The It Girl: Superstar Geek. Katy Birchall

I could hear someone trying to sell cabbages for twenty rupees a kilogram. India seems like a very noisy place.

      As Dad rummaged around in his bedroom he decided to start lecturing me from upstairs. ‘I don’t want any problems this evening. You’re to stay home and behave,’ he instructed.

      I found this comment unjustified considering I am very well behaved the majority of the time. I am hardly a troublemaker and I don’t get invited to any parties so I don’t really know what he was getting so anxious about.

      The most recent time that I guess I wasn’t the model of good behaviour was when he had a house-warming party for our new place in London and all these people invaded, sauntering in with their wafts of expensive perfume and bottles of Chardonnay. I had to take their coats and walk around for the evening with trays of nibbles, listening to them tell Dad how adorable I was as they ignored me and picked up mini bruschettas from the tray.

      Anyway there was this actor there who I overheard saying that he couldn’t understand why Nick had that dog over there that looked like he would slobber all over the place and probably, by the look of the boy, wasn’t even a good pedigree. I accidentally let Dog chew his hat.

      Dad didn’t make me sit down that time and have a talk about respecting my elders or anything, but he talked to me for about five billion hours the next day on the difference between fighter aircrafts and bomber aircrafts in the war.

      I’m not sure if that was intended to be a punishment but it sure felt like one.

      ‘I’m just going to sit and watch movies with Dog. Have a little trust, Father.’

      ‘Not vampire movies?’ He snorted with laughter at his own ‘joke’.

      This is not only unfunny but also grossly unfair considering he was the one who last week recommended the stupid people-slaying child-vampire movie to his fourteen-year-old daughter, alone in the house with only a Labrador for company.

      It’s not as if Dog could protect me. He’s afraid of salad spoons for crying out loud. Whenever we get out the big wooden salad spoon he goes round in circles manically and barks his head off in fear. What would he do if a vampire strolled into the building? I’d had to disturb Dad on his date and make him come home and check there were no vampires around.

      ‘When do I get to meet this girlfriend of yours?’ I asked, ignoring the vampire movie comment and trying to change the subject.

      ‘Soon enough,’ he said breezily, coming back into the room. ‘She’s dying to meet you.’

      ‘I bet.’

      Dad did a last mirror-check in the hall. ‘Not bad for an old man, eh? I reckon I could pass for early thirties.’

      ‘Don’t get ahead of yourself, Gramps. Anyone who talks about Eric Clapton with as much passion as you do could never be a day under forty.’

      ‘That’s enough from you.’ He stood over me. ‘Are you going to be all right? No fires, yes?’

      ‘No fires. No vampires.’

      ‘Call me if you need me.’ He gave my hair a ruffle and then he shot me a long, hard look as though he was trying to read my face.

      ‘Anna . . .’ He hesitated. ‘You do . . . you do like it here in London don’t you?’

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘And you . . . well . . . never mind. Have a nice evening. Bye, Dog.’

      As the door shut, I got a very distinct feeling that my father wasn’t telling me something.

       From: [email protected]

       To: [email protected]

       Subject: Are you a pyromaniac?!

      So I tried looking for you after school but someone said you’d gone home early. And I’ve been trying to call and you’re not picking up your home phone or mobile, which I assume means you and Dog are watching something?

      What happened today?? Is it true that you set the science block on fire??

      Write back asap.

      J x

       From: [email protected]

       To: [email protected]

       Subject: Re: Are you a pyromaniac?!

      Dad’s out on a date so Dog and I are passing the time by YouTube-ing scenes from The Lion King. The reason I can’t pick up the phone is because I attempted to lift Dog up as though he was Simba on Pride Rock during that ‘Circle of Life’ song. Anyway, I couldn’t do it and he fell back on to me, landing on my arm which now really hurts and I think I twisted my ankle so I’m staying put on the sofa.

      I think he’s put on a few pounds.

      No, I didn’t set the science block on fire. I set Josie Graham’s hair on fire.

      Love, me xxx

       From: [email protected]

       To: [email protected]

       Subject: ARE YOU INSANE?!

      Why would you set fire to Ms Deputy Queen Bee’s hair? You do realise that her mum once met Kate Moss? The school is really going to hate you, you know.

      Is this because no one has asked you to the dance yet? Like some kind of protest thing against all the girls who have been asked? It’s not until the end of term - you’ve still got ages for someone to ask you.

      J x

      PS Why would you even think it was a good idea to try to lift a fully grown Labrador? Stop trying to act out movies, you weirdo.

       From: [email protected]

       To: [email protected]

       Subject: Re: ARE YOU INSANE?!

      No, I am not insane. I just need to check that hairspray-laden girls aren’t anywhere near Bunsen burners when I turn them on in the future.

      The school definitely hates me. Josie looked like she was going to strangle me or something. I feared for my life. It was like that time I peed myself a little bit when the really scary IT teacher at my last school yelled at me for taking paper out of the printer.

      Do you think she’ll tell Sophie? Do you think Sophie will hate me?

      That would really be bad news because the other day I could have sworn that Sophie laughed at one of my jokes she overheard me telling Danny in the corridor. I thought that maybe she might not think I was such a loser after all.

      And, excuse me, but I don’t even care that no one’s asked me to the dance. I don’t need a date. Last time I went to a dance I didn’t have a date and I was totally fine. I just danced with a balloon. It made everyone laugh but in a ‘she’s really funny’ way not in a ‘laughing at me’ way.

      Love, me xxx

       From: [email protected]

       To: [email protected]

       Subject: Um . . . I’m sorry . . . what?

      That email was disturbing on so many levels.

      You peed yourself? Dude, how old were you when this happened?

      What do you