Dead Famous

DAY FIVE. 9.15 p.m

After David had left the room, Layla did indeed take his advice and recite the poem herself, grinning like a baboon with a banana wedged sideways in its mouth throughout.

Jazz, Kelly, Dervla and Moon listened respectfully, and when it was over, they all said that they thought it was very, very good.

Woggle opined from his corner that poetry was merely an effort to formalize language and as such indicated a totalitarian mindset. “Words are anarchists. Let them run free,” he said. But the others ignored him, something that they had learned to do as much as possible, while counting the minutes to nomination day.

“That was the business, that poem, Layles. It was dead wicked, that, so fair play to yez,” Moon said in her Mancunian accent, which seemed to be getting thicker by the day.

“Did you notice my red lipstick?” Layla gushed.

They all had.

“Some anthropologists believe that women paint their lips red in order to make their mouths reminiscent of their vaginas.”

“Steady on, girl,” said Gazzer from over by the kettle. “Just had my dinner.”

“They say that women do it to make themselves more attractive to men, but I do it as a celebration.”

“Of what?” Jazz asked innocently.

“Of my vagina.”

“Oh, right.”

“Any time you want someone to help you celebrate it, Layles,” said Garry.

“Sherrup, Garry,” said Moon. “It’s not about fookin’ blokes, it’s about bein’ a strong and spiritual woman, in’t it, Layles?”

“Yes, it is, Moon, that’s exactly what it’s about.”

Kelly was still a bit confused. “Well, I don’t get what these anthropologists are on about. Why would any girl want to have a face like a fanny?”

Layla had to think about this for a moment. She had never been asked before. People she knew just tended to nod wisely and ask if there was any more guacamole.

“I don’t think they mean exactly like one. It’s just an impression of genitalia in order to steer the male towards procreation.”

“Oh, right, I see,” said Kelly.

“It’s why female monkeys turn their bottoms pink. If they didn’t they would have died out as a species long ago. Trust the woman to find a way.”

Everybody nodded thoughtfully.

“Did you know that monkeys have star signs?” said Moon. “Yeah. This mystic went to London Zoo and did horoscopes for all the advanced primates, and do you know what? She got them all bang on, their personalities and everything. It were fookin’ weird.”