Among Others

I went into C&A and looked at bras. I didn’t try any on. They’re more expensive than I would have thought, and the sizing is very complicated. Auntie Teg would know about them.

In Smiths I saw Gill looking at records. I don’t care about records at all, in fact I associate being interested in pop music with the stuff she was talking about despising, trying to get boys interested in you. But I went to say hello. She was looking at a record called Anarchy in the U.K. by a group called the Sex Pistols. It was a very ugly cover, but I am quite interested in anarchism because of The Dispossessed. I think it would be much fairer to live on Anarres. Gill said we wouldn’t like it because our parents wouldn’t have money and we wouldn’t have advantages. I said everyone would have the same advantages. I didn’t say my family weren’t as rich as everyone else’s anyway. I said why should we have a better education than someone who can’t afford Arlinghurst?

Gill bought the record, though she’s not going to be able to play it until Christmas so I don’t see the point.

On the way back, we talked about Leonardo. Apparently, as well as painting the Mona Lisa, he was a scientist and invented helicopters and studied fossils and kept a notebook. Gill has a book of lives of scientists which she offered to lend me, which is kind of her, though it isn’t at all my thing. She’s a bit—I don’t know. She’s not stupid, which is refreshing, and she’s not afraid to talk to me, but she seems a bit over-eager somehow, which is off-putting. I get the feeling she wants something.

I shared the Twix with Deirdre. I didn’t tell her I pinched it.

Sunday 18th November 1979

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.”