.

Art teacher said my work was amazing. 'Raw, powerful,
totally original'. I had 'passion' and 'soul'.

Bloody hell, it was going to be a lot more difficult to get
expelled from this school than I thought.

English. Took out a packet of fags I'd nicked from Mum's
stash in the morning and lit up. God, it was
so
disgusting.
How could anyone actually like these things? Even
though I didn't inhale and just puffed the smoke out, I
nearly choked. Teacher said, 'Put that out at once.'

This was more like it. Instead, I flicked some ash on the
floor, then swung back on my chair and put my feet on
my desk. Looking her straight in the eye, I took a Bacardi
bottle (an empty one of Mum's that I'd filled with water
this morning) from my bag and swigged it.

'Right, that's it. Go to the head teacher's office immediately
and wait there while I write out a referral about
your outrageous behaviour.'

Yeah. At last.

Waited half an hour before Mrs McKind, the guidance
teacher, came and ushered me into the head's office.

He and Mrs McKind couldn't have been nicer. Young people like
me with addictions would receive understanding, counselling and support. I
needn't worry that I'd be condemned or abandoned, far less expelled. They
were an enlightened school at the forefront of the substance abuse programmes
(SAPs) initiative. Meanwhile I was to go see Father O'Reilly for spiritual
guidance to overcome my problems.

Father O'Reilly wasn't visiting the school until the afternoon,
and then he needed to discuss things with the head
teacher first, so it was nearly home time when he finally
talked to me in the RE base.

He said, 'Now tell me, Kelly Ann, do you really have a
problem with the demon drink and are you addicted to
the vile tobacco weed?'

I looked at my toes. 'No, Father.'

'So correct me if I'm wrong here, but this was a ploy to
get yourself expelled. Right?'

I nodded.

'Well now, you'll be pleased to hear that after our discussion
yesterday, I've been in touch with Mr Menzies
and talked to our own head and we've agreed to a kind of
prisoner exchange.'

'Sorry?'

'We'll take back Mick McKenzie, one of our poor disadvantaged
thieving, lying – well, never you mind – ex
pupils, in exchange for your good self. We'll have another
go at putting the fear of God in him. And I plan to do
more than give the disadvantaged wee bug – er, soul
more than three Hail Marys and an Our Father for his
sins.'

'Oh my God, I can go back to my old school? Really?
Thanks, Father.'

'Och, you're welcome, Kelly Ann. You've given me a
good laugh, so you have. But we'll have to OK it with
your parents. Your mother having been so keen to make a
good Catholic out of you and all.'

'Father, if every priest were like you I'd definitely want
to be a Catholic.'

Father O'Reilly smiled at me. 'Ah, but you have to like
the song as well as the singer, Kelly Ann.'

Not sure what he meant by that but asked him,
'Do you believe in any of it, Father? Religion and
stuff?'

He was silent for quite a long time. I suppose he was
surprised by my question – which, when I thought about
it, was a really stupid thing to ask a priest.

But then he said, 'Ah now, Kelly Ann, that's a deep
theological question you're asking, especially so near
home time, but I'll tell you one thing.' He paused and
fixed me with a serious gaze. 'I believe Celtic will wallop
the bejesus out of Rangers next Saturday.'

I'm leaving today and, though I can't wait to get back to
my old school, have discovered that I'm now suddenly
very popular. Seems everyone was well impressed by my
rebel behaviour and wants to hang out with me. Maybe I
would have got on OK here after all.

Loads of people wanted to spend lunch time with me
today but I decided to go and see Bernadette in the toilets.
This time, after knocking, I went inside her cubicle
instead of sitting in the one beside her.

'I'll really miss you, Kelly Ann.'

'Yeah, well, I'll miss you too, sort of,' I lied. 'Here.' I
handed her a roast beef sandwich I'd prepared this morning
and two fairy cakes I'd baked from a mix last night. 'I
know it's not your birthday but I thought you'd like
these.'

Her eyes teared up. 'Oh, thank you, Kelly Ann. That's
so nice of you. You're the best friend I've ever had.'

'Oh God, please don't say that, Bernadette.'

'It's true.' She sniffed. 'I've got something for you too.'
She took an envelope from her bag and handed it to me.

I opened it. For a moment I couldn't speak. It was two
tickets for the Smashed concert.

'Where . . . where . . . I mean, how did you get these?
Are they real?'

'Oh, I'm always getting tickets to Jason's concerts but I
never use them. Not really interested in music.'

'How come? I mean, these are, like, totally impossible
to get hold of.'

'He's my cousin. You won't tell anyone, will you?'

'Your cousin? Yeah, right.' Maybe all the lonely lunch
times in the toilet had turned her a bit bonkers.

'Knew you wouldn't believe me.' She took a photograph
from her blazer pocket and handed it to me. I
stared at it. And stared at it. It was a photograph of her
and Jason. Both of them looked younger – she was maybe
ten – but it was definitely Jason and he had his arm
around her shoulders. Oh my God.

'His real name's Sean,' she said, 'but he's told even
family to call him Jason now. He chose Jason because he
was a Greek hero but I don't think it goes with Donnelly,
do you? He should maybe have changed that too.'

'But, but . . . I mean, bloody hell, if he's your cousin,
why didn't you tell everyone? Most people would. It's,
like, so totally cool. You'd be the most popular girl in the
school.'

She shrugged. 'Don't know. I'm scared people would
expect me to be more interesting and exciting if they
knew we were related. And, well, I don't want people
pretending to be my friend just so they can get to meet
him.'

'Meet Jason!'

'Yeah. I could tell Jason you'd like to see him after the
show if you want. You want me to?'

Would I? Oh my God. Threw my arms round
Bernadette and hugged her. Unfortunately this was
witnessed by a crowd of third-year girls who'd just come
in. Hmm, yeah, maybe it's lucky I'm leaving tomorrow.

Was so happy to see my own school this morning I nearly
kissed the gates but contented myself instead with
grinning at Mr Smith, who was waiting to issue
detentions to latecomers. He gave me a punishment
exercise for 'dumb insolence' but I didn't care.

Later double maths was just as boring as I remembered
it; then, in English, Mrs Conner droned on for an
hour about feminist writers. Loved it all.

And even Shelly . . . Well, no, I wasn't happy to see Shelly
again, but still, I was 'home' with all my old friends and didn't need to
eat lunch in the toilets. Bliss.

Mrs Conner has decided, at the very last minute, to do the
school pantomime this year, after having initially vetoed
the idea. But there isn't much time now and it will be all
hands to the pump to get us ready. Also, we'll just be performing
to fellow pupils and not parents or anything.

She said we could use most of the same costumes and
sets from the year before last. She'd decide on casting
tomorrow.

Hope I'm not the back end of a cow again.

Don't believe it! Mrs Conner has given me the star part as
Cinderella. She must actually think I have real acting
potential. Wait till I tell Jason about this. Maybe both of us
will be famous one day. Hope our glittering careers don't
come between us.

Shelly was furious. She confronted Mrs Conner. 'Kelly
Ann as Cinderella is ridiculous. The heroine has to be the
nicest-looking girl and, let's face it, she just
so
isn't.'

Mrs Conner gave her a cold look. 'I suppose you
imagine that role belongs to you, but Beauty, they say, is
in the eye of the beholder. That is to say, subjective. The
size of one's feet, however, are not, and each of yours
could fill a small canoe. Quite inappropriate for
Cinderella.'

Everyone except Shelly and her friends started to
laugh. Shelly flushed scarlet. 'Well, I'm not going to be an
Ugly Sister – don't care what you say.'

'Of course not, Shelly,' Mrs Conner said calmly. 'Such
a part would be quite unsuitable for you.'

Shelly seemed a bit happier with that and the angry
red colour of her face began to fade until Mrs Conner continued,
'The Ugly Sisters are speaking parts and your
acting ability is quite inadequate to the task. Instead, you
will be the pumpkin. A much more appropriate
role.'

Mrs Conner's gaze swept the class. 'Now then, does
anyone else have a problem with my casting decisions?'

Nobody did.

We got to try on our costumes for the play after school
today. My Cinderella rags costume is really nice. A black
top and short flared skirt with a cool jagged hem. Much
nicer than the naff pink ballroom dress with puffed
sleeves and ballooning skirt.

Still, I didn't complain, especially when I saw Shelly's
outfit – orange tights and a huge cardboard pumpkin the
size of a small room with holes for her head and legs. Hee
hee.

Has just occurred to me that Jason is probably a Catholic
if he's Bernadette 's cousin and once went to St Ann's. Am
concerned that this might cause a problem for our future
relationship as I've heard the Catholic Church can get
awkward about stuff like this.

I mean, just suppose when I meet Jason after the
concert he likes me so much that we become really
good friends. He'll call and email me when he's on
tour abroad and give me and my friends free tickets to
all his gigs in the UK. Gradually, over time, his feelings
will deepen until he realizes that he actually loves me
and we get engaged. We plan a huge celebrity wedding
then,
wham
, just as we're about to take our vows the
priest says: 'And just where is your baptismal certificate,
Kelly Ann? Sorry, but if you're not a Catholic, that's it
I'm afraid.'

Thought about contacting the Pope and asking him
but reckoned he might be too busy praying, running the
Vatican and looking after billions of Catholics to answer
me before the concert.

Decided the bishop would do instead. Looked up his
number and called but it was answered by an
administrator person who said the bishop was saying
Mass and did I want to leave a message?

Saying Mass on a Thursday? He was probably just trying
to put me off. Told him I needed to speak personally
to the bishop and it was urgent, so could he ask him to
just come to the phone right away? It should only take a
minute.

But the administrator person got really annoyed with
me. He refused to interrupt the bishop and told me quite
snootily that I would need to call back and wouldn't be
able to speak personally with the bishop until I'd told him
what it was about.

Put the phone down. There was no way I was
discussing personal business with some nosy secretary
person.

Found an American Catholic website called askabishop.com,
where you could email questions to bishops who weren't
too stuck up to deal with normal people.

To: Bishop
From: Kelly Ann
Subject: Marriage

Dear Bishop(s)

I am very much in love with a Catholic boy but am not
one myself (Catholic). I hope that you are not the
narrow-minded bigots some people say you are and
that it would be OK for us to get married. Please let
me know ASAP.

Thanks

Kelly Ann

Got an answer:

Dear Kelly Ann

Thank you very much for your enquiry. I just
wondered whether

1. you are both over sixteen

2. this boy actually wants to marry you.

The Catholic Church, for moral and legal reasons,
cannot of course condone underage or forced
marriage. If you could reply to these questions we
would be happy to provide you with further information
regarding inter-faith marriage.

So annoying. Why do they need to ask nosy questions
instead of just responding to my polite enquiry? Hmm.
Obviously they are all narrow-minded bigots intent on
spoiling young people's happiness. I'm sure Jason won't
let them interfere with our relationship.

Will see Jason tomorrow. In the flesh. It's really going to
happen. Oh my God!