The Tall Tales of Daphne Monroe

Monday 5th January.

8:30am

Well, I can already tell that my dad and the new headmaster are going to be best friends. They are both INSANE.

The first impression we got of Dr Manning was his feet, only in socks, hanging out of his office window on the second floor. Smooth jazz was playing. At eight fifteen in the morning. There's no need for that.

But he comes bounding over once the receptionist has phoned through, thankfully now wearing shoes, and pumps my dad's hand so hard I fear he might pull it off.

Then he turns to me with a scary smile and says; 'you're gonna love it here Daphne- Daphne, wow! What a name!' and then pats me ON THE HEAD. Like I'm a child. Gross.

And my dad just laughed.

I hate it here.

It's only been ten minutes.

10:00am

Was there like- some kind of outbreak last night? That turned all the adults on the planet into crazy loons?

All the teachers here are bizarre. They are either overly friendly or downright mean.

But I've made a friend. Sort of.

Her name is Fiona and she's in my History class. She has really long red hair that she doesn't like and a day timer like me so we've bonded. She says she's going to introduce me to her friends at lunch, so I don't have to worry about sitting on my own like some outsider in a '80's teen movie.

I like her. Although when I told her that my dad had just bought a pub she said it was 'cool'.

No. No, it's not cool. It's just insane.

1:30pm

So, apparently Dr Manning likes to be known as 'The Man.'

And students actually call him that.

'Why?'

'Two reasons,' Eddie says. Eddie is one of the friends Fiona wanted me to meet. 'First ironically, because you know, he's in charge of the school so he's 'the man' and then because of his name. Dr Man-ning.'

'Has he lost his mind?'

'Probably. But he's still pretty cool so we call him that anyway.'

Help. These people are going to surround me every day for the next four years.

4:00pm

It turns out that Fiona lives just down the road from the pub, so we caught the bus and walked home together.

'Your dad bought the 'The Crown?' she asks as we near it.

'Is that what it's called?'

'Yeah. It was really popular until the owner died last year. His son didn't want anything to do with it, so he put it up for sale. Is your dad going to run it as a pub?'

'That's the plan.'

'Cool.'

There's that word again. 'Cool'. I wish people would stop using it- knowing my luck Dad will overhear it one time and then start rocking out his old band t-shirts and tight trousers, thinking he's 'part of the gang'. Lord help me.

I go round to see Granddad Tony when I get home. He's sat outside on the bench petting a dog.

When did we get a dog?

'Hey Granddad.'

'Hello, Pet. Meet Graham,' he points down to the dog.

Graham? How in the name of Jesus is that a suitable name for a dog? Graham. Might as well call him Bill or Howard and be done with it.

'Where did he come from?' I stroke his fur. He's actually a very lovely looking dog.

'No idea.'

Oh, God.

9:00pm

So Graham's owner finally turned up and took Graham away.

Apparently his name is Spike.

Granddad Tony's distraught.

10:40pm

Maybe I can use Granddad Tony's emotional fragility to con Dad into actually getting us a pet. I mean, Jason the seagull is great and everything, but I'm slightly terrified of standing too close to him.

He has that look in his eye.

10:43pm

It's a no-go on the dog front as far as Dad's concerned.

I hate my life.