TERROR STRIKES - INGRID CAN'T EAT
T U E S D A Y, 4 A P R I L
Snowed worse than ever today. Dutronc came down very late to breakfast. We didn't ski but went into the sitting room (the second one). Chump and me sat at the corner table so we wouldn't disturb anybody while she heard my German nouns.
Who should come in but the Dutroncs. They sat over in the dark corner but he sat back so he could see us. He kept on looking. I was flicking through ‘Stern’ when he came over and sat down (for a second) at the next table. He touched the other German magazine that was lying on the seat and said, "can I take this?" I couldn’t believe it.
We kept on looking at each other across the room - it was fab. Ma and Pa joined me, Chump went off skiing with June, and I went over to the dark corner to ask him if I could borrow 'Labyrinth'. I hadn't been playing with it very long when the most staggering thing happened. He came over and said, "how far have you got to?" Then he, Mummy and me started chatting. I asked him what he was studying and he said Maths and Physics. He asked me my age and I said 16; then he asked what month I was born in. (To see if he's older? I've a ghastly feeling he's 16.) He said he was so bored in the evenings. Then he asked me if I liked dancing. I said "yes" and he said, "would you like to go dancing with me at the Scotch Club"? I said "yes".
I spent the rest of the day worrying about it. I felt sick and got an upset tummy and could hardly eat my lunch.
At 2.30 Ma, Pa, June and me went up the Schlegelkopf and skied down the Petersboden. It was ghastly, I couldn't see a thing, my glasses were blurred with the snow, my fringe got soaked and I felt utterly miserable. I'm not nearly so keen on him as before. He said something about him getting drunk all the time when in France. He sounds like Peter-Jan. It's entirely my fault I kept on looking at him, it's not surprising he thought I'd like to go out. He doesn’t look 18 close up. Ma and Pa say we can all go dancing together tonight, but I'm still scared stiff. He’s bound to be fed up if they come too.
Sat in the sitting room and wrote Diary. June played cards, Ma and Pa read newspapers and the kids (ghastly word) played on a slide they've made in the snow. Dutronc was in the next room and I had to go in and tell him I didn't feel well enough to go out tonight. I think he was rather fed up; he shrugged his shoulders when I said let’s all go tomorrow.
Hardly looked at him once during supper. I felt terrible. Butterflies in my tummy and a ghastly taste in my mouth, I could hardly eat. They went out years before us. He was sitting in the cubby hole. I went and asked him if he'd like to play cards with us, but he said he was going out to a "movie." He didn't smile once.
I wish I'd never met him.