Letters to a Princess (12 page)

‘I want to but I don’t think I’ll be good company,’ I told Zoë. I was losing my nerve and had already half-decided it’d be easier to stay at home.

‘Think of all the times Princess Di wouldn’t have wanted to go out but had to,’ Zoë said.

‘Mmm.’

‘And what about your new hairdo, Di, don’t waste that! You can’t!’

I laughed despite myself and agreed. ‘Well, if it wasn’t for the hairdo … I’m so nervous about Seb. I don’t know what to say to him.’

‘You’ll be fine,’ she said, obviously pleased. ‘He’s a bit of a spunk in a nerdy sort of way.’

‘Thanks a lot!’

Look, don’t get me wrong, I like him a lot. But he’s a bit on the quiet side for me. That’ll make it easier for you though, Di. It should be a great night!’

It was a terrible night from start to finish. As I brushed my Diana look-alike hairdo, I knew that at that very moment
she
was being borne on a gun carriage through the morning streets of London. The mourning streets, I corrected myself.

I was tempted to turn on the TV to watch but then I’d never go to the dance. So I stood in front of the mirror trying to distract myself. My skirt looked good. But maybe I was not really thin enough. Then again, my arms didn’t look that great, too stick-like by far. I should change the top.

Zoë, Jason and Seb were coming to pick me up in their friend Andrew’s car. I was still fussing at the mirror when the doorbell rang. Thank God Marcus wasn’t home to stuff it all up for me. I opened the door expecting to see Seb, but it was Zoë.

‘You look great!’ she said hugging me. ‘He’s in the car—they’re talking boy stuff!’

Seb said hello shyly when I got into the car but then he sat as far away from me as he could all the way to the dance. I actually saw him yawn a few times which made me feel absolutely fabulous! Zoë, Jason and Andrew were chatting non-stop and didn’t notice our silence. Seb seemed awkward and nervous when we got out of the car and he walked closer to Jason and Zoë than to me.

‘Hang back,’ Zoë whispered from the corner of her mouth, anxious to get us together. But I just couldn’t. It would be easy enough for him to catch up with me. We walked in through the old school gates. My stomach was churning because it seemed like Seb was really unhappy about being there with me. Not nervous, as I was about being with him, just bored and unhappy. Had he asked me as a favour to Zoë? But she had been just as surprised as I was about his invitation.

At the door he was suddenly by my side. He seemed awkward as he put his arm around my waist, kind of ushering me into the hall. He didn’t say a word and he wasn’t smiling. Maybe he was nervous. Oh hell! Whatever—it wasn’t helping me at all! I felt faint.

I was grateful for the dim lights and the throbbing music and I lost myself for an hour or so while we danced. In all that time, even though we remained close on the floor, Seb didn’t attempt to touch me again. When a slow song came on we went outside. He walked down the verandah steps and out into the blackness of the school grounds. I didn’t know whether I should follow or just let him go. Maybe he was meeting someone else out there? I found myself clutching my
hands together like a little kid on their first day at school. How could I be cool about this? I just wanted to run away!

But then Seb turned back and motioned me towards him. We sat on an old wooden garden seat. I could tell that Seb was nervous too. There were beads of sweat glistening on his forehead and his hands were trembling. I felt a rush of sympathy for him.

‘Seb, thanks for asking me to the dance …’

‘Been a bit of a disappointment, eh?’ he said. ‘The second band didn’t turn up.’ I didn’t care in the least that the band hadn’t showed up, but I nodded anyway.

‘Here, have some,’ he said, taking out a hip flask. I gulped the fiery liquid, not even asking what it was. I was so confused, relieved, scared. All kinds of thoughts were running through my head. And I kept seeing Princess Di’s face. Should I say something about the funeral? No, it wasn’t the time or place.

We shared the flask in silence. As I sipped, things became less clear, and somehow more pleasant.

‘Diana.’ Seb sat up straight and his voice came out raspy; almost frightened. He was digging his hands into the hard wooden seat.

‘I’m sorry about all this …’

‘Oh, don’t worry. I don’t care about the band one bit,’ I said, trying not to slur my words. I was feeling woozy.

‘No, not about the band, about asking you to come with me tonight.’

My heart skipped a beat and within a second I felt horribly sober.

‘Asking me?’ What d’you mean, asking me?’

‘It was a dare!’ He couldn’t look at me. ‘And I needed to tell you that because I feel like a fool …’

I should have known. Some guys Marcus knew had pulled the same cruel trick. They call it Dog Dare. You ask a nerdy girl out and you get points from the group if she agrees, and even more points if you kiss her. You were a hero for a day and had first use of the basketball courts. Everyone in the year thought it was a hoot until some teachers cottoned on and put a stop to it. ‘Trust Year 9 losers!’ Marcus had commented when the whole thing came out.

Why hadn’t I caught on that the older boys were probably just as cruel and were perfectly capable of setting up the same sort of thing? That even with my expensive blonde streaks and the tight black skirt on my thin, but not thin enough, body that I was still a nerd to everyone? A laughing stock. Maybe everyone at the dance knew and had been giving me pitying looks but I hadn’t noticed.

‘Oh Jesus!’ I said gazing up into the black sky. ‘Oh Jesus! Jesus!’ and I wasn’t saying it in the way that Martin did.

Seb grabbed my hand but I wrenched it away.

I knew Zoë had no idea about it, but Jason and Andrew had looked at me in a funny way, hadn’t they? They must have known. And the entire group at the dance who’d made a point of coming up and saying hello to Seb, they must have known. And tomorrow the whole school would know and then Marcus would know. And it would be unbearable. I couldn’t face them.
I wouldn’t. I couldn’t even face Seb. There was a long silence. And then out of the blue I started laughing. It was the weirdest thing because I had no control over it.

Harsh laughter spilled out across the grass, laughter that seemed louder than the music inside the hall. Seb got really upset then and jumped to his feet.

‘What is it?’ he asked, ‘What’s wrong with you?’ I suppose he was scared I would get hysterical.

‘I’m happy as a pig in mud,’ I said, using one of Babs’s favourite phrases.

‘No, a dog in mud …’ and I wiped away my tears of laughter.

‘It wasn’t that kind of dare! No, you’ve got me wrong, Diana—it wasn’t like that at all.’ But I didn’t care if it was a Dog Dare or any other dare. He’d asked me against his will. That’s all I needed to know. And really, it didn’t matter a damn. I knew what I was going to do. In a flash it had come to me. I stood up so I was face-to-face with him.

‘Please Diana, if you want to know the truth—I do like you but I had this talk with some of the guys and we all …’

I knew what I was going to do. I knew! I no longer cared what Seb was trying to say or what the others thought. Tears of relief welled up in my eyes. I turned away from Seb Johnson, and from all of them, and I began walking towards the gates. Seb followed, talking all the way. For a while he stayed beside me, kind of pleading as I walked fast up the street.

‘You’re a bit drunk, you know, Diana. You can’t go home by yourself. Hey, wait just a minute will you!’

Finally, I couldn’t hear his voice anymore and I knew he must have turned back. I didn’t care because I was gloriously clear-headed. Suddenly I was alone and there was a light rain falling and it felt wonderful because I knew how I would solve everything. I stood at the crossroads waiting for the lights to change. Tonight I would be Queen of the Night!

The thought filled me with purpose despite my whirling head, and I sped along the dark streets towards my home. Not my home since Mum had gone, not really. And now not to be my home ever again. I’d return one last time. I planned it all as I kept on through the rain and I felt more steady and sure than I ever had before. When the clouds parted for a moment, revealing a sickly moon, I nodded as if it were revealing itself just for me. ‘Go on, do it. Get it over.’ I walked on.

I knew exactly where Graham hid his sleeping tablets. I’d thought about that bottle of pills more than once since Marcus had first waved them in front of me. ‘Just in case you ever need them, Ugly,’ he’d taunted. ‘I’ll show you just where the old man keeps his sleepers. You just never know when you might want a good, long sleep!’ This was after a terrible fight that had raged for days. Something about his bike. Reckoned I’d done something to it.

No-one would be home. I’d go straight into Graham’s room and reach down behind the bedside table and get the whole bottle of pills. I’d go to the fridge and take a few cans of his Coke. I’d take money from my own
room—I still had a bit even after the hairdresser’s bill—and
The Diana Papers
but that’s all. No way would that lot ever see the contents of my folder.

I was going to find a cab up on the main road to take me all the way to Bondi Beach. I’d go to Zoë’s secret cave around Ben Buckler. We called it our sleepover cave because Zoë always talked about staying there overnight. But we’d never quite had the guts to do it. The cave would be just the right place.

I’d find my way slipping and sliding over rocks, with the surf roaring close by. I’d take the tablets with gulps of Coke I’d write a goodbye note to Zoë and Babs and Tatania, of course. And I’d go to sleep. And nobody would know where to find me. Well, maybe Zoë would think of the cave, but it would take her at least a week. And by then it’d be too late. Too, too late.

I’ll be with Mum, I thought and with my lovely Princess Diana. With both of you—if you’ll have me. Together, forever, in a place where no-one will ever be able to hurt us again.

No-one could hurt me ever again. I was ecstatically happy, even though I was crying as I made my way home.

What I hadn’t counted on was Princess Diana’s funeral procession!

I couldn’t believe it. Marcus and Graham were at home! I could hear the TV as I came up the driveway. I panicked when I realised they were both watching Princess Diana’s funeral, but I was already in the front door by then.

‘That you, Diana?’ Graham called out and I made my voice sound as normal as I could.

‘Yeah, it’s me,’ I answered, trying to slip by. My head was still a bit whirly and my tongue felt thick, but I must have sounded all right.

‘You should come in here and watch this.’

I paused at the door. The loungeroom was hot and stuffy. Graham had cans of beer lined up on the coffee table. Marcus was sprawled on the old sofa, eyes glued to the television. I hated them. Standing in the doorway I hated them being there; in fact, I hated them for just
being.
And I was glad this would be the last time I’d have to look at them. Glad that it was all over for me.

I had to get by them and into Graham’s room. Tears of frustration were welling up and I didn’t want them to see me cry. I walked past as if going to my own room.

‘Everything’s so quiet,’ Graham was saying, as if I’d be interested, ‘not a damned soul to be found anywhere. Restaurants empty, pubs empty. Everyone’s at home watching the funeral, so I thought I may as well do the same.’

I walked on down the hall.

‘Diana?’

‘Yes.’

I walked back to the door.

‘You should come and look.’ It was Marcus who said this, but not in his usual mocking way. ‘It’s her funeral, you know.’

‘As if I didn’t know, dickhead!’ I was about to flash at him, but I stopped myself just in time. He’d spoken to me as if I were a normal human being. I paused and glanced at the television. I saw a gun carriage carrying a coffin draped in a beautiful bright flag. It almost seemed too colourful to bear, given that she, the Princess, was under it. I took in the eight royal guards in their red coats, stiff and upright, and so sad.

A new wave of grief swept over me.

‘Diana’, her name echoed in my brain, ‘Diana’. But I didn’t risk whispering it in this hostile place. How dare they look at her now when both of them had been so disparaging in the past? How dare they ask me
to look with them! But I couldn’t tear myself away. I just stood there.

I heard the clip, clip, clip of horses’ hooves. Everything looked somehow familiar to me. And I remembered then how Mum had been glued to the TV screen every time there had been a royal wedding. And always with me, ‘her shadow’, right there beside her. A forlorn bell kept sounding—not at all like the peeling of wedding bells. As it tolled through the city on the television, it seemed to toll right through me as well.

‘They’re ringing it every minute,’ Marcus said with all the authority of his few moments’ viewing. He spoke with something that sounded suspiciously like respect. On the TV four figures stepped out of a side street. I recognised William and Harry, Diana’s beloved boys, at once. Their grandfather, the Duke of Edinburgh, stern-faced and sad, walked beside William, while Diana’s brother, Earl Spencer, walked beside Harry. I saw the anguished face of Prince Charles, Diana’s former husband. And no matter what is or was being said about him, I felt very sorry at the way he looked and I knew just how he’d be feeling. I found my knees almost buckling under me. It made me feel like crying all over again, for them and for her. But I remembered I felt sorry for myself too. Very!

‘It seems unbelievable!’ Graham was saying. What was pretty unbelievable was that his voice was husky with emotion. Graham, who was dry-eyed at Mum’s funeral and so distant from me for days after. But more surprising than Graham’s reaction was the fact that
Marcus didn’t have a smart-arse comment just right for the occasion. He had not said another word but seemed fixed on the images on the screen. It dawned on me that even he, even monstrous Marcus, was affected by what he saw—that’s how it seemed anyway. For a moment I thought about his own mum, and what Babs had told me. I wondered if Marcus went to her funeral.