Leap of Faith by Candy Harper

awful day, but actually going to school with Josette wasn’t that bad. The constant hum of people speaking rapid French really acts as a sort of anaesthetic.
    It was pretty obvious by the bulging eyes and screechy voices that the teachers were saying the same sort of drivel that they do in English schools, but it’s even easier to let it wash over you when you can’t tell whether they’re saying, ‘You’re an irresponsible idiot!’ or, ‘How many times have I told you not to poke people in the eye with that?’. I did actually pick up some useful French in the science lab this afternoon: Josette’s Chemistry teacher taught me how to say, ‘Stop! Stop! You’ll burn the whole place down!’ by patiently repeating it every time Josette and I got creative and tried a few experiments that weren’t in the textbook. I don’t know why they don’t teach us French like that at home. You know, phrases that are relevant and can be used in everyday life.
    I was pleased to discover that Philippe is in quite a few of Josette’s classes. He is very nice looking and from the way the teachers were practically doing twirls every time he answered a question he seems clever too.
    I don’t know why my dad always says it would be a bad idea for me to go to a school with boys; I found that it was perfectly possible to eye up Philippe, and ignore the teacher just as well as I do back home.
    I hunted Angharad out at lunchtime. She seems to be having a great time. ‘Last night, Louise and her brothers took it in turns to point to things in the room and I had to tell them the French word for them. They got faster and faster, till I could hardly get the words out and then I forgot the word for mantelpiece . . .’
    My brain nearly melted at this point at the thought that anyone anywhere ever
knew
the French word for mantelpiece.
    ‘. . . so I said ‘Saperlipopette!’ and now Louise says it every time we see a mantelpiece. It’s so funny!’
    It was nice to see her happy. ‘Josette and I did something similar,’ I said. ‘I pointed to things I wanted to eat and she told me if they were worth bothering with or not.’
    ‘So you learnt some French vocabulary?’
    ‘Not exactly. But I can make a vomiting sound in a French accent.’
    Ang laughed. ‘I’m super glad I came, aren’t you? Tomorrow Louise’s parents are taking us to a museum and they’re going to let me buy the tickets! In French!’
    Blimey. I’m pleased she’s having a good time, but what with the ticket buying and the pointing, how will Ang ever go back to our humdrum existence after all this glamour?
    LATER
    The only problem with this little holiday is Icky. For starters, it is quite revolting watching her suck up to Josette’s parents and then say rude things about them when they’re out of the room.
    Secondly, she has been showing me up at Josette’s school because she has been speaking French more than me. This is because she has totally cheated and learnt a load of useful words and phrases. You’d think the teachers would appreciate my more inventive approach to communication, which involves a wide range of skills like drawing little pictures, miming and the occasional bit of expressive dance.
    Thirdly, she takes any opportunity to whisper something nasty in my ear. Tonight at dinner she leant over and said, ‘If you eat anymore pastry you’ll need two coach seats on the way home.’ No one could expect me to refrain from getting violent under this sort of duress. Surely even Miss Ramsbottom would understand if I gave her a quick karate chop to the neck, as long as I leave it out of my report.
    LATER STILL
    I should probably start making some notes for that stupid report. I brought a notebook along especially, but so far all I’ve managed is to make a list of cheeses that I want Mum to have imported when I get home.
    TUESDAY 22ND MAY
    Icky Blundell has stooped to new depths. I knew she was a snake but it seems that she’s a double snake with slugs