My Sister Jodie

by Jacqueline Wilson

  ‘ Jodie! I’m not doing that!’ I said.

  ‘No, yuck, don’t kiss me, I hate kisses,’ said Zeph.

  ‘No one in their right mind would kiss you –

  you’ve got half your tea all round your face,’ said Jodie scathingly. ‘Come on, Pearl, get kissing.’

  I looked wildly around the room. My eyes swiv-elled past Harley. I didn’t didn’t didn’t dare kiss him.

  ‘I’ll do the forfeit,’ I said, and I took off a shoe.

  ‘OK, I’ll do it,’ said Jodie. She sauntered towards Harley, tapping her high-heeled shoes.

  He folded his arms defensively, one eyebrow raised. Jodie stood in front of him, lips in a pout, but then she veered around him and skittered across the floor to Dad. He was squatting down, sorting through his CD collection. She gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek, taking him so by surprise that he keeled over onto his bottom.

  ‘Hey, hey, why the sudden affection?’ he said, grinning at Jodie.

  ‘Well, you’re a lovely old dad,’ said Jodie.

  ‘Your dad isn’t a boy,’ said Dan. ‘That’s cheating, Jodie!’

  ‘No, it’s not. It’s my game and I make up the rules and it’s only cheating if I say so,’ said Jodie. ‘OK, Dan, it’s your turn next. Dare someone.’

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  ‘I dare Pearl to stand on her head,’ said Dan.

  ‘That’s not fair, choosing me again!’ I said.

  ‘It’s your birthday, Pearl. Of course we all want to pick you,’ said Jodie. ‘Come on, stand on your head.’

  ‘No!’ I said.

  ‘You can do it,’ said Jodie.

  ‘ I can do it!’ said Dan. ‘My man can do it too, watch!’

  ‘No, wait, give Pearl a chance,’ said Jodie. She gave me a nudge. ‘Go on. You can stand on your head easy-peasy.’

  Of course I could stand on my head – but I was wearing my new short velvet skirt. The ruffles would flap upwards and show everyone my white knickers. I didn’t mind about Jodie, of course. I didn’t even mind too much about Zeph and Sakura and Dan, though they’d giggle. But I minded terribly about Harley.

  ‘I’m not going to stand on my head,’ I said, and I took my other shoe off.

  Dad looked up from his CDs. ‘This seems a bit of a silly game,’ he said.

  ‘No it’s not, Dad. It’s a great game, if Pearl would just play it properly,’ said Jodie. ‘Come on then, Dan, stand on your head.’

  Dan put his head on the floor and waggled his fat little legs in the air.

  ‘That’s rubbish,’ said Zeph. ‘Look at me.’

  He did a better headstand and kicked his legs in triumph. Too triumphantly. He fell over with a thump.

  ‘Now look!’ said Dad, running to him. ‘I said this was a silly game.’

  ‘No it’s not. I like this game,’ said Zeph, bouncing 226

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  up again. ‘I like standing on my head. I’m ace at it.

  All boys are but silly girls can’t.’

  ‘I can,’ said Sakura. She hitched up her ornate robe and did a perfect handstand, legs together, her toes neatly pointed. She held it steady for several seconds, her face going pink, and then sprang gracefully to her feet. She clapped her hands and bowed.

  ‘That was quite good, but mine was better,’ said Zeph. ‘Now it’s my turn to think of a dare.’ He whirled round and round for inspiration. He looked at the party table. ‘I know! Pearl, I dare you to put your head in the bowl of trifle.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Zeph, I’m not doing that,’ I said.

  ‘Which is it going to be then, Pearl? Your T-shirt or your skirt?’ said Jodie.

  ‘Now, then I don’t think we need to go that far,’

  said Dad. ‘Choose another dare, Zeph – that was a daft one.’

  ‘No, it was a brilliant one and I dare it,’ said Zeph, running to the table.

  Dad started running too but he wasn’t quite quick enough. Zeph plunged his head ear-deep in the trifle.

  ‘Oh Lordy,’ said Dad, seizing hold of him.

  Cream and custard and jelly lathered his curls and dripped down his forehead. He wiped his eyes, grinning.

  ‘See! I did the dare!’ he spluttered.

  Dad picked him up sideways and ran with him kitchenwards. ‘Stop the Dare Game this instant!’ he said.

  ‘I believe it’s my turn to choose a game,’ said Harley.

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  Jodie sighed and rolled her eyes. Harley started explaining how to play Countries. We all had to choose a country and stand on an imaginary world map. Then we had to whirl round while our Earth went spinning. Then Harley shouted, ‘Earthquake in Japan’ or ‘Monsoon in India’ or whatever, and the afflicted country had to erupt accordingly.

  Mostly the countries were pitted against each other, but every so often Harley would shout ‘Attack by Aliens’, and then we’d all have to join hands and stand shoulder to shoulder.

  I’m sure it could have been a good game, but Jodie kept messing about and Zeph (returned to us totally sluiced down) and Sakura and Dan kept forgetting which country they were, even though Harley made it easy enough for them: Zeph was Africa, Sakura Japan and Dan Britain. The game fell apart without anyone winning.

  ‘ My turn to choose the game now,’ said Jodie.

  ‘We’ll play Murder in the Dark.’

  ‘Definitely not,’ said Mum, who had come back into the dining room with Miss Ponsonby to keep an eye on us. Dad was washing up in the kitchen, in disgrace for not keeping an eye on Dan. ‘We’ve had enough of your silly games, Jodie.’

  ‘That’s not fair, Mum! Murder in the Dark is a proper party game,’ Jodie argued.

  ‘I think my children have gone a bit past party games,’ said Miss Ponsonby. ‘I’d better see them back to their houses now.’

  Jodie protested bitterly but I was relieved. Harley sloped off too, carrying little Dan on his shoulders.

  ‘Well, we’ll still party,’ said Jodie, putting the music on loudly.

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  She seized hold of me and we danced up and down the dining room, round and round until we were dizzy.

  ‘Good party, Pearl?’ Jodie yelled.

  ‘This is the best bit,’ I panted. ‘Just you and me.’

  ‘You funny girl,’ said Jodie, but she gave me a hug.

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  She disappeared and returned a minute later with two little badgers.

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  16

  Jodie and I played together in our bedroom all the next morning.

  ‘You are sooo lucky having me as a sister, Pearl.

  No one else would play all your pretend games with you. I’m the best at inventing stuff, aren’t I?’ said Jodie.

  We’d resurrected Mansion Towers and were cutting out new cardboard people to live there.

  ‘You’re too good at inventing. Don’t make any of your people murderers or ghosts, will you?’ I said.

  ‘No murderers. No ghosts. Nothing scary whatsoever, I promise, Pearly Girly,’ she said.

  She drew a Victorian man with a smiley mouth.

  Even his moustache had a cheerful upward twirl.

  ‘He’s called Mr Horace Happy and he’s just moved into Mansion Towers. He’s toddled into the kitchen and seen the cook being horrid to Kezia and 231

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  Pansy so he’s sent her packing. Now Kezia is the cook and she makes Horace ten different cakes every day because he’s so greedy. You draw and cut out Kezia and her cakes, Pearl. I’ll draw Pansy.

  Horace has taken such a shine to her. He employs little Flossie Floormop and Hettie
Hoover to do all the real housework while Pansy just gets to flick her feather duster around the parlour and share Horace’s cakes. He buys her a new dress every day so that she looks equally beguiling, and little button boots with very high heels.’

  ‘That’s not fair! Why should Pansy get all the new dresses and stuff when she hardly does any work?’

  ‘Because she’s extra nice to Horace. I’m sure Kezia could get new dresses too if she’d perch on his knee and feed him his fairy cakes.’

  ‘No, she’s not doing any of that!’

  ‘Oh well, Pansy will share her dresses anyway, as they’re total best friends. And if you like, Horace can get sooo greedy and eat hundreds of cakes every day until he blows up like a balloon and bursts. My, Flossie and Hettie have to labour from dawn till dusk to clear up every little yucky bit of him. But guess what! Old Horace has left all his money and Mansion Towers to lucky old Pansy, so she lives there happily ever after with her best friend Kezia, and they both have new dresses every day. Get some more paper and get designing the dresses, Pearl – you’re better at it than me. But make all Pansy’s dresses very low-cut and tight-waisted with very frilly skirts. I’ll have a crimson dress and a sky-blue one, and a canary silk and purple velvet for winter.’

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  Mum looked in on us to see what we were up to.

  ‘I don’t know, there’s you telling me how grown up you are now you’re eleven – yet look at you, cutting out paper dolls! Still, it’s good to see the two of you playing so nicely together.’

  I’d have been happy to play all day long but Jodie sloped off after lunch. She said she had to take Old Shep for a walk but she was gone a long time.

  I played with Mansion Towers by myself for a little while but it wasn’t so much fun without Jodie.

  I started reading What Katy Did instead. I raced through the first few chapters. Then I got to the part where Katy is warned not to go on the swing.

  I started to worry. Katy was such a Jodie-type girl.

  I knew she’d go on the swing regardless. I knew the ropes would break and she’d fall and hurt herself terribly . . .

  I didn’t want to read it. I snapped the book shut and slipped out of the back door. I went along the path to the woods and branched off near the badger set. I crept forward, and saw that Harley was already there. He was crouching down with a jar of honey, spreading it all over the leaves and twigs and tree roots. I blinked at him.

  ‘Harley?’

  He turned round, smiling. ‘Hi, Pearl.’

  ‘Harley, this is such an obvious question, but why are you spreading a pot of honey all over the ground?’

  ‘It’s a cunning ploy,’ said Harley. ‘Badgers like honey. If I smear enough around, they’ll come out of their set and stay out until they’ve licked up every morsel.’

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  ‘Oh, brilliant!’ I said, sitting down cross-legged, looking at the biggest hole expectantly.

  ‘They won’t come now, Pearl. Not till dusk, probably not till it gets really dark. We have to come back then.’

  I fidgeted. ‘I’m not sure Mum will let me,’ I said, shame-faced. ‘She’s ever so strict about bed time.’

  ‘Can’t you slip out by yourself?’ said Harley. He grinned at me. ‘I gave you a torch!’

  ‘Yes, I know, but—’ I didn’t want to tell him I was frightened of going out in the dark by myself.

  I wondered about Jodie.

  ‘ Don’t bring Jodie,’ said Harley, as if he could read my mind. ‘She’ll make far too much fuss and noise. She’d scare off a herd of wild warthogs, let alone a shy little badger.’

  ‘No she wouldn’t,’ I said, but I couldn’t help giggling. ‘I want to come on my own, but I don’t quite know how I’ll manage it. Jodie will want to know where I’m going. I can’t just slope off by myself.’

  ‘Why not? She does,’ said Harley. ‘Go on, Pearl, try.’

  ‘All right. I’ll try,’ I said.

  Harley smiled at me. He sat down beside me and offered me the honey jar. We both stuck our fingers in and licked out the remains of the honey compan-ionably.

  ‘Imagine badgers liking honey,’ I said. ‘I thought they just ate insects and stuff.’

  ‘I think they snaffle up anything tasty. They’re keen on peanut butter too.’

  ‘Now you are kidding me.’

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  ‘No, I read it in a book, honestly. Trust me. I am the Fount of all Knowledge.’

  ‘Is that the badger book or is it Jude the Obscure?’ I said, pointing to the fat paperback in his jacket pocket.

  ‘No, it’s The Old Curiosity Shop. I finished Jude.’

  ‘You read such hard books, Harley.’

  ‘Dickens is a tonic after Hardy. I’m greatly looking forward to the death of Little Nell.’

  ‘Harley! I hate sad books. I can’t even read about Katy falling off her swing in What Katy Did and yet I know it ends happily. I’ve had a peep at the end.’

  ‘So you’re a fairytale girl. You want happily-ever-after endings?’

  ‘Of course I do!’

  ‘I’ve never reckoned fairy tales. They always make the ugly guys the bad guys. If you’re freakily tall, then tough, you’re a wicked old giant and any number of young Jacks want to come along and kill you. You’re OK though. You’re little and pretty and you’ve got long fairy princess hair, so of course you’ll live happily ever after.’

  ‘I’m not pretty,’ I mumbled, feeling myself going pink.

  ‘You’re the prettiest girl in the whole school,’ said Harley.

  ‘Well, that’s only out of three, and Sakura’s only little and you don’t like Jodie so you wouldn’t pick her even though she’s heaps prettier than me.’

  ‘I meant the whole school during term time. And Jodie isn’t my idea of pretty – she’s too beady-eyed and bouncy. I do quite like her actually; she’s good fun in small doses, but you’re right, I like you much more.’

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  I wished Harley was a video so I could rewind him saying that again and again.

  I chanted, I like you much more inside my head all through tea. Afterwards in my bedroom I wrote in my new journal: Harley is an amazing boy. He is the nicest boy I’ve ever met. I like him a lot and he likes me too!

  ‘What’s that about Harley?’ said Jodie, leaning over and peering.

  ‘Don’t peer! This is a secret journal,’ I said, snapping it shut.

  ‘You don’t have any secrets from me,’ said Jodie.

  ‘You have lots of secrets so why can’t I?’ I said.

  ‘Well, I’m older,’ said Jodie.

  ‘You had secrets when you were eleven like me,’ I said.

  ‘OK, maybe I did, but I’m me and you’re you,’ said Jodie maddeningly.

  I waited until she went to the loo and then I quickly hid my diary at the bottom of my cardboard box of teddies. I whipped my jacket and jeans out of my wardrobe and hid them under my duvet. I got out my new birthday torch and hid that as well, jumping back on top of the duvet as Jodie came back in.

  ‘What?’ she said.

  ‘ What what?’

  ‘You look all funny,’ said Jodie.

  ‘I can’t help it if I look weird,’ I said. I opened Mrs Wilberforce’s copy of What Katy Did. ‘Ssh now, I want to read.’

  ‘Boring!’ said Jodie. She lay back and listened to her iPod, dancing her legs in the air. Then she got fed up and went to watch television with Mum and Dad.

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  I got into my pyjamas and climbed into my over-crowded bed. I read, forcing myself through Katy’s long illness and her time spent in her special wheelchair. I wondered if Mrs Wilberforce ha
d read it since her accident. I wondered what she felt about it now. I was almost at the end when Jodie came back, Mum with her.

  ‘Right, girls, get ready for bed,’ she said. ‘Oh, well done, Pearl, you’re all set. Night-night, dear.’ She sat down on my bed to give me a kiss and then jumped up again.

  ‘What on earth . . .?’ She fished out my torch. My heart started thudding. ‘What are you doing with your torch, Pearl?’

  ‘Nothing, Mum.’

  ‘Why is it in your bed?’

  My mind went completely blank.

  Mum shook her head at me. You were going to read after I put the light out, you naughty girl!

  You’ll strain your eyes.’ She took the torch away and put it in my dressing-table drawer. She looked at Jodie. ‘You tell me if you catch her reading in the dark, Jodie.’

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ said Jodie, saluting. ‘The Watch Pearl Patrol is ever alert and ready to report.’

  Mum kissed us both and went back to the living room. Jodie shook her head.

  ‘As if,’ she said.

  ‘You wouldn’t ever tell on me, would you, Jodie?’

  I said.

  ‘You know I wouldn’t!’

  ‘No matter what?’ I said.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Jodie, getting undressed. She pretended to be a stripper, humming, ‘Da da da 237

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  daaa, da da da daaa,’ as she took off each item of clothing, whirling her bra above her head and rotating her knickers round and round her ankle.

  ‘Idiot,’ I said, giggling.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you’re acting crazy. Put your pyjamas on.’

  ‘No. Why are you suddenly asking if I’ll tell?

  What are you up to?’

  ‘Nothing,’ I said. I yawned elaborately. ‘I’m ever so tired. I’m going straight to sleep.’

  I lay down and shut my eyes. Jodie went on talking but I kept my eyes closed, not responding. I made myself breathe slowly, in and out, in and out, as if I was already asleep. Jodie gave up after five minutes. I heard her switching off the light and lying down. I waited. She tossed and turned and sighed and pummelled her pillow. But eventually her own breathing slowed. She burrowed deeper under her duvet.

  I wasn’t absolutely sure she was asleep until I heard her soft snores. I lay still, timing my breath to hers, though my heart was beating hard. I waited another ten or fifteen minutes, and then I sat up and cautiously slid my legs out of bed. I took off my pyjama bottoms and rolled them into a head shape on my pillow. I put on my jeans and pulled my jacket over my pyjama top. I stuck my legs out of bed and stepped into my Wellington boots. It wasn’t muddy but I felt they’d give me more protec-tion. I hated the thought of little rodents running round my feet in the dark.