And Baby Makes Two - Dyan Sheldon [9]
As usual, the preachers didn’t exactly agree with me.
“You’re bright enough,” Mrs Mela, my English teacher, informed me one afternoon, “but you just don’t seem to want to make any effort at all any more.”
That’s why Mrs Mela had made me stay behind. Because I didn’t make any effort at all any more. She’d caught me passing notes to my friend Amie while she was reading us Romeo and Juliet. Again.
Thing was, I really didn’t want to make any effort just then. I was meeting Les for tea before he went on his shift. Who wants to discuss their lack of interest in English when they’ve got a date? I stared through the window behind her, as if I was listening and thinking deeply about what she said.
Mrs Mela sighed. She sounded just like Hilary Spiggs.
“Lana,” said Mrs Mela in her user-friendly voice, “what’s going to happen to you if you keep this up? You haven’t done your homework in weeks. You disrupt the rest of the class…” She gave another heartfelt sigh. “I’m very, very concerned.”
I flashed her one of my best smiles. “There’s nothing to be concerned about,” I assured her. “I understand what you’re saying, but you’re wrong. I’m fine.”
Mrs Mela cleared her throat. “And what about your future?” she wanted to know. “What are you going to do with your life? At the rate you’re going, you’ll be lucky to pass half your GCSEs.”
Now she really sounded like my mother.
So I told her the same thing I told my mother and everybody else, so they’d shut up and leave me alone.
“I reckon I’ll become an actress. I really like drama.”
Actually, acting was the one job I thought would really suit me. You make lots of money, you go to lots of parties and you don’t need any qualifications, you just turn up for auditions. What could be easier? You don’t even have to go to acting school, if you don’t want to. Scads of famous stars were discovered just walking down the street.
“I believe the correct term is ‘actor’ for both sexes nowadays,” said Mrs Mela. “And as far as your love of drama goes, Lana, Shakespeare is drama, but you don’t seem to like him very much.”
That’s the thing I’ve always found with preachers, they twist your words to suit themselves.
“I meant like films,” I explained. “You know, like Titanic. Or musicals.” Musicals were starting to interest me a lot. I’d watched at least six since I met Les. “Everyone says I have a really good voice.”
“You need more than a good voice to get on in this world,” said Mrs Mela. “You need to work hard and get proper qualifications.”
Mrs Mela had two university degrees, plus a teaching degree. If I was an underachiever, she was an overachiever. Fancy going to school for twenty years just to teach English to a load of kids who’d rather be at home watching telly.
I readjusted my school bag over my shoulder. “So, is that all?” I prepared for flight. “It’s just that I have to get home. My mum’s got the flu.”
I got the feeling from the way Mrs Mela frowned at me that my mum had had the flu before. Probably recently.
“How old are you?” asked Mrs Mela. “Fifteen?”
You didn’t need a university degree to guess that, either. I was in Year Ten, wasn’t I?
I nodded.
“Fifteen’s old enough to start taking things seriously,” said Mrs Mela. She smiled hopefully. “With a little effort on your part, this year could see your attitude mature a little more.”
“I’ll try,” I lied. “I’m sure it will.”
I couldn’t see how much more mature she expected my attitude to get. Only one more year and I’d be out of school for good.
My best friend, Shanee Tyler, was the complete opposite of me.
Shanee was small, dark, quiet and plain as a wholemeal digestive. I was into fashion, but Shanee couldn’t tell DKNY from CK. Plus, her