service station on the motorway, I turned to Aimee who was sitting in the seat behind me and said, ‘Aimee, let’s get as much food as we can.’ The problem was, I only had a few pennies left because we’d only been allowed to take five pounds and I’d spent it on souvenirs and shit.
In the shop, I bought a packet of cheese and onion crisps. But I was so fucking hungry that I’d eaten them before I’d even got back to the coach. I was sitting in my seat next to the window and as the coach pulled away I poked my head between the two seats and whispered to Aimee behind me: ‘Aimee, I’m starving. Have you got any food left? Can I have some?’
It was just at a moment when the coach was the quietest it had been on the trip that my sister replied, ‘Kelly, your breath fucking stinks. Fuck off.’
Cartoon-style, the coach weaved to the side of the road that led to the motorway and practically screeched to a halt. One of the teachers came marching down the aisle and said, ‘Kelly, who swore at you just then?’
I just kept looking forward and said, ‘I don’t know, Miss.’
As if I was going to dob my sister in it. As much as we didn’t get on at times, sibling rivalry and all that, there was no way I was going to dob on my sister. There was absolutely no fucking way.
The teacher knew it was Aimee, but she was trying to get me to admit it. When we got back to school, Aimee and I both got suspended and a letter went home to our parents. My mum was in the kitchen and read the letter that was summoning her to see the Head. In our bedrooms, Aimee and I were bracing ourselves for the biggest telling off we’d ever had from Mum – and the school.
I said to Aimee, ‘This is it. We’ve had enough warnings. Mum is going to lose it. She hates swearing and she is going to go absolutely nuts.’
I’d already said to Aimee just before we went in the Head’s office, ‘We’re done for, Aimee. Kiss your sweet ass goodbye.’
I mean, we’re talking about a school where you’d get a bloody detention if you used the wrong coloured pen, so you can imagine why they didn’t take too kindly to Aimee saying ‘Fuck off’.
Sitting in the Head’s room with the teacher and my mum, I wasperched on a plastic chair with my hands clenched underneath at either side waiting for the Head to say that we were going to get expelled.
Mum said to the teacher, ‘OK. Explain to me what happened.”
The Head came out with all this stuff about how Aimee had sworn at me on the school trip. But I had refused to say it was her when asked about it.
Mum just replied, ‘Do you really expect sisters to tell on each other?’ She continued, ‘All she said at the end of the day was: “Fuck off”. What is so wrong with that? Why didn’t you just give her a detention?’
Aimee and I looked up and were smiling at each other. We couldn’t believe that Mum was taking our side.
Mum then just stood up and said, ‘You know your problem? You need to get fucked.’ Then she turned to me and Aimee and said: ‘Come on we’re going.’
We couldn’t believe what had just happened. We were absolutely pissing ourselves laughing.
As we walked across the car park to where Mum had parked she said to us, ‘That’s it. We’re going to America to be with your dad.’
CHAPTER FOUR
BECOMING AMERICANISED
I’d pretty much come to the conclusion quite early on that Beverly Hills was not real life .
A FTER being brought up in rural Buckinghamshire where the most exciting place to hang out was Pizza Hut, I couldn’t believe my luck when we moved to Los Angeles in the summer of 1998.
We’d spent periods of times there during the holidays when we were kids, but this time was different because I was thirteen and could really appreciate the massive shopping malls and movie theatres that were all just five minutes away. Everything was local and twenty-four hours and quick, quick, quick! You want a pizza at 3 a.m.? No fucking problem.
Our move to
In the shop, I bought a packet of cheese and onion crisps. But I was so fucking hungry that I’d eaten them before I’d even got back to the coach. I was sitting in my seat next to the window and as the coach pulled away I poked my head between the two seats and whispered to Aimee behind me: ‘Aimee, I’m starving. Have you got any food left? Can I have some?’
It was just at a moment when the coach was the quietest it had been on the trip that my sister replied, ‘Kelly, your breath fucking stinks. Fuck off.’
Cartoon-style, the coach weaved to the side of the road that led to the motorway and practically screeched to a halt. One of the teachers came marching down the aisle and said, ‘Kelly, who swore at you just then?’
I just kept looking forward and said, ‘I don’t know, Miss.’
As if I was going to dob my sister in it. As much as we didn’t get on at times, sibling rivalry and all that, there was no way I was going to dob on my sister. There was absolutely no fucking way.
The teacher knew it was Aimee, but she was trying to get me to admit it. When we got back to school, Aimee and I both got suspended and a letter went home to our parents. My mum was in the kitchen and read the letter that was summoning her to see the Head. In our bedrooms, Aimee and I were bracing ourselves for the biggest telling off we’d ever had from Mum – and the school.
I said to Aimee, ‘This is it. We’ve had enough warnings. Mum is going to lose it. She hates swearing and she is going to go absolutely nuts.’
I’d already said to Aimee just before we went in the Head’s office, ‘We’re done for, Aimee. Kiss your sweet ass goodbye.’
I mean, we’re talking about a school where you’d get a bloody detention if you used the wrong coloured pen, so you can imagine why they didn’t take too kindly to Aimee saying ‘Fuck off’.
Sitting in the Head’s room with the teacher and my mum, I wasperched on a plastic chair with my hands clenched underneath at either side waiting for the Head to say that we were going to get expelled.
Mum said to the teacher, ‘OK. Explain to me what happened.”
The Head came out with all this stuff about how Aimee had sworn at me on the school trip. But I had refused to say it was her when asked about it.
Mum just replied, ‘Do you really expect sisters to tell on each other?’ She continued, ‘All she said at the end of the day was: “Fuck off”. What is so wrong with that? Why didn’t you just give her a detention?’
Aimee and I looked up and were smiling at each other. We couldn’t believe that Mum was taking our side.
Mum then just stood up and said, ‘You know your problem? You need to get fucked.’ Then she turned to me and Aimee and said: ‘Come on we’re going.’
We couldn’t believe what had just happened. We were absolutely pissing ourselves laughing.
As we walked across the car park to where Mum had parked she said to us, ‘That’s it. We’re going to America to be with your dad.’
CHAPTER FOUR
BECOMING AMERICANISED
I’d pretty much come to the conclusion quite early on that Beverly Hills was not real life .
A FTER being brought up in rural Buckinghamshire where the most exciting place to hang out was Pizza Hut, I couldn’t believe my luck when we moved to Los Angeles in the summer of 1998.
We’d spent periods of times there during the holidays when we were kids, but this time was different because I was thirteen and could really appreciate the massive shopping malls and movie theatres that were all just five minutes away. Everything was local and twenty-four hours and quick, quick, quick! You want a pizza at 3 a.m.? No fucking problem.
Our move to
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