My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece

by Annabel Pitcher

  Leo came over for tea tonight. Dad made pizza. They were ones from the shop but he chopped up bits of ham and poured a tin of pineapple over the top to make them tropical. Mum used to do that. At the table there wasn’t much conversation. Dad was ignoring Leo and Leo looked nervous and I could tell Jas felt awkward too. She kept asking questions she’s asked me before. She said So how’s football going, even though I told her last week that there weren’t any matches until after Christmas. And then she said What’s your Headmaster like, but she knows better than me ’cos she talked to him on the phone. I answered everything as well as I could though. She was just desperate for some noise other than knives scraping on plates and Dad sighing at Leo’s green hair.

  After tea, Leo kept saying Thank you and That was great, really great like we’d had a feast instead of supermarket pizzas. And Dad grunted something I couldn’t hear and it made me cross ’cos Granny says Manners cost nothing. Jas took Leo by the hand and Dad’s eyes popped out of his head when she pulled him towards the stairs. He said I don’t think so and pointed to the lounge. Jas’s face was like one of those cooked tomatoes you get in Full English Breakfasts in Spain. I felt sorry for her but I was being respectful so I didn’t say a word and just helped Dad do the dishes. He washed everything too hard and bubbles slopped over the sink. I wanted to ask why he was cross but I didn’t dare. So instead I told him about Moses and the stone, but he walked off before I’d finished and went to get a beer.

  LAST NIGHT I dreamed about Sunya. I kept asking to see her hair and I tried to touch the hijab but she ducked out of the way and pulled it around her head. I asked again. And again. Begging and begging and more and more desperate, but every time I asked, the hijab got tighter and her face got smaller until it covered everything except one of her eyes. Her eye didn’t sparkle but just stared and stared and then turned into a mouth that said Go back to London. When I woke up, my body was sweaty and my hair was sticky and I missed Sunya so much my heart ached.

  In the car on the way to school, Dad was saying No and Jas was sulking. She kept saying But you said Okay and Dad said To having a boyfriend, not to going on dates. She said We just want to go to the cinema and he said Leo’s got green hair. And Jas said So what and Dad said It’s strange and Jas replied It’s not and I agreed but kept my mouth shut. Dad said Boys who dye their hair are a bit – and then he paused. Jas glared. Are a bit WHAT exactly she shouted and I prayed to God to throw down another rock to knock Dad out and shut him up. He said They’re a bit girly and she said You mean GAY and Dad replied You said it, not me.

  Then there was silence and it went on and on until Jas said Stop the car. And Dad said Don’t be ridiculous and Jas screamed Stop the EFFING car. Dad pulled up and someone beeped. Jas jumped out. She slammed the door and she was crying and Dad was shouting and the windows were getting all steamy. Someone beeped again. Dad looked in his rear view mirror and said Don’t tell me what to do in my own country. I wiped the glass and looked behind to see Sunya in the car with her mum. Dad drove off too fast leaving Jas in the rain and he was going on and on about Pakis, about how they don’t work and just sit at home all day taking money off the Government before blowing up the country that’s keeping them alive.

  And all of a sudden as we swerved around a sheep eating grass by the road, the ninth commandment boomed in my brain. You must not give false evidence against your neighbour. Yesterday when Mrs Farmer asked what this meant, Daniel put up his hand and said Don’t tell lies about your neighbours.

  I sat up in my seat. Don’t tell lies. My heart beat a lot faster. About your neighbours. The radio came on and the music was loud but all I could hear were the lies that Dad told. All Muslims are murderers. Too lazy to learn English. Make bombs in their bedroom. My heart suddenly stopped. Dad’s been giving False Evidence. And Sunya only lives two miles away. So he broke the commandment ’cos it says Don’t tell lies about your neighbours not Don’t tell lies about your next-door neighbours, which would have been different.

  The car pulled up outside school and Dad said You getting out then and I nodded but my body did not move. Dad’s been giving False Evidence. Hurry up he snapped, watching the windscreen wipers slosh rain from side to side. I unfastened my seat belt. Climbed out of the car. Dad drove off without saying goodbye. And as the car sped down the lane, I raised my middle finger towards the sky. Two rings were wrapped around it instead of one, the white and brown stones almost touching. I swore at God and I swore at Moses. Then I tilted my hand and swore at Dad and broke rule five and it felt good. The car disappeared around a corner as I ran into school to find Sunya.

  Mrs Farmer said Because it’s nearly Christmas, we will be starting work on the birth of Jesus. Everyone groaned and I could tell that this school was the same as my last one. In London we did Jesus every December and we acted out the stable bit for all the mums and dads who must’ve got bored of seeing the same play over and over again. So far I have been a sheep and the back end of a donkey and the star of Bethlehem, but never ever a person. Mrs Farmer said It is important to understand The True Meaning Of Christmas and I quietly sang We three kings of Leicester Square, Selling ladies underwear, It’s fantastic, Loads of elastic, Why dont you buy a pair. Sunya didn’t even smile.

  Mrs Farmer said We are going to write the story of The Lord’s birth from Jesus’ point of view. Jesus wouldn’t have seen anything apart from the inside of Mary’s tummy, lots of straw and a few hairy nostrils when the shepherds peeped into the cot. But then Mrs Farmer said This is the Most Important piece of work you’ll do all year. I want you to try your best so I can give it a good grade and show it to your mums and dads at Parents’ Evening. I wrote four pages before Mrs Farmer said Put your pens down. Mum’s going to love it, especially when the inside of Mary’s tummy glows bright red with the light of the angel Gabriel, who in my story I have made a lady in case Dad reads it at Parents’ Evening. If he thinks boys with green hair are gay, I don’t know what he’d say about a man with wings.

  I ripped a page out of my sketchbook and scribbled a note to Sunya. It said Meet me in the storeroom at playtime and I drew a smiley face that had devil’s horns with my special pencils. She read the note but her face did not move. When we were allowed outside, I quickly ran to the receptionist’s office but I didn’t hold Mrs Williams at gun point and demand she hand over all the chocolate bars or anything. I bought a Crunchie with my money from Granny and then sprinted outside and disappeared through the hidden door.

  I bounced a tennis ball fifty one times before I realised that Sunya wasn’t coming. I was annoyed with her for being a sulky girl so I tore open the Crunchie and was about to take a big bite when I stopped myself. My mouth was watering like crazy but I wrapped the chocolate up again and put it down my sock ’cos I didn’t have pockets in my trousers. In Maths I wrote Sunya another note and asked her to meet me in the storeroom at lunchtime. This time I put Please and P.S. I’ve got a surprise for you to try and make her come.

  I ate my sandwiches sitting on a football. It kept rolling around and it was difficult to balance and I dropped one of my crusts on the floor. Every time something creaked, and even when nothing did, my heart exploded and my right leg twitched and my mouth felt too dry to swallow the bread. My eyes were glued to the crack of light by the door. I kept hoping that it would grow into a square and Sunya would be standing there, a silhouette against the sun, but the handle didn’t turn and the door stayed closed.

  I grabbed a tennis racquet and smacked a ball against the wall. I did it again. And again and again and again. Faster and harder every single time. Sweat trickled down my back and my breath was noisy and then there was a tap on my shoulder and I missed the ball and it whacked me in the face. Sunya said Are you okay and I knew it should have hurt but I didn’t feel anything except happy to see her.

  I nodded and took her ring off my middle finger. I held it out and she stared at it and stared at it and didn’t say anything for a million years. So I said Put it on then and sh
e said Is that it and I said Is that what and she shook her head and walked off. She was at the door when I shouted Don’t go and she said Why not and I said The surprise. I pulled down my sock and offered her the Crunchie.

  The look on her face was exactly the same as the one I gave Roger when he brought me the dead rabbit. She turned up her nose, stormed out of the storeroom and slammed the door in my face. The walls shook and everything went dark. I looked down at my hand. The Crunchie was all squished and gooey and there were bits of white fluff stuck in the melted chocolate.

  I looked around the storeroom for something to give her. The only interesting-looking present was a javelin and that would have been too big to sneak out without being seen by the fat dinner lady. The storeroom was no fun on my own so I went outside into the rain and something yellow caught my eye. I had an idea.

  There was ten minutes of lunchtime left. I walked around the playground trying to find Sunya with the new surprise hidden behind my back. I saw her with Daniel and for a millisecond I felt jealous but then I realised they were arguing. I stayed back ’cos I didn’t want to get beaten up but I heard Daniel say Curry Germs and You stink before running off. I went over to her and my palms were all damp and my heart was jumping up against my ribs like Sammy the dog at Sunya’s gate. I said Ta da and held out the flowers I’d just picked. And though most of them were dandelions, they looked really good so I was surprised when she started to cry.

  Sunya is strong and Sunya is Girl M and Sunya is sunshine and smiles and sparkle. But this Sunya looked different and the dog in my chest had a droopy sad tail. What’s wrong I asked and she just shook her head. Tears trickled down her cheeks one after the other after the other and she sniffed and bit her wobbly lip. I said Do you want them then and it came out too loud as if I was mad at her or something, when really I was just cross with Daniel for making her cry and ruining my surprise. She snatched the flowers out of my hand and threw them on the floor. Then she stamped on them as hard as she could and dragged her foot back so the petals smeared all over the playground. I do NOT want your stupid flowers or your stupid chocolate she shouted, and I was stuck ’cos I couldn’t think of anything else to give her. So I said Well, what do you want then and she yelled For you to SAY SORRY.

  I looked at her then, really looked at her, and she glared back with a hurt that was big and raw and real. And all of a sudden my eyes could see all the bad things I’d done and my ears could hear all the nasty things I’d said. I remembered running away when she offered me the ring. I remembered saying Just leave me alone outside the Headmaster’s office. I remembered walking off at Halloween, saying Shut up after football, and ignoring her for no reason after I’d been to her house. Well, not for no reason. I was trying to get into Heaven at the time, but that’s not a good enough excuse.

  I grabbed her hand and Daniel shouted Sissy Spider-Man’s caught Curry Germs but I ignored him. I said I’m sorry and I meant it and Sunya nodded but did not smile.

  I ASKED SUNYA if she wanted to walk home but she said No thanks. She was my friend again ’cos she borrowed my special pencils to draw a map in Geography, but it didn’t feel the same. I told three jokes including the number one most funny Knock Knock joke of all time and she didn’t even laugh. And when I gave her the Blu-Tack ring in History, she put it in her pencil case instead of on her finger.

  It took me ages to walk home. My feet and bag felt heavier than normal. Roger jumped out of a bush when I was two minutes from the cottage so I said Sorry to him as well. Hunting is what cats do and I shouldn’t get mad when he kills stuff. He followed me home and we sat in the porch for a long time, my back against the door and Roger’s back against the floor, his orange paws stuck up in the air. I dangled a shoe lace and he played with it and meowed like he’d forgotten all about our argument. I wish girls were as simple as cats.

  The house felt different when I went inside. Empty. Dark. Rain splattered the windows and the radiators were freezing. Food wasn’t cooking in the kitchen and Dad didn’t say How was your day. Even though this has only happened a few times, I’ve started to get used to it so the grey silence scared me. I wanted to shout Dad but I was afraid of hearing nothing so I started to whistle and turn on the lights. I was worried there might be a note on the table in the kitchen saying I can’t do this any more. There wasn’t, but I couldn’t see Dad anywhere either.

  That’s when I noticed the cellar door. It was open. Not much. Only a crack. It was dark down there. I flicked the light switch. Nothing happened. I kept thinking about Candyman so I got a wooden spoon out of the kitchen drawer, just in case. Then I realised that a wooden spoon wouldn’t be much use against a hook and I swapped it for a corkscrew. I walked down the first step. My toes ached on the cold concrete. Dad I whispered. No answer. I walked down the second step. In the bottom of the cellar, I could see a yellow beam from a torch. Dad I said again. Are you down there. Someone was breathing heavily. I lowered my foot slowly onto step three but then I couldn’t hack it any more and I charged.

  We’d been robbed. That was the only explanation. I couldn’t even see the cellar floor it was covered by so much stuff. Photos and books and clothes and toys and Dad’s legs dangling out of a big box. How did they get in I asked, balancing on the last step ’cos there was nowhere else to put my feet. I hadn’t seen any smashed windows. Who did this. Dad was leaning right inside the box when I spotted the writing on the side of the cardboard. SACRED. Dad’s arms were moving about and his hand found something and flung it over his head into the air and onto the floor. You did I whispered.

  Dad popped out of the box. He looked pale in the light of the torch and his black hair was sticking up. A badge hung from his stained shirt saying I Am Seven Today. Found it he said, waving a painting in the air. Brilliant, isn’t it. It wasn’t even a picture, just five blobs on a crumpled piece of paper, but I bit my tongue and nodded. They are so small, James. Look how small they are.

  I stepped over a shoe with a buckle and a small flowery dress and an old birthday card that had a badge missing. I leaned closer. The blobs turned into handprints. There were two big ones with Mum and Dad written inside, two small ones with Jas and Rose written inside, and a tiny one with my name inside. They were in a circle around a heart and in the heart someone had written Happy Father’s Day. Probably Mum, ’cos it was all neat.

  It’s a nice picture but kissing it was a bit much. Dad’s lips pressed against Jas’s hands then Rose’s hands then Jas’s hands again. Beautiful names he said in this quivery voice that got on my nerves. Jasmine and Rose. He stroked the twins’ old handprints. This is how I remember them. I felt confused and said Jas’s still alive, but Dad didn’t hear. His head had flopped into his hands and his shoulders were shaking. I got a strong urge to laugh ’cos he kept hiccupping really loud and really high but I swallowed it back down and tried to think of sad things like war and those kids in Africa that have fat bellies, even though they don’t eat anything.

  Dad was saying something but it was all covered in snot and tears so the only words I could make out were Always and My little girls. Jas is big and beautiful and pink and pierced and Dad is missing out if he wishes she was still ten years old.

  Granny says People always want what they can’t have and I reckon it’s true. Dad wants Rose to be alive and Jas to be ten, but he’s got me. I am the right age but the wrong sex, Jas is the right sex but the wrong age, and Rose is the right age and the right sex. But she is dead. Some people are never satisfied is something else Granny says.

  Jas didn’t come home until eleven so I had to do all the things she normally does. I cleaned the toilet after Dad was sick and I put him into bed. He tucked the Father’s Day picture under the covers and something painful twisted in my tummy. He fell asleep quickly. His whole face wobbled as he snored and I got him a glass of water for later. I watched him for about a minute and then I went into my bedroom and sat on the windowsill with the information about Britain’s Biggest Talent Show. Roger was purring so
hard his throat felt warm and buzzy on my toes. The top of the letter said Come to Manchester to change your life and I imagined me and Jas going to the theatre and walking onto the stage and singing for the judges in front of loads of TV cameras. I could see Mum’s face in the audience and she was sitting next to Dad and they were holding hands ’cos they were proud of us. They’d forgotten all about the arguments and they’d forgotten all about Rose and it didn’t matter one bit that Jas had grown up and changed. After the competition, Mum phoned Nigel and said I am leaving you. She even called him a bastard and we all laughed and got into the same car and went back to the same house. Dad threw away his alcohol. Mum said You look great in your t-shirt and I could finally take it off and put on a pair of pyjamas. Then I lay in bed and Mum tucked me under the covers like she used to before she ran off with the man from the support group one hundred and sixty eight days ago.

  Mrs Farmer walked into the classroom in a black suit that was too small. Her tummy hung over the top of the trousers and it looked pale and squidgy like pastry dough. She said Good morning my dears and it sounded different, too soft and too friendly. She said Let’s wake up our minds and we had to stand up and do these strange things with our arms that make the different parts of our brains work really hard. I was just wondering if Mrs Farmer had gone mental when a man with a clipboard walked into the classroom. Mrs Farmer said This is Mr Price and he is from Ofsted.

  On the board Mrs Farmer wrote something called a Learning Objective and went on and on about our target for the morning. I could tell she was trying to impress Mr Price from the way she kept glancing at him, but he didn’t smile. He had long fingers and a long chin and a long nose with a pair of glasses right at the very end. We were doing Jesus again and we had to work in pairs and make the nativity scene out of clay. One person had to make the people and the crib and the other person had to do the stable and the animals.