mummy!
it's mummy!
she's terribly hurt . . .
i think your drawing's fantastic!
hello!
got an a, mum!
he's italian, dad! the world's greatest tenor!
stop it! you're spoiling it! go away!
i spent ages in hospital, too . . . with my leg. i had to have all these operations.
osteomyelitus turns your bones to chalk. it took them two years to drain all the muck out.
it doesn't matter.
no, thank you.
i think i'm dying . . .
urrrgh! you've been eating onions.
"there's a light in her eye, though she may try to hide it, she cannot deny, there's a light in her eye."
i wish james would do a religious picture . . . he'd be perfect as jesus!
but, we're all going to heaven!
saint mario!
he . . .
him . . .
this . . .
that . . .
it.
i decided that my new year's resolution is to be more lenient with others.
aren't you going out?
this is a private function! go away!
dad!
it's my middle name.
he's the manager!
we have decided how sad it is for other people that they cannot appreciate our genius . . .
 . . but we hope the book will help them to do so a little, though no one could fully appreciate us.
deborah awaits his return in their private boudoir at the very top of the tower.
he flings open the door and launches himself at the bed, ravishing her!
julie! julie!
what?
what???
today juliet and i discovered the key to the fourth world. we have had it in our possession for about six months, but we only realised it on the day of the death of christ. we saw a gateway through the clouds. everything was full of peace and bliss. we then realised we had the key . . .
we have an extra part of our brain which can appreciate the fourth world. only about 10 people have it. on two days every year we may use the key and look into that beautiful world which we have been lucky enough to be allowed to know of . . .
 . . on this day of finding the key to the way through the clouds.
push! . . . breathe! . . . it's coming! . . . oh, god!
it's a boy! deborah . . . we've got a son and heir!
you're such an incredible woman.
it's not rubbish!
it doesn't say it has to be the windsors!
mrs. hulme told me they had found out today that juliet has tuberculosis on one lung. poor julietta. i nearly fainted when i heard. i had a terrible job not to cry.
i spent a wretched night. it would be wonderful if i could get tuberculosis, too.
i'm not hungry.
i just want to be on my own for a while.
do you think juliet could stay here while her parents are away?
but she'll have no one to look after her!
this evening i had a brainwave: that juliet and i should write to each other as charles and deborah.
i wrote a six-page letter as charles and a two-page letter as paul.
she has entered into the spirit of the thing greatly!
my dearest darling deborah. affairs of state continue to occupy my time.
i have to report that the lower classes are terrifically dull.
only yesterday i was compelled to execute several peasants just to alleviate the boredom . . .
 . . diello insisted on coming along . . . in fact, he made such a fuss that i had to let him yield the ax himself. heads did roll! not just the prisoners, but the royal guard, my valet and several unfortunate copped it as well . . .
i love the colour!
yes, but there's nothing between them. deborah would never go for a commoner. nicholas has got his eye on gina, an amazingly beautiful gypsy.
juliet made it!
oh, yes! it's all worked out!
you'll never guess what's happened!!
john has fallen in love with me!
well . . . no. but it's so obvious.
no, silly. i'm just teasing. he's only a stupid boy!
whaddya want?
shut the door.
you should have worn your slippers.
just for a minute.
to think that so much could happen in so little time, caused by so few. a terrible tragedy has occurred . . .
"now, gels . . . it isn't ooo, it's eee," and she goes . . . "eeeeee" as if someone is jabbing a pin into her! silly old trout!
and then in history, we've got this senile old bat, who goes . . . "and charles the second met nell gwynn aboard a boat and he was a prince and she was a pretty young thing and these thing do happen . . ." god! it's no wonder i don't excel in history!
0f course, my darling nicholas.
i like nicholas much better!
what are you doing?
bloody hell!
i lay there mesmerised. it was just too frightful to believe . . .
when i got up i found father had told mother . . .
i had a nasty foreboding feeling at first, but now i realise my crime was too frightful for an ordinary lecture.
can i go now?
well, i guess i take after you then!
you ran off with dad when you were only 17! nana parker told me!
i am terribly cut up. i miss nicholas terrifically. mother thinks i will have nothing more to do with him, but little she knows . . .
nicholas was pleased that i was so early.
we sat around and talked for an hour and then went to bed. i declined the invitation at first, but he became very masterful and i had no option. i discovered that i had not lost my virginity on thursday night. however, there is no doubt whatsoever that i have now . . .
charles!
deborah!
diello!
deborah!
i've got to go home.
there are living among two dutiful daughters.
of a man who possesses two beautiful daughters,
you cannot know nor yet try to guess,. the sweet soothingness of their caress,
the outstanding genius of this pair is understood by few,. they are so rare. . .
compared with these two, every man is a fool,. the world is most honoured that they should deign to rule,. and i worship the power of these lovely two,.  with that adoring love known to so few . . .
'tis indeed a miracle, one must feel, that two such heavenly creatures are real,
hatred burning bright in the brown eyes with enemies for fuel,
icy scorn glitters in the gray eyes, contemptuous and cruel, why are men such fools they will not realise,
the wisdom that is hidden behind those strange eyes.
and these wonderful people are you and i.
no.
she nags me.
no.
they're silly.
no!
mother woke me this morning and started lecturing me before i was properly awake, which i thought was somewhat unfair. she has brought up the worst possible threat now. she said that if my health did not prove i could never see the hulmes again. the thought is too dreadful. life would be unbearable without deborah . . .
l wish i could die. this is not an idle or temporary impulse. i have decided over the last two or three weeks that it would be the best thing that could happen together, and the thought of death is not fearsome.
my new year's resolution is a far more selfish one than last year, so there is more probability of my keeping it. it is to make my motto: "eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow you may be dead."
my name is gina!
what does old stew want?
who cares!
i'm educating myself!
what do you know? you wouldn't know the first thing about writing. you're the most ignorant person i've ever met!
i don't wanna be in bloody school!
i think i'm going crazy.
let's go overseas . . .
stay still or they'll be blurry . . .
just a couple more . . .
i'm sure they'll notice things missing.
i can try my father's safe. i'm sure i can get the keys to his office.
i rose at 5:30 this morning and did housework before 8 o'clock, including taking wendy her breakfast in bed. i feel very pleased with myself on the whole and also the future.
we are so brilliantly clever.
i thought he was supposed to be terribly ill.
do you think bloody bill's trying to get into her draws?
poor father . . .
just washing my hair now, laurie. won't be a moment.
yes, yes, yes!
i'm bloody dressing as fast as i can, for god's sake!
mother gave me a fearful along the usual strain.
i rang deborah immediately as i had to tell someone sympathetic how i loathed mother.
deborah told me the stupendous news! i'm going out to ilam as we have much to talk over.
hello?
deborah was still in bed when i arrived.
dr. hulme asked us to come into the lounge to have a talk with him.
the shock is too great to have penetrated my mind. it is so incredible. poor father. dr. hulme was absolutely kind and understanding . . .
he said we must tell him everything about our going to america. he was both hope-giving and depressing. we talked for a long time and deborah and i were near tears by the time it was over.
what is to be the future now? we may all be going to italy and dozens of other places, or not all. we none of us know where we are and a good deal depends on chance.
dr. hulme is the noblest and most wonderful person i have ever known of.
one thing deborah and i are sticking to: through everything, we sink or swim together.
the hulmes will look after me. they want me to live with them!
i belong with deborah! we're going to south africa!
you have to let me go!
i felt thoroughly depressed and even quite seriously considered committing suicide. life seems so much not worth the living, death such an easy way out.
anger against mother boiled up inside me as it is she who is one of the main obstacle in my path. suddenly a means of ridding myself of this obstacle occurred to me. if she were to die . . .
it's no bloody good . . . i went to the passport office today. they won't give me one till i'm 20.
i need my sodding parents' consent.
i did not tell deborah of my plans for removing mother. i have made no decision yet as the last fate i wish to meet is one in a borstal. i am trying to think of some way.
we realised why deborah and i have such extraordinary telepathy and why people treat us and look at us the way they do. it is because we are mad. we are both stark raving mad!
dr. hulme is mad, as mad as a march hare!
it was the first time i had ever seen it. deborah had always told me how hideous he was!
it is appalling. he is dreadful. i have never in my life seen anything in the same category of hideousness . . . but i adore him!
we talked for some time about it, getting ourselves more and more excited.
we enacted how each saint would make love in bed.
we spent a hectic night going through the saints. it was wonderful! heavenly! beautiful! and ours! we felt satisfied indeed. we have now learned the peace of the thing called bliss, the joy of the thing called sin.
i'm coming with you.
i know what to do about mother.
we don't want to go to too much trouble . . . some sort of accident.
people die every day.
our main idea for the day was to moider mother.
this notion is not a new one but this time it is a definite plan which we intend to carry out. we have worked it out carefully and are both thrilled by the idea. naturally we feel a trifle nervous, but the pleasure of anticipation is great.
we both spent last night having a simply wonderful time in every possible way.
i was picked up at 2:00 p.m. i have been very sweet and good. i have worked out a little more of our plan. peculiarly enough i have no qualms of conscience.
i rose late and helped mother vigorously this morning. deborah rang and we decided to use a rock in a stocking rather than a sandbag. we discussed the moider fully. i feel very keyed up as though i were planning a surprise party. mother has fallen in with everything beautifully and the happy event is to take place tomorrow afternoon. so next time i write in this diary mother will be dead. how odd-yet how pleasing.
mummy!
i am writing a little of this up on the morning before the death. i felt very excited and the night-before-christmas-ish last night. i am about to rise.
let's go upstairs, deborah. i wrote the last 10 pages of my opera last night.
it's a three-act story with a tragic end.
i thought for hours about whether carmelita should accept bernard's marriage proposal . . .
 . . but in the end i decided against it. i thought it would spoil all their fun.
it's true! he was spotted in the lingerie department, eh, wendy?
i bet he pitches a tent in the middle of their bedroom, and they have to pretend to be on some mountain!
bye, dad.
let's go for a walk down here . . . come on, mummy!
you have it.
go on, mum, treat yourself.
look, mother!
no!