Mum raised her eyebrows and handed round toffee apples, sniffing. Dan tried to share his with his man, holding the apple precariously with his false monkey hand. Zeph barged into him and Dan dropped his toffee apple. It rolled stickily across the floor. Dan went to pick it up.
‘No, don’t, Dan, it’s all gritty and fluffy now. Here, have mine,’ said Harley.
Dan took his toffee apple, barely pausing to say thank you. Then he chased after Jodie, leaving poor Harley standing there.
I went up to him. ‘Look, you have my toffee apple.
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I don’t really like them that much,’ I said.
‘No, you eat it, Pearl. I’m fine,’ said Harley.
‘You don’t sound fine,’ I said.
‘Well, I’ve never been top of the pops when it comes to popularity, but I did feel I was going OK if I could count on you and little Dan. Now Dan can’t be bothered with me and you stalk off like I’m a bad smell. Aren’t we friends any more?’
‘Oh, Harley, don’t. Of course we’re friends. You know I just can’t stand it when you criticize Jodie.’
‘But I was only—’
‘I know. I’m just a bit twitchy about her, that’s all.’
‘So’s everyone,’ said Harley. ‘Jodie has to be the centre of attention. It’s as if she’s got a neon sign flashing on and off, saying, Look at me! Look at me! ’
‘You’re criticizing her again.’
‘No, I’m not, I’m making a purely objective statement.’
‘And I think you’re a weeny bit jealous that Jodie’s so good with the little ones. That’s not criticizing, it’s a – what was it? – a purely objective statement.’
‘I’m not the slightest bit jealous. I don’t want them all trailing after me all the time, it’s incredibly tedious. I’m sure there’s going to be trouble getting them all to sleep tonight because they’re all so wired up and over-excited but that’s not my problem. Jodie’s the girl who reads them their bedtime stories now. Let her try to settle them all down.’
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bumping into everyone deliberately. Undie clapped her hands and announced it was Time for Bed. No one took any notice until Jodie put her finger to her purple lips and made all the little ones stand as still as statues.
Jodie nodded at Undie as if to say, See!
‘Now listen, you lot, let’s hurry back to your houses, and if you’re very good, I’ll tell you all a special Halloween story when you’re in bed,’ she announced.
‘ What Halloween story?’ I asked anxiously.
‘Oh, we’ll make one up,’ she said. ‘You come too, Pearl. You’re my little sister witch.’
‘Don’t make it too scary for them, Jodie,’ I said.
‘You always used to frighten me. Well, you still do.’
‘Yeah, but you’re a little wuss, dead sensitive. The littlies will just think it a laugh if I tell them a ghost story. Look at the way Zeph was kicking Undie’s head around. Come on, let’s gather them up.’
I’d sooner have stayed with Harley or Harriet but I helped round up all the younger children and walked them in a crocodile up the dark pathway.
Mr Wilberforce led the way, swinging an old-fashioned lantern, and Undie sloped along behind, her sheet wrapped round her neck. I tried to make conversation with her but she answered in mono-syllables. She sniffed when she looked in Jodie’s direction.
Mr Wilberforce was obviously still thrilled with Jodie, clapping her on the back and kidding her he ought to put her on the staff payroll. She skipped along beside him, her weird teeth flashing in the lantern light. Mr Wilberforce went past his 358
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bungalow so that he could light the little troupe of children safely to the girls’ and boys’ houses.
Undie cleared off to her own room the moment he’d gone, deciding to let Jodie and me get on with it. All the children were desperately tired now, whining and yawning and rubbing their eyes.
‘Tell you what, Pearl, you get the girls into their pyjamas and tell them a Halloween story, OK?’
‘No, I can’t!’
‘Oh come on, you can make up just as good stories as me. Better! ’
‘Yes, but that’s just for us,’ I said.
‘Go on. Be a sweet sister witch,’ said Jodie, starting to herd the boys into their house. ‘Make up any old thing. Just get them settled.’
Sakura slipped her hand into mine. ‘Are you going to tell us a story, Pearl?’ she said. ‘Goody goody!’
So I went into the girls’ house and supervised all ten little girls as they got into their pyjamas and cleaned their teeth and had a last wee. Then they all climbed into their little red beds and looked at me expectantly.
I sat down on Sakura’s bed and started telling a story about a little girl called Cherry Blossom who grew pumpkins in her garden for Halloween.
‘Is it going to get very scary?’ Sakura whispered.
‘No, don’t worry, my stories aren’t scary at all,’ I said.
Sakura relaxed, stretching out her legs as I told her how Cherry Blossom watered and fed her ten pumpkins every day. Her feet wriggled against me like little puppies under the blanket.
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her garden to her pumpkin patch, ready to pick her ten fine pumpkins. They had grown absolutely huge, practically bursting out of their bright orange skin. Cherry Blossom thought it a pity to pick them but she reached out her hands nevertheless. And then the first pumpkin opened up with a loud pop’
– I made an explosive popping noise and each little girl tried hard to copy me – ‘and out flew . . .’ I paused.
‘It’s not a ghost, is it?’ said Sakura. ‘Please don’t let it be a ghost.’
‘No, no ghosts, I promise. This is something small, with wings.’
‘It’s a bat!’
‘No, a bee!’
‘A butterfly?’
‘It was a fairy,’ I said. ‘A little plump pumpkin fairy with a bright orange fairy frock and little green satin ballet slippers and sparkly green wings. She spread her lovely little wings and flew round Cherry Blossom’s head. “I am your very own pumpkin fairy and I will grant you a special Halloween wish,” she whispered.’
If Jodie had been listening, she’d have made vomit noises at this stage but all my little girls went, ‘Aaah!’
‘So what do you think Cherry Blossom wished for, Sakura?’ I asked.
‘I think . . . I think she wished to see her daddy,’
she said, wriggling.
‘OK, so the pumpkin fairy puffed up her cheeks and blew out a stream of magic fairy dust, like this . . .’ I blew, and all the little girls blew too.
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down the garden and he picked her up in his arms and gave her a big cuddle.’
‘And he promised to stay with her for ever and every,’ said Sakura.
I made nine more fairies pop out of a pumpkin so that every little girl could have their own wish. I was sick to death of the pumpkin-patch fairies by this time.
As soon as the tenth wish was chosen, I said firmly, ‘Now I wish that you all go to sleep straight away like good little girls.’
Astonishingly, they all slid down under their duvets, closing their eyes. Sakura asked me to kiss her goodnight, and then I had to go from bed to bed, tucking each little girl up properly. I suddenly felt as fond of them as if they were all my little sisters.
They liked me. Maybe they liked me almost as much as Jodie!
I th
ought she’d be waiting for me impatiently as the Cherry Blossom story had been incredibly long-winded, but when I went to find her in the boys’
house, she was only just finishing her own story. It was dark in the dormitory. She was telling the story by flickering candlelight (a nightlight stolen from a Halloween pumpkin). The boys were lying on their backs in bed, unusually still, eyes big, all of them staring transfixed at Jodie.
‘So the sad white whispering woman still weeps up in her tower,’ Jodie said very softly.
I clutched her arm in protest but she shook me off.
‘And every now and then she steps silently down and down the winding stairs, slides straight through the door and wanders along the corridors, 361
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whispering . . . If you listen carefully, you might hear her yourself one day, but beware. She’s so lonely. She’d love a little boy to keep her company during the long dark nights. Watch out she doesn’t whisper in your ear . . .’ Jodie’s voice faded. The little boys didn’t move. They scarcely breathed.
‘Right, come on, sleepy byes,’ said Jodie in her normal voice. ‘Night-night, everyone.’
They mumbled under their duvets.
‘You’ve scared them silly,’ I said.
‘It was just a story. They asked for a ghost story.
They liked it. Didn’t you like the story, boys?’
They mumbled again.
‘You’re not scared now, are you?’ said Jodie.
‘I’m not a bit scared,’ said Zeph, and the others echoed him.
‘ I’m not scared,’ Dan whispered. ‘But I think my Man’s a bit scared because he’s so little.’
‘Well, you give him a big cuddle and tell him to go to sleep,’ said Jodie. ‘Night then.’
She took my arm and clacked out of the room in her high heels. I pulled away from her when we were outside the house.
‘Jodie, you shouldn’t tell them stories like that. I don’t care what they say. They’re only little. They’ll have nightmares. You used to give me terrible nightmares but at least I had you there to comfort me.’
‘Yeah, I can still give you nightmares, easy-peasy.
I’m truly great at ghost stories. Maybe I’ll make horror movies when I’m older.’ Jodie started humming creepy music, dancing her fingers over my face in the dark.
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that story anyway, to anyone at all. It’s horrible and it’s totally tactless because of Mrs Wilberforce.’ I lowered my voice because we were going past her house. I wondered if Mr Wilberforce was making her a drink, then sitting by her wheelchair, ridiculous in his witch outfit, telling her about his silly party. She must long to struggle out of her wheelchair, take command of her withered legs and run and run and run right away for ever.
‘My story hasn’t got anything to do with Mrs Wilberforce,’ said Jodie. ‘I made most of it up before I’d ever even met her.’
‘Yes, but it’s still horribly similar in parts.’
‘She’s not dead. Though she’s as good as.’
‘Jodie! Shut up! How could you say such a terrible thing? She might hear you.’
‘Don’t be stupid, she couldn’t possibly hear. I’m not being terrible, I’m simply stating a fact. I’d sooner be dead than shut up here, barely able to get out, while old Wilberforce carries on with Frenchie.’
‘ What? ’
‘Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?’
‘He couldn’t be! Do you think Mrs Wilberforce knows?’
‘Why do you think she’s so depressed all the time? She can’t exactly flounce off, can she?’
‘I think you’re just making it all up, distorting everything. And if it is true, then it’s even meaner to go on about your sad white whispering woman creeping along corridors.’
‘Creeping, right, on her own two legs. It would be truly tasteless if I had her bowling along in some ghostly wheeled chariot,’ said Jodie. She made weird creaking rattling noises.
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I ignored her, stomping along in the dark, wishing I had my torch with me.
‘You’re just jealous because the littlies like my stories,’ said Jodie. ‘Don’t worry, Pearly, you’re still my favourite girly.’
I said nothing, humming a little tune so as not to listen to her any more. She ran after me, then stumbled and turned her ankle.
‘Ouch! Flipping heck, that hurt! I hope the heel hasn’t come off my shoe. Pearl? Pearl, wait for me.
I’m totally crippled, I need your arm.’
I walked on. I knew she hadn’t really hurt herself. She was just playacting. I didn’t always have to do what she said. I hummed louder, hurrying.
‘Pearl!’ she called. ‘Don’t leave me. Please?’ She sounded suddenly forlorn. My heart turned over. I gave in and ran back to her.
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She stood in front of the whole school at half past nine.
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24
Jodie was sent for the next morning.
‘ Now what have you done?’ said Mum. ‘Mr Wilberforce had a word when I was serving him his breakfast. He wants to see you at ten to nine and he doesn’t look happy.’
‘I haven’t done anything! Don’t look so worried, Mum,’ said Jodie chirpily.
‘I’ve got a whole load of worries, young lady,’ said Mum, sighing. ‘And half a dozen of them feature you. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you prancing around at the party in that silly get-up, showing off like anything.’
‘Thanks, Mum,’ said Jodie. ‘You’re going over-board with the flattery, as always.’
‘I’m just trying to stop you showing us all up,’
said Mum. ‘I’m sure it was your idea for Pearl to wear all that witchy nonsense too.’
‘Hey, what about Mr Wilberforce and Frenchie?
Weren’t they wearing witchy nonsense?’
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‘Well, they certainly both looked a right pair of idiots, I must admit. I could barely look him in the face. What kind of a message was he giving to the kids? He hadn’t even bothered to shave his legs.
And as for that Frenchie, well, she looks a bit of a witch to start with, so I suppose she was off to a flying start, but really! Anyway, you run off to Mr Wilberforce – and for pity’s sake watch that cheeky mouth of yours. Just hang your head and say you’ll try and do better, whatever it is.’
‘It’s nothing, Mum. Mr Wilberforce was singing my praises last night. He thinks I’m Little Miss Wonderful.’
Jodie flounced off, fluffing her purple hair and doing a little tap dance in her high heels.
‘That . . . girl,’ said Mum. Heaven knows what adjectives she was adding inside her head.
‘ Our girl,’ said Dad. ‘Why do you always have to be so hard on her, Shaz? I can’t see that she’s in any kind of trouble. She’s right, old Wilberforce thinks the world of her.’
But Jodie had blown it this time. I lurked near Mr Wilberforce’s study, waiting for her. Mrs Lewin took the register at nine but I hung on, though I didn’t want to get into trouble. Jodie didn’t come out of Mr Wilberforce’s study until twenty past. Her head was bent, her hair in her eyes. I knew something was horribly wrong even before I saw her face properly. She’d been crying, her eyes still brimming, her eyelashes spiked with tears.
‘Oh, Jodie,’ I whispered. I went to give her a hug but she pulled away from me, pushing me hard in the chest.
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‘What? What’s the matter? What have I done?’ I gabbled.
‘You haven’t done anything, as a
lways, Precious Pearl,’ said Jodie. ‘You’re the good girl, the clever girl, everybody’s favourite storyteller. All the little girls loved your story last night and curled up sound asleep, bless their little cotton socks. But two of my boys wet their beds, Zeph was sick and Dan had nightmares and screamed the place down, yelling that the whispering ghost was coming to get him. I wish!’
‘Oh dear,’ I said, not knowing whether the laugh or cry.
‘And now Dan’s running a temperature and Undie’s had to keep him in bed, the silly little diddums.’
‘Oh, Jodie, it’s not his fault. You know what he’s like.’
‘Yeah, a wimpy little tell-tale, out to get me into trouble.’
‘He’s not. He adores you, you know he does. All the littlies love you to bits. You’re brilliant with them.’
‘No I’m not. Mr Wilberforce says I’ve let them all down, deliberately frightening them. He acted all sad and wounded and said I’d let him down too. I don’t know why the old fart’s making such a song and dance about a silly little story. It was all his idea to have a Halloween party.’
‘I know, I know, but—’
‘How do they know it was my story that upset them anyway? It could have been the sight of a daft old man in drag – or how about Undie with her ridiculous head. So OK, what was she dressed up as?’
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‘A ghost?’
‘Yeah, absolutely. And what does old Wilberforce want me to do? Stand up in front of the whole school and tell them all there’s no such thing as ghosts. Is he making Undie do that? Is he hell.’
‘It’s unfair, I know. Have you really got to get up in front of everyone? I’d absolutely hate that. Still, you won’t mind too much, will you, Jodie? Then everything can get back to normal and all the littlies can have their proper story time again.’
Jodie looked at me strangely, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. ‘They’ll have their story time all right, but not with me. With you.’
‘What?’
‘Apparently you and your soppy fairies were a huge big hit with all the little girls. They’ve all been burbling about you non-stop. You’re going to be the chief storyteller now.’
‘No I’m not,’ I said. ‘I’m not taking your place!’
My Sister Jodie Page 28