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things. She has made up one or two rules that we have to follow, but they are mostly just common sense, such as always being sure to tell her if we are going out and where we are going. She has put a book on the hall table – the In-and-Out Book. We sign out, and sign in! We’re cool with this. Just because we are teenagers – almost – does not make us unreasonable. It’s only when grown-ups are unreasonable that we take umbrage. That is
such
a good word! Umbrage, umbrage. I have just said it to Tash, who says that she has never heard of it.
    “What’s it mean?”
    I said, “It means when you get the hump.”
    Tash said that she had the hump right now, with Ali. “She’s doing baked beans again. She did baked beans last night. We’ll get bean-bound!”
    We are taking it in turns to do the cooking, and this week it’s Ali’s turn. I’m all for cutting down on the workload, but I do think that baked beans two nights in a row is a bit much. I have just said this to Ali. I said, “Can’t you do something different?”
    “Like what?” said Ali.
    I said, “I dunno! Omelettes, or fish fingers, or something.”
    Ali said that that would mean cooking. She said, “I told you before, I don’t cook. I just open tins.”
    I said, “Well, couldn’t you at least have opened some other kind of tin?”
    Honestly! It’s like she never even thought of it. Primly, she said that now she had opened the beans, we would have to eat them.
    “You can’t waste food.”
    I suggested she fed them to Fat Cat, but they are in tomato sauce and tomato sauce, it seems, is bad for cats.
    “This is going to look really great in my Food Diary,” said Tash. “Monday: beans. Tuesday: beans. Wednesday—”
    “Beans are good for you,” said Ali.
    Tash said, “Beans give you wind.” And she pursed her lips and made a long, loud growly noise. I immediately did the same.
    “That is so rude,” said Ali.
    Tash said, “Beanz meanz fartz!” and we both collapsed.

    Wednesday
    Email from Mum. She says she is not going to email us every day, just once a week, and she would like us to email her back once a week. We have delegated this task to Ali. We feel it is the least she can do (to make up for the beans) and have told her that it will be good for her. She was quite meek about it and promised that tonight she will open a different kind of tin.
    Me and Tash have just been down to see Auntie Jay and ask her about the party. She has said yes. Hooray! She has also said that we can invite whoever we want,
including boys,
but that a) it will have to finish by nine o’clock and b) she will have to look in on us every now and again, just to check.
    “I won’t cramp your style, don’t worry! But I did promise your mum I’d keep an eye on you.”
    The party is to be on Saturday week. We are quite excited! We have already made out a list of the peoplewe intend to invite. They are: Meg Hennessy, Kim Rogers, Zoella Barling, Ishara Khan, Avril Mackie and Shauna Bates. Meg, Kim and Zoella because we are particular friends with them, the other three because they have brothers! Ishara’s is rather plain and has spots, and Avril’s is a bit of a nerd, but Shauna’s is quite nice, and in any case we reckon that any boys are better than no boys at all. We are not inviting Daisy Markham because we don’t think she deserves it, and anyway she doesn’t have any brothers.

    “What about him downstairs?” said Tash.
    A knotty problem! We still haven’t set eyes on him. It’s really annoying as we are for ever racing up and down the stairs or out on to the landing. We have found a secret way of referring to him, for when Ali is around. We refer to him as “Gosh”. From his name: Gus O’SHaugnessy. Pretty neat, we think! The way it works is like this. One of us, Tash for instance, will come into the room, and I will go, “Gosh?” meaning, “Did you seehim?” and she will shake her head, meaning “No I didn’t.” Then a few minutes later