My Sister Jodie

by Jacqueline Wilson

  I didn’t have time to brush my hair so I tied it 238

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  back with a bedraggled ribbon. I was sure Harley wouldn’t care what I looked like tonight. It only mattered that I turn up.

  I plodded as quietly as I could to my dressing table and pulled the top drawer open. It creaked a little so I had to ease it centimetre by centimetre, but soon it was open enough for me to get my fingers in and find my torch. I gripped it tightly and moved slowly towards the door. Jodie sighed. I stood still, holding my breath, but then she started snoring again.

  I got to the door, turned the handle very slowly, and then I was out in the passageway. I saw the light under the living-room door and the murmur of Mum’s voice above the television. I made my way swiftly down the passage to the back door. I couldn’t really go on tiptoe in my Wellington boots.

  They made an odd little sucking sound at each step, but the television was on loudly.

  I made my way right along the passage to the back door. This was the difficult part. Dad locked and bolted it after we’d settled down for the evening. I prayed he wouldn’t go back to check on it when he went to bed. I managed the key in the lock but I was too small to reach the bolt on the door. I wasn’t going to give up now. I fetched the stool from the bathroom, clambered onto it and stretched right up. I could just about reach the bolt. I had to push and tug for a minute or more, hurting my fingers, nearly losing my balance and falling off the stool – but at last it gave.

  I got down, moved the stool back, and then opened the back door. The fresh night air was a shock on my hot face. It was so dark. The 239

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  passageway had been dark but I could still see what I was doing. The back yard of Melchester College seemed scarily black in spite of the splash of silver stars in the sky above. I stood with my back against the closed door, longing to rush back inside. But I took a very deep breath, switched on my torch, and went on my way.

  The torch was a good one, sending out a strong yellow light so that I could easily see where I was going, but it made the darkness all around seem even denser. It wasn’t so bad behind the house, but once I set out along the woodland path I felt terrified. The trees seemed to tower so much taller, a blackly enchanted wood. I heard odd rustlings and tiny cries. They seemed as alarming as jungle roars.

  I tried turning the torch in an arc but the swerving light made me dizzy and I kept getting half-glimpses of phantoms: a huge, hideous man who was really the misshapen trunk of a tree; the writhing python that was only a creeper swaying over a branch.

  The torch slipped in my hands. I clutched it desperately and forced myself forward, step after step. My Wellington boots were too small for me and were starting to stub my toes. The tops rubbed against my bunched pyjamas. I lost my ribbon in the dark and my hair fell over my face in tangles. I had to press my lips together hard to stop myself bursting into tears. I told myself I was being a ridiculous baby. I wasn’t a silly little kid any more.

  I was eleven years old. I wasn’t lost or in dire danger. I was simply out after dark, going to meet my friend.

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  What if I couldn’t find Harley and the badger set? I’d always found him easily enough before, but that was in full daylight. It would be so easy to miss the little windy path that led to the set. There were little paths everywhere. If I took the wrong one, I could get really lost and end up wandering the woods all night long.

  I stood at the edge of a path, agonizing over whether it was the right one or not. I thought of calling out to see if Harley was there, but that would frighten any badgers away. I made myself creep forward slowly, looking back over my shoulder every second step so that I could still find my way back – which made me blunder into an overhead branch. It scratched my forehead and pulled my hair horribly as if it had real twiggy fingers. I struggled free, my lips still clamped.

  I got to the clearing and shone my torch. There was Harley, crouching beside a tree bole. He waved slightly. I waved back and went to sit close beside him, dousing the light. The sudden dark was immense. He reached out and held my hand. I squeezed his gratefully. We sat there together in the dark. After a minute or so I started to see a little. I focused on the biggest entrance to the set.

  We waited. I might have dozed a little every now and then, my head nodding and jerking. Then Harley clenched my hand hard. I saw a snout emerge, then a whole striped head. The badger looked to the left, to the right, seemingly sniffing the air.

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  realized. He started scratching himself with his long claws. It looked so comical I had to bite my cheeks to stop myself bursting out laughing. Then he stopped, sniffed again, and took several steps forward. He snuffled in the grass, now sticky with honey. Then he started lick-lick-licking.

  After a few minutes another snout appeared at the entrance. It was a smaller badger, much more timid. I felt it must be a female. She peered out, retreated, peered again. Then she disappeared and returned a minute later with two little badgers, still cubs. I breathed in joyously, blinking rapidly, as if my eyes were a camera taking photographs. I didn’t need real photos. I had the images inside my head for ever.

  I’d have sat there all night long, even after all four badgers returned to their set, but around midnight Harley whispered that we should go back.

  ‘You must be tired out, Pearl,’ he said.

  ‘I’ve never felt so wide awake in my life,’ I said.

  ‘Let’s stay longer, Harley. They might come back.’

  ‘We can come tomorrow, and the next night and the next. You’re OK, aren’t you, finding your way with your torch? It’s not too scary, is it?’

  ‘It’s not the slightest bit scary,’ I lied.

  Perhaps my voice wavered, because Harley insisted on walking me all the way to the back door of Melchester College. The handle turned easily and I slipped inside, waving my fingers at him. It was a struggle relocking the door on the inside but I got the bathroom stool again and managed it. I was on such a high I felt I could rise upwards in the air of my own volition.

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  I tiptoed along the passageway, Wellington boots in my hand in case they left muddy footprints.

  There was no light under the living-room door now. Mum and Dad were obviously in bed, fast asleep.

  Jodie seemed fast asleep too when I crept into our room. She was lying on her side, breathing deeply, not moving. There was just a moment as I got into bed when I thought her eyes were wide open, but it was too dark to be sure. I lay down, hugging myself under the warm duvet, realizing my hands and feet were icy cold. I’d remember socks next time and maybe even gloves . . .

  I slept very late the next morning. For the first time ever Jodie was awake before me. She was fully dressed, sorting through the cardboard box of old toys we’d shoved in the wardrobe. The box where I kept my journal.

  ‘What are you looking for?’ I said, sitting bolt upright in bed.

  ‘My old rocket,’ said Jodie.

  She found it wedged at the bottom, under my bears. She waved it around, miming flight.

  ‘I was wondering about giving it to Dan,’ she said. ‘And you could give these old teddies to Sakura. She’d love them.’

  ‘I suppose,’ I said uncertainly. ‘But I love them.’

  ‘Yes, but you’re too old for toys now,’ said Jodie.

  There was a little edge to her voice. She kept her head bent over the box.

  ‘Ooh, what’s this doing here?’ she said, pulling out my journal.

  ‘Give it here!’ I said, leaping up and snatching it from her.

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  ‘Don’t worry, I don’t want to know your silly secrets,’ said Jodie.

  I wasn’t so sure. I wished I could think of a really good hiding place for my journal. I didn’t dare write everything in it now. I wrote one small sentence, though I embellished it with stars.

  * I have such a wonderful secret with Harley! *

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  Jodie was sitting up in bed, arms folded, waiting for me.

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  17

  I led a weirdly wonderful secret life for the next few weeks. I hung out with Jodie, I played with Sakura, I helped Mum and Dad, I made several shy visits to Mrs Wilberforce – and I saw Harley most afternoons, when we read our books by the badger set.

  Harley started keeping a special Badger Watch notebook, writing up each day and night in meticu-lous detail. He noted every new bedding mound, tuft of hair and pawprint. He even described every trace of badger dung. He drew the badgers in his notebook, carefully shaded accurate portraits. He let me draw them too. I tried to copy his style but I couldn’t help giving the badgers humorous expressions. The big male had bushy eyebrows, the female had a smile under her snout, and I drew the two cubs holding paws.

  Harley sighed. ‘So you’ll be calling them Billy Badger and Betty Badger, together with their twin cubs Bobby and Bessie?’ he said.

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  ‘No! I’ll pick much better names,’ I said.

  Harley smiled at me.

  ‘How do you know they haven’t got names for us?

  They might waffle away in their burrow about Little Soppy Fair Girl,’ I said.

  ‘What do they call me then? Great Giant Freak?’

  ‘Of course not. You’re Wondrous God Food Provider. They say prayers to you night and morning. Whenever they feel a bit peckish, they grunt, “God will provide,’’ and then they go outside their set, and lo, God has indeed been busy with his honey jar.’

  The grass around the set was permanently sticky now. I had to watch carefully where I sat down. I stole a jar of honey out of Mum’s pantry. Then Harley experimented with a jar of peanut butter he’d bought at the village shop. The badgers licked it up equally enthusiastically.

  They didn’t come out every night, but somehow those long hours of crouching together watching the entrance of the set were still precious. We even met up once when it was pouring with rain. I got soaked even though I was wearing my jacket.

  Harley brought an enormous tarpaulin he’d found in one of the Melchester College sheds, and we huddled together under it as if it was our tent.

  I hung my jacket outside my wardrobe and pulled my sodden pyjama bottoms off when I got back to the house. I spread them out over the end of the bed, hoping they’d be dry by morning. They were still soaking wet though, and the legs were covered in mud up to the knee.

  I got dressed hurriedly, keeping an eye on Jodie, who stayed hunched under her duvet. Mum and 248

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  Dad were already up but I dodged them both, my pyjamas a screwed-up parcel in my fist. I got to the bathroom, locked the door, and then ran a bath and leaned over it, trying to pummel my pyjamas clean with soap. I didn’t make too bad a job of it, though I had to clean the bath out very thoroughly to get rid of all the muddy scum.

  I got back safely intending to drip the pyjamas dry on a hanger inside my wardrobe, but Jodie was sitting up in bed, arms folded, waiting for me. My heart started beating fast. I clutched my pyjamas to my chest as if they were a baby. They started dripping down my jeans.

  ‘Had a little accident?’ said Jodie.

  I swallowed, going red. ‘Yes, actually,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t tell Mum.’

  ‘Don’t tell Mum what, exactly?’

  ‘That I had to wash my pyjamas,’ I said, hurriedly hanging them up in the wardrobe and putting a towel under them to catch the drips.

  ‘I see you’ve wet your jacket too,’ said Jodie. ‘And my goodness, look at the state of your welly boots.

  You’ve had one mighty accident, Pearl.’

  I sat down on the edge of the bed, wrapping my arms round myself. My damp jeans dug uncomfortably into my tummy.

  ‘So what have you really been up to?’ said Jodie.

  ‘I – I couldn’t sleep last night, so I just went for a little walk,’ I mumbled.

  ‘As you do, in the pouring rain at midnight in muddy woods,’ said Jodie. ‘All by yourself?’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘Sorry, who are you? You look like my sister Pearl but she’s scared of the dark.’

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  ‘I had my torch.’

  ‘Harley’s present. So you could slip out at night and meet up with him?’

  ‘No. Yes! Oh, Jodie, please don’t tell.’

  ‘I’m not going to tell – but I should. What are you playing at, Pearl? I couldn’t believe it when you started this lark. I mean, I don’t think I’d have the bottle. I just can’t credit it that you’re up for it. You and Harley, of all unlikely people. But what the hell is he playing at? You’re only a little girl.’

  ‘No I’m not. What do you mean, anyway?’

  ‘He’s got no right to play about with you. Tell him I’ll punch his stupid head in if he hurts you in any way.’

  ‘Of course he wouldn’t hurt me! He doesn’t do anything to me. I never even said I met up with him.’

  ‘Oh yes you do! Harley and I have such a wonderful secret! ’

  ‘You read my journal!’

  ‘Well, I couldn’t help it, you leave it lying around in such stupid places. And I’ve been worried about you. I didn’t know what to say. It’s kind of embarrassing. You’re too young. You don’t do anything really full-on, do you? It is just kissing?’

  ‘What?’ I stared at her. ‘We don’t kiss!’

  ‘Well, what do you do then?’

  ‘Promise you won’t tell anyone at all. Do you swear?’

  ‘Yes, yes, I swear, I swear,’ said Jodie. She said several very rude swear words out loud to be funny but she still looked serious.

  I pulled her head close to mine and whispered in her ear. ‘We watch badgers.’

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  ‘What?’ said Jodie, blinking. ‘ Badgers? ’

  ‘There’s a set in the woods. We’ve seen them lots of times – two adults and two half-grown cubs.’

  ‘Oh, for pity’s sake!’ said Jodie, starting to laugh.

  ‘You don’t have to creep off to the woods to watch badgers. Just sit cross-legged on the lawn, it’s heaving with them. Jed’s going bananas – they’re ruining it all with their earthworks. Oh, Pearl, you are amazing. So that’s why Harley gave you that torch! So you could go on your little badger-watching expeditions. Sweet!’

  I resented her tone. She was acting like it was a very childish thing to do.

  ‘Lots and lots of people do badger watches and keep notes. Harley started watching in April, that’s when all the big watches start. Some are set up so that forty people at a time can watch underground.’

  ‘Oh, wow, fantastic! Forty anoraks huddling together all night watching for dopey Mr Stripy to amble out and have a crap and a scratch for the benefit of his doting public,’ said Jodie.

  ‘There’s no need to be so snotty about it,’ I said. ‘I wish I hadn’t told you now.’

  ‘Of course you had to tell me. You must always tell me everything,’ said Jodie. She nestled up to me. ‘So what do you talk about when you and Harley are watching your old badgers?’

  ‘We don’t talk. The badgers wouldn’t come out then.’

  ‘So you sit there for hours in silence? I’d go crazy!’

  ‘I
know. That’s why we didn’t ask you along too.’

  ‘Oh. So you’re saying you would have wanted me along if I’d kept quiet?’

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  ‘Yes, of course,’ I said, though this wasn’t one hundred per cent true.

  ‘So, do you and Harley snuggle up together while you’re badger-watching?’

  She was teasing again. I glared at her.

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Well, Harley’s as cuddly as a set of iron railings, I must admit. So you don’t even hold hands?’

  ‘No,’ I said firmly.

  We had held hands but I wanted to keep this private.

  ‘Well. I’m glad my little sister’s such a good girl,’

  said Jodie, patting me on the top of my head.

  ‘What about my big sister? Are you a good girl?’ I said.

  Jodie laughed. ‘No fear! I’m a very bad girl,’ she said.

  ‘Are you a bad girl with Jed?’ I dared ask.

  ‘Ah, that would be telling,’ said Jodie.

  ‘Well, tell then,’ I said. ‘I know you like him and you do gardening with him, but you don’t do anything, do you?’

  ‘Like what? We’ve snogged a bit, that’s all.’

  ‘You haven’t.’

  ‘Have too,’ said Jodie, licking her lips.

  ‘But he’s a man.’

  ‘Oh, well done, keenly observed, Miss Pearl, Girl Detective. He’s not old though. He’s eighteen. A teenager.’

  ‘He still shouldn’t kiss you. That’s way way worse than you thinking Harley was kissing me.’

  ‘No it’s not,’ said Jodie.

  ‘Did he make you?’

  ‘Of course not! No one makes me do anything, 252