I wrote to Grampar. When I next have some money I’ll buy him a get well card. I told him about my marks (boringly top in everything except maths as usual) and about the weather. I wrote to Daniel, mostly about Imperial Earth and The Shockwave Rider, but mentioning the Garner. I wish he’d give me pocket money like most of the girls get, and then I’d know how much I was going to get. I also wrote to Auntie Teg about the bra problem, very carefully not asking for money, in fact saying specifically not to send any, because that wouldn’t be fair, just wanting to know how the sizing works. There’s a number and a letter. I suppose I could ask Deirdre, or even Gill, but I’d rather not.
No buns today.
TUESDAY 20TH NOVEMBER 1979
Parcel from Daniel this morning, with Clifford Simak’s City and Frank Herbert’s Dune, neither of which look all that immediately appealing. It’s so great having plenty to read. Also, another ten pounds. I don’t know, if he’s going to send me ten pounds every time I mention wanting to buy a book I suppose it’s good, but it’s very unreliable. I talked to Deirdre about this, though it was hard to get her to open up, as money, and pocket money, is one of those taboo subjects which you’re supposed to talk about in oblique ways. But when she did start to talk, I could hardly shut her up.
“I get two pounds whenever we come back here. My mother says I don’t need any money because it’s all provided, but that’s daft. I know you’ve noticed I’m always borrowing your soap. There’s soap and shampoo and all that, and if you want anything at all at the tuck shop, even an apple. And if you don’t buy buns ever, everyone says you’re mean, or worse, knows you’re poor and patronizes you. Karen bought me a bun last term and said ‘I know you won’t be able to pay me back, but don’t worry about that at all’ in such a smarmy way. So I bought buns the first week after half term.”
I had noticed, because she bought me one too. “You don’t have to buy me a bun back, really,” I said. “Though of course it’s nice to have one.”
“Most of the girls have a pound every week, or even two pounds, some of them. I don’t know how they’ll manage if they ever really do change the pound notes to coins, because they send it in letters. Nobody talks about exactly how much they get, because it’s vulgar to mention specifics about money.”
Vulgar to mention specifics about money, but what kind of car your father has and what job he has and what kind of house and what kind of fur coat your mother has are common topics of conversation. I didn’t even know there were different kinds, let alone which are good. The first time they asked me I said fox, just at random, which seems to be plausible, though Josie asked me if I meant silver fox or just plain red fox. It was so obvious from the framing of her question that silver fox was good that I didn’t hesitate. Of course, my mother doesn’t have a fur coat at all, and if she did she’d probably torture the poor thing. Anyway, I think fur is wrong, and I said so. I said I’m never going to have a fur coat, not ever, because it’s wrong to kill animals just for the fur. I’m not a vegetarian, I think it’s all right to kill animals to eat them, because that’s different. They’d do that to us. There’s no need for us to take their fur just to show off.
There are five school weeks until Christmas, so if I divide this ten pounds into two pounds a week that would work pretty well. Though I might anticipate on it to buy a bra this weekend, because now I’ve noticed that I have breasts I can’t seem to stop noticing them, and it would be nice to have a harness to get them out of the way.
WEDNESDAY 21ST NOVEMBER 1979
Letter.
I didn’t open it, but just touching it seemed to bring on the pain in my leg, it’s been very bad indeed today.
This morning I finished Up the Line as I was sitting here, and I didn’t have anything else with me, so I was going to get something off the shelf. Miss Carroll was bustling about shelving a consignment of new books that had come in, mostly in nonfiction, and I was sitting in my usual corner, where I have panelling on two sides and a bookshelf in front of me. Sometimes I sit one seat along, where I can see out of the window, but there’s nothing worth seeing today, grey sky and bare branches and endless rain.