you read it, Cookie?' 'I think my sister did. I read the Jennings books. And William. They didn't tell you about stars. I know all about space though, from Dan Dare in the Eagle comic.' 'Well, we're both well-informed then,' I said as we got to the beach. The sea sucked at the sands, the shushing sound seeming louder at night. I slipped off my heels and stepped onto the beach. 'The sand feels so much colder now,' I said. 'We won't go for a paddle then, we don't want to freeze,' said Cookie. 'You're not too cold now, are you, Jacky?' He put his arm round me. 'Here, I'll warm you up a bit.' 'I'm fine,' I said, snuggling into him. 'This is lovely. I've never been for a moonlit walk before.' 'I like walking in the dark. There's this graveyard near where I live. When I was a little kid it spooked me out and I thought there were all these ghosts hanging round the gravestones. I felt embarrassed I was so scared. I even had nightmares about it, so one day I forced myself to go there by myself. I was actually shaking like a leaf, but when I got in the graveyard it was fine. It was so peaceful, and I just walked around touching all the gravestones, and ever since then I like to cut through the graveyard and have a little quiet time there. Do you think I'm a bit crazy?' 'No, I think you're the most interesting boy I've ever met,' I said truthfully. 'No, I'm not, I can't be – but you're definitely the most interesting girl I've ever met,' said Cookie, and he stopped and kissed me. We didn't quite have the beach to ourselves. There was a dim glow from a barbecue party down at one end, and several mad surfers were yelling in the water. 'Come with me,' said Cookie, and we went into the caves. It was so dark I couldn't see anything at all. I had to cling to Cookie and he clung to me, and then we were kissing and whispering and wishing we could stay there for ever. Neither of us had watches. It was very very late when we eventually walked back up the beach towards the hotel.
'So I suppose this is goodbye,' Cookie said. 'Oh, I wish it wasn't,' I said, putting my arms round his neck. 'I've scribbled my address – here,' said Cookie, tucking a piece of paper into my pocket. 'Will you write to me?' 'Of course I will!' 'And we'll maybe meet up again next summer?' "Yes!' 'And you won't ever forget me?' 'I'll never ever forget you,' I said, and then we kissed goodbye for the last time. I did write to him, of course, a long long letter, page after page of my innermost thoughts. He wrote back to me, just two sides of paper, but he addressed me as 'Darling Jacky' and signed it 'Love from Cookie'. I wrote again. I had to wait a week or more before I got an answer, just a postcard this time, with a lot of boring stuff about his school. I wrote a proper letter – and then another – and another. Eventually I got a letter back – from his mother! She was very sweet, and said how the whole family had enjoyed meeting me and that Cookie was very fond of me – 'but I'm afraid he's not very good at writing letters'. I wrote back to thank her. And that was it. I never heard from Cookie again, and we didn't go back to Cornwall the following summer. I was heartbroken. So what did I do? I wrote about it. The next year I started a new, more elaborate journal. I wrote in it in February 1961: Ever since last Summer I've been trying to write a novel. This was vaguely based on last summer holiday, and dealt with Cookie in detail. I was convinced that I was writing what was to become a great classic, and dabbled around with it at the weekends and in the evenings. I now know that it was only very adolescent escapism. I had no boyfriend or anything, and in the Summer I had spent a nice week with Cookie, so I unconsciously comforted myself by my very infantile book about my 'adult' experience. I was pretty hard on myself! I wish I still had that story now. Later, in
April, writing in my diary I said: Hello. I've nothing much to write about as today was so quiet and ordinary, so I'll write down anything that comes into my head. The nice thing about keeping this diary is that I write about everything without being laughed at; I can write down secrets with no fear of them being told; I can just scribble away to my heart's content. I don't even have to worry about writing or spelling because I don't mind a bit if I'm untidy. You get a lovely sense of freedom this way. It's funny, I'm getting very enthusiastic about diary writing, and yet when I was on holiday I decided to give it up. I'm still terribly conceited – I thought I would write a full length novel based on my Bruges holiday [a school trip that Easter, my first time abroad]. All this time and I'm still not cured. After several attempts to begin I wisely admitted defeat and returned to you. But I'm still not crushed – I'm going to write a book, but not yet, because 15 is too young, too immature. After all, I wanted to write a book at 14, about last summer. I thought I knew it all; now my attitude has changed completely and I feel much more grown up, and yet not so superior. I know I'm just a silly little fool, probably with absolutely no gift for writing at all, yet that doesn't prevent me from trying. I've got to be a writer and nothing else.
Join the Free online Jacqueline Wilson FAN CLUB Read jacqueline's monthly diary, look up tour info, receive fan club enewsletters. All this and more, including a fab message board, members' jokes and loads of exclusive top offers Visit www.jacquelinewilson.co.uk for more info!
JACQUELINE WILSON was born in Bath in 1945, but has spent most of her life in Kingston-upon-Thames, Surrey. She always wanted to be a writer and wrote her first 'novel' when she was nine, filling countless Woolworths' exercise books as she grew up. She started work at a publishing company and then went on to work as a journalist on Jackie magazine (which was named after her) before turning to writing fiction full-time. Since 1990 Jacqueline has written prolifically for children and has won many of the top awards for children's books, including the Guardian Children's Fiction Award, the Smarties Prize, the Red House Book Award and the Children's Book of the Year. Jacqueline was awarded an OBE in the Queen's Birthday Honours list in 2002 and was made a Dame in 2008. She was the Children's Laureate in 2005—2007. She is the most borrowed author of all from British libraries and an astounding twentyfive million copies of her books have now been sold in the UK. An avid reader herself, Jacqueline has a personal col lection of many, many thousands of books. She has one grown-up daughter.
Everybody knows Tracy Beaker, Jacqueline Wilson's best-loved character. But what do they know about Jacqueline herself? In this fascinating book, discover . . . . . . how Jacky dealt with an unpredictable father, like Prue in Love Lessons. . . . how she chose new toys in Hamleys, like Dolphin in The Illustrated Mum. . . . how she sat entrance exams, like Ruby in Double Act. But most of all discover how Jacky loved reading and writing stories. From the very first story she wrote, it was clear that this little girl had a vivid imagination. But who would've guessed that she would grow up to be a bestselling, award-winning author! Includes previously unseen photos, Jacqueline's own school reports and a brand new chapter from Jacqueline on the response to the book, her
teenage years and more!