My Sister Jodie (33 page)

‘It's not funny, girls!' Dad said sorrowfully. ‘Don't be like that, Pearl. And Jodie, oh dear, Jodie, what are we going to do with you, eh?' He sat down on her bed and she cuddled up to him.

‘Mum keeps nagging at me, Dad.'

‘Well, you're such a bad girl, and you keep doing such crazy things. You shouldn't cheek your mum the way you do. It really upsets her, and she's having a tough time as it is. This has been a big strain for her and she's having to cope with all sorts.'

‘That's not
my
fault. I never wanted to come to this stupid school in the first place.'

‘Now, now, it's not stupid, it's a lovely school. You just need to settle down and try a bit harder with your lessons. You're a bright girl. You both are. Not like your old dad! I'm as thick as two short planks. I always came bottom at school, apart from woodwork. But you could really do well, Jodie, if you'd only try.'

His foot nudged one of the boxes Jodie had shoved under her bed. She'd still not bothered to unpack properly. He pulled it out, sighed at all the junk, and then picked out her old wooden rocket.

‘My goodness, you've still got this old thing!' he said, smiling. ‘You were always such an odd little kid. A rocket, eh! Not that it looks much like one, I must admit.' He gave her a gentle poke with the nose of the rocket. ‘So how about being my little rocket girl? Don't you want to work hard and fly all the way to the moon?'

Jodie seized the rocket and went whirring round the room with it, making childish
pow!
noises. Dad shook his head at her.

‘I give up,' he said. He looked at me and raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh well, just so long as you're happy, Jodie. I suppose that's all that matters.'

Dad didn't seem to get that Jodie
wasn't
happy. She laughed loudly and clowned around but her face didn't light up and her eyes were dead. She steered clear of Jed, never even nodding in his direction, but I knew she was missing him terribly.

I took
Heidi
back to Mrs Wilberforce and told her that Jodie was no longer keeping company with Jed.

‘That's good,' said Mrs Wilberforce.

‘Yes, I suppose so. But Jodie doesn't see it like that. She's not very happy.'

‘She's not making poor Mr Michaels very happy either. He came to tea the other day and seemed at his wits' end. I felt sorry for the poor man. He's teaching Harley, who's much cleverer than all of us put together, and Jodie, who's going out of her way
to be disruptive. So Pearl, she's being really really bad – what is Jodie
good
at?'

I thought hard.

‘She's good at heaps and heaps of things. She's funny and she makes up wonderful stories and she's always looked after me and made sure I'm safe. That's what she's totally best at, being my big sister.'

Mrs Wilberforce nodded. ‘Mmm. That's a splendid testimony. Well, I shall ponder that. Now, perhaps you might fancy borrowing a book about sisters? Let me see – you must have read
Little Women
?'

‘Well, I've heard of it, but I've never really got round to reading it,' I said.

‘It's a
lovely
book. You'll especially like the relationship between Jo and Beth. Oh, you lucky girl, to be reading
Little Women
for the first time. Which book are you reading in class at the moment?'

‘Oh, it's not like your lovely books, it's about nowadays. It's a story about twins. I've read it before, but it's so sad – they break friends, and then one of them goes off to boarding school and the other doesn't and it
ends
there. I wanted it to end with them living together again and never ever being separated.'

‘Maybe you could write your own new ending for the story?' said Mrs Wilberforce. ‘Are you still writing your journal?'

‘Oh yes,' I lied. I hadn't been able to bear writing about the badger cub dying and all the sad things since.

Mrs Wilberforce was watching my face. ‘What about you, Pearl? I know you're doing brilliantly in class. Mrs Lewin waxes lyrical about you.'

‘Really?' I said, blushing.

‘And she says you've made lots of friends too.'

‘Yes, well, sort of,' I said. ‘I especially like Harriet.'

‘So why don't you run off to the girls' house now and play with Harriet for a bit?'

I hadn't ever gone calling for Harry before. We sat next to each other in class and we chatted together at play time, but I always went back to our flat after tea. I felt stupidly shy of going to find her. What if she didn't really want to see me?

‘Off you go!' said Mrs Wilberforce.

‘Am I allowed?' I asked pathetically. ‘I mean, the matron won't mind?'

‘You're not frightened of Matron, are you, Pearl?' said Mrs Wilberforce, laughing at me.

‘I'm frightened of everyone,' I said.

‘Are you frightened of
me
?'

I hesitated. She burst out laughing, but then she covered her mouth with her good hand, looking concerned.

‘The little children are frightened of me, I know. Because of the wheelchair and the way I look now.'

‘No, no,' I argued awkwardly.

‘Yes, yes. And it's so sad, because I used to teach the little ones and they were always so sweet. Some of the boarders used to call me Mummy. I'd go and tuck them up at night and read them a story. Matron's very good with them but she doesn't have the time, she's got so much else on her plate.'

‘Perhaps you could still go along, in your wheelchair?'

‘No, it's too awkward, and the littlest ones are up on the first floor. I'm not up for that sort of stuff any
more anyway. I just can't make the effort. But maybe . . .' She smiled at me. ‘I've had a little idea. I'll mull it over. Now off you go. Bravely beard Matron in her den and ask if you can play with Harriet.'

Beard was the appropriate word for poor Matron. She didn't have a
real
beard, but she had whiskers on her chin and heavy down on her upper lip. She was fat, but she squashed her very large chest and stomach and bottom into some kind of corset so that she didn't wobble when she walked. She had surprisingly slim legs with elegant ankles and little pointy shoes. She looked like a well-upholstered sofa on tiny wheels.

I'd always scuttled out of her way, imagining she'd be ultra-scary. The door to the girls' house was open so I wandered in uncertainly. I knew Sakura's bedroom was upstairs but I didn't have a clue where to look for Harriet.

I could hear laughter and a television somewhere but I didn't like to barge in uninvited. I stood shifting from one foot to the other until Matron suddenly shot out of a room at the end of the corridor, balancing an enormous pile of pillowcases and sheets and duvet covers. She peered at me from over the top.

‘Ah! You're Mr and Mrs Well's little girl . . . Jodie?'

‘No, I'm Pearl.'

‘Yes, that's right, Jodie's the one with startling hair. Lucky she's not boarding with me. I'd have held her under a hot tap until I'd scrubbed all that purple out.'

‘Mum tried that,' I said.

‘Oh dear. Perhaps it's indelible, like those pencils. They're purple, aren't they? Anyway, my darling, how can I help?'

I wondered if I could play with Harriet?' I asked timidly.

‘Of course you can, you silly sausage! Her dorm's on the second floor. You'll find it easily because it's the noisiest, what with Harriet gassing and poor little Freya grizzling and Sheba singing and Clarissa showing off.' She laughed fondly. ‘You can carry these sheets up for me and pop them in the airing cupboard, there's a darling.'

I staggered up the stairs, found the airing cupboard, stuffed the sheets in as best I could – and then listened. Matron was right. I could hear all the girls laughing and playing very loud music. I went over to their door, wondering whether to knock or just stick my head in. I licked my lips, rehearsing in my head what I was going to say.

Can I play with you?
sounded so young, like I was six and wanting to play with Barbies. In the end I tapped once on the door. The music stopped. I heard squeals and giggles and a lot of scuffling. I waited, heart beating. Then Harriet opened the door a few centimetres.

‘Oh, Pearl, it's only
you
! Come in, come in,' she said, grabbing hold of me and pulling me into the dorm. ‘We thought you might be Matron!'

Harry had a dressing gown on and the other three were in bed, their duvets up to their chins.

‘Oh, sorry! I didn't realize you went to bed this early,' I stammered.

‘We're not in bed. We're hiding,' said Clarissa, jumping up from under her duvet. She wore her
knickers and a silk scarf tied round her chest and fishnet stockings on her skinny legs. I stared at her open-mouthed.

‘We're playing at being lap dancers,' she said.

‘Well, I'm a
fan
dancer,' said Sheba, kicking off her duvet. She was wearing her swimming costume and had a big feathery fan in her hand.

‘I'm a dancer too,' said Freya. She wore a proper bikini and she'd crayoned roses and hearts around her belly button.

‘Tra-la!' said Harry, flinging off her dressing gown. She was wearing her school knickers and a little lacy bolero over her flat chest. She twirled around, bumping and grinding her hips. ‘You do it like this, don't you, Pearl? Funny old Freya thought lap dancing was actually dancing in someone's
lap
, but they'd get all squashed, wouldn't they?'

‘You don't think we're terribly
rude
, do you, Pearl?' Freya asked anxiously.

‘Don't tell Matron!' said Sheba.

‘Of course I won't. Look, my sister Jodie and I often mess around like this. Hey, it was soooo embarrassing when we first moved here. We were painting our room and getting all messy so we stripped off down to our knickers, and guess what,
Harley
walked right in and saw us!'

‘Harley saw you in your knickers!'

They all exploded with laughter.

‘Did he see your sister too?' asked Clarissa.

‘Yes, but she didn't mind. She doesn't get fussed about stuff,' I said.

‘I'll say,' said Clarissa.

I swallowed. ‘What do you mean by that?'

‘She didn't mean
anything
, Pearl,' said Harriet.

‘I just meant that your sister truly doesn't seem to care about anything. My cousin Anna's in Year Eight and she says she's . . . incredible.'

‘Yeah, well, that's Jodie,' I said.

I stared hard at Clarissa, silently daring her to say any more.

‘You're so different from your sister,' said Freya.

‘I know,' I said. ‘I wish I was more like her.'

‘I'm glad you're like you,' said Harry. ‘OK, are you going to lap dance too, Pearl?'

I felt a total fool, but I dared to whip off my skirt and shoes, and then I pranced about a bit, winking and wriggling, copying the way Jodie danced. The others all laughed and clapped and joined in.

When we got tired of lap dancing, I suggested we pretend we were a new girl band and we made up our own dance routine. Matron really did come knocking on the door because of all the thumping, but she didn't come in, she just called out for us to quieten down because she was starting to put the little ones to bed.

I decided I'd better get back myself. Harry begged me to come and play with them the next day.

‘It's such fun when you're here, Pearl,' said Harry, giving me a hug. ‘I wish you were a proper boarder and could sleep in our dormie.'

I almost wished it too. I skipped back along the path, waving at the bungalow in case Mrs Wilberforce could see me. I slowed down when I got near the little trail to the badger set. There was a brown smudge on the lane which might have been blood from the poor badger cub. I went to see if Harley was crouching by the set, but there was no one there. I went and knelt by the main entrance.

‘I'm so sorry,' I whispered into the darkness. ‘You must be missing your cub so much. I hope you have lots and lots more children and they all live long happy lives.'

Then I went back to our flat. Mum had a bad migraine headache and had gone to bed early. Dad was watching sport on the television, his shoes kicked off, his belt unbuckled. He was sipping beer straight from the can and eating a packet of salted peanuts.

‘Don't tell Mum!' he mouthed.

Jodie wasn't in our bedroom. I didn't know where she could be. I wondered if she might be taking Old Shep for another walk. I waited and waited. It was past our bedtime now. Mum was asleep, thank goodness. I crept into the living room and saw that Dad had nodded off too, his hand lolling over the arm of his chair so that the dregs of his beer can dripped onto the carpet.

I wanted to climb up onto Dad's lap, but if I woke him, he'd fuss about Jodie, maybe even wake Mum. I tiptoed back to our bedroom, worrying about the back door. When Dad woke up, he'd bolt it and then Jodie would be locked out all night. It was raining outside. I could hear raindrops pattering steadily against the window. I thought of Jodie trudging through the dark, getting drenched.

She slipped into our bedroom at long last. I threw my arms around her in relief. She was warm and bone dry.

‘Where have you
been
?'

‘Just around and about,' she said vaguely.

‘But where? I was so worried. I wish you wouldn't go off without me.'

‘
You
do!' said Jodie. ‘I went to meet you at the Wilberforce house but you weren't anywhere. What were you up to? Badger-watching with Harley?'

‘No.' I hesitated. I felt so guilty having friends when Jodie didn't. ‘I was just playing with Harriet.'

‘What, she came calling for you?'

‘No, I went to the girls' house.'