The Worst Thing About My Sister

by Jacqueline Wilson

  ‘Can I have some too?’ I asked Melissa.

  She looked astonished, but said yes.

  I took a nice dollop and then started rubbing it on Patches and Gee-Up and Sugarlump and Merrylegs and Dandelion and Starlight to see if it made their coats shine.

  ‘Marty!’ said Melissa. ‘Don’t waste my hand cream on your stupid horses!’

  ‘Oh, Marty, you’re so funny!’ Jaydene giggled, rubbing her rose-scented hands together. ‘Mmm, this smells heavenly! I feel so grown up.’ She looked at all Melissa’s make-up. ‘Of course, I’d feel even more grown up if I could wear some make-up,’ she said hopefully.

  Melissa smiled at her. ‘Would you like me to make you up, Jaydene?’ she asked, in this sweetie-pie, silly-girlie voice, like Glinda the Good Witch in The Wizard of Oz.

  ‘Oh, Melissa, yes!’ said Jaydene.

  It took ages, and Jaydene didn’t even want to talk to me while Melissa dabbed all her make-up junk onto her face. Jaydene just listened to Melissa the Beauty Queen. She told her all this utter rubbish about your eye shadow reflecting the colour of your eyes, and kissing a tissue after you’ve applied your first coat of lipstick. Melissa was making it up as she went along, but Jaydene drank it all in. I couldn’t distract her at all. When Mum called out that it was supper time at long, long last, Jaydene started fussing.

  ‘Oh dear, will all my lipstick come off if I eat my supper?’ she said.

  I started to think she was such an idiot that I didn’t really want to be friends with her after all. She wasn’t acting like my friend, not in the slightest.

  It was spaghetti bolognese for supper. I tried to get Jaydene to play my slurp-slurp-slurp game, when you suck each strand up into your mouth without cutting it up. Mum always tells me off when I do this, but I knew she wouldn’t moan at Jaydene, as she was our guest. But Jaydene giggled at me fondly and said it looked as if I had lipstick on too – I had orange spaghetti sauce all round my mouth. She tried to copy the way Melissa ate, winding her spaghetti round and round her fork in an affected manner.

  Mum and Dad kept chatting to Jaydene while I fidgeted and sucked and slurped. I wanted them to like her, but it was irritating the way they kept nodding triumphantly at me when Jaydene said I was so lucky to have such a lovely bedroom, and even luckier to have a big sister like Melissa.

  We still had about an hour left to play after supper. I was planning to show Jaydene all my Mighty Mart comics and maybe suggest we act one out together. I was even going to invent a brand-new character with superpowers: Giant Jay, who would have her very own adventure. But Jaydene asked if Melissa would come and play with us too.

  ‘No, we don’t want her,’ I said quickly.

  ‘Yes we do,’ said Jaydene.

  Melissa didn’t have to come. But she seemed intent on stealing my best friend away from me. ‘Of course I’ll come,’ she said. ‘Let’s all go up to my bedroom.’

  ‘It’s my bedroom too,’ I said, but they weren’t even listening to me.

  They started playing a new, incredibly boring game together – hairdressers!

  Melissa twiddled Jaydene’s funny little plaits enviously. ‘How do you get your hair in those little plaits all over your head, Jaydene? They’re so neat.’

  ‘My mum does them for me, or sometimes my gran. It takes ages, but I watch telly while they do it. Do you want me to plait your hair, Melissa?’

  ‘Oh, yes please!’

  I groaned, unable to believe it.

  Jaydene looked at me anxiously. ‘I’ll plait your hair too, Marty,’ she said sweetly.

  ‘No thanks. I can’t imagine anything more boring,’ I said rudely. ‘Don’t play hairdressers, Jaydene. Play a proper game with me!’

  At school I can nearly always make Jaydene do what I want – but here at home it was as if Melissa had cast a spell on her.

  ‘I’ll play in a minute, Marty. I’ll just show Melissa how to do my kind of plaits. It’s only fair, seeing as she did all my make-up,’ she said.

  A minute! Jaydene spent nearly the entire hour combing and plaiting Melissa’s horrible hair. While Jaydene parted and gathered and twisted and plaited, she asked Melissa’s advice again and again. She wanted to know silly stuff about make-up and clothes and pop stars. I yawned so much I nearly ended up with lockjaw.

  But then she got on to school stuff.

  ‘Do you have any really mean girls like Katie and Ingrid in your class, Melissa?’ Jaydene asked.

  ‘Yes. I’ve got Chantelle and Laura. They’re worse,’ said Melissa.

  ‘So how do you manage when they’re mean to you?’ Jaydene asked anxiously. ‘Marty is soooo brave. She just says mean things back, but I can’t ever think of stuff to say. Or she fights them, but I’m hopeless at fighting. I just cry if anyone hits me. Or she throws eggs – imagine!’

  I perked up at this. I remembered that Jaydene was really a very good friend.

  ‘Yeah, well, that’s not the most sensible way to react,’ said Melissa. ‘Marty got into serious trouble. Don’t you ever throw eggs, Jaydene.’

  ‘Oh I won’t, don’t worry. I wouldn’t dare,’ she said, her eyes round.

  I felt almost as big as Mighty Mart. I dared.

  ‘I don’t think you need to fight back, Jaydene,’ said Melissa. ‘If I were you I’d just laugh when Katie and Ingrid say mean things. Act like you don’t care. I laugh at Chantelle and Laura, or I say, ever so gently, “What’s your problem?” and it just totally fazes them.’

  ‘Really?’ said Jaydene.

  ‘Until the next time,’ I said.

  Then there was a knock on the door. It was Jaydene’s mum, ready to collect her. Her visit was over.

  Well, nearly. Mum made Jaydene’s mum a cup of tea, and then she took her upstairs to see her new sewing room and our new bedroom. Jaydene’s mum loved all Mum’s dresses twirling on hangers all round the room.

  ‘You’re so clever, Mrs Michaels,’ she said. ‘These dresses are absolutely beautiful.’

  I raised my eyebrows at Jaydene. It looked like she might be in serious danger of ending up in a cringe-making crinoline herself.

  ‘Come and see Marty and Melissa’s bedroom, Mum,’ she said quickly.

  Jaydene’s mum went totally ecstatic! She oohed and aahed over the duvet covers and the cushions and the chandelier, but she especially adored the shelf unit.

  ‘Did you get a special carpenter, Mrs Michaels?’ she asked.

  ‘No, my husband did it,’ said Mum.

  ‘Really! Oh, Mr Michaels, you’re so clever,’ said Jaydene’s mum.

  When Jaydene left with her mum, all three members of my family spent the next twenty minutes going on and on about her, saying how much they liked her.

  ‘I’m so happy you’ve got a special best friend at last, Martina,’ said Mum, putting her arm round me and giving me a squeeze.

  I supposed I was happy too – but Jaydene didn’t really seem like my best friend any more. She seemed to be Melissa’s best friend forever. Maybe that’s the worst thing about my sister. Everyone likes her best.

  The next Friday Melissa had her best friends to tea, to show off our new bedroom. She said she couldn’t choose who she liked best so she invited three girls – Ali, Nina and Amaleena.

  ‘That’s not fair,’ I protested. ‘I only had one friend to tea.’

  ‘You’ve only got one friend,’ said Melissa scornfully.

  ‘I’ve got heaps of friends,’ I said. ‘Micky West and me play together every single lunch time now.’

  ‘You can’t ask a boy to play in your bedroom,’ said Melissa. ‘Anyway, he wouldn’t be interested in stuff like colour schemes and shelf units.’

  ‘Well, I’m not interested either.’

  ‘That’s perfectly obvious. Now listen, I want you to tidy up before Ali and Nina and Amaleena come. I’m sick of you leaving your socks and knickers in a nasty heap on the carpet. Why can’t you put them in the clothes basket?’

  ‘Do you know, you sound just like
Mum?’ I said.

  ‘And take down that silly Mighty Mart poster – it looks awful. I don’t want childish scribbles messing up the place.’

  ‘That’s my bit of corkboard, Dad said.’

  ‘Yes, all right, but put something normal up – the sort of thing girls your age like – puppies or kittens.’ Melissa was talking like she was grown up herself, not just two and a half years older than me. ‘And for goodness’ sake hide all your tatty old animals.’

  Wilma still swam in my bunk bed, but I hadn’t been able to stop Jumper jumping out of his kennel, Basil needed to stretch and slither, Polly wanted to give her cramped wings a good flap all round the room, and poor Half-Percy was delicate and needed special loving care in the daylight.

  I opened my mouth to explain all this to Melissa, but she didn’t even listen.

  ‘Put them in the cupboard!’ she said. ‘Or else you’ll be very, very sorry.’

  That really got my back up. Who was Melissa to start giving me orders? She was only my boring, bossy sister. I didn’t have to do what she said, did I? I pretended to tidy everything away on Thursday night. Well, I really did put all my underwear in the clothes basket, and I took down my best Mighty Mart poster, and I hid Wilma under my new slippery duvet, and caged every poor animal in the shelf-unit cupboard overnight.

  I might just have left them there if Melissa had been really truly grateful, but she barely said thank you.

  ‘I don’t believe it!’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Wonders will never cease!’

  That’s not true gratitude, is it? So on Friday morning after breakfast, when we were going out of the front door, I pretended I needed the toilet urgently. I charged upstairs into the bathroom, grabbed half a dozen items from the dirty clothes basket, rushed into our room and sprinkled them on the floor, opened the cupboard and let my animals loose, and then pinned dear Mighty Mart back in place where she belonged. I searched for a pen. As always, I couldn’t find one. I seized a lipstick instead and gave Mighty Mart a speech bubble: I HATE BOSSY BIG SISTERS WITH BIG FAT BOTTOMS!

  ‘Come on, Martina, we’ll be late for school,’ Mum called.

  ‘Coming!’ I said, and skipped downstairs.

  Melissa and Mum were none the wiser. I could hardly contain myself on the way to school. I told Jaydene about the fantastic trick I’d played, but she didn’t laugh. She looked like she was going to burst into tears.

  ‘Oh, Marty, Melissa will be so upset. She’ll want the bedroom to look lovely for all her friends,’ she said, agonized.

  ‘Well, it does look lovely – my sort of lovely, with all my things around to make it my bedroom,’ I said.

  ‘Promise you won’t get cross with me, Marty, but your things are a bit messy,’ said Jaydene. ‘Poor Melissa.’

  ‘Poor me, with no Marty Den any more,’ I said.

  I told Micky West and all his mates about my bedroom trick while we were playing baseball at lunch time. They all thought it was funny. Micky laughed so much he practically fell over.

  ‘You are funny, Farty Marty,’ he said. ‘My big sister’s always nagging at me. I couldn’t stand it if I had to share a room with her.’

  Oh, I do like Micky West. He made me feel all happy and bouncy again – but I started to worry a bit on the way home. Melissa was going on and on about our bedroom to Ali and Nina and Amaleena.

  ‘Just wait till you see it! I chose the colour scheme all myself. And it looks totally cool, like it’s a real teenage room,’ she boasted, beaming.

  She seemed so happy my tummy started to go tight. Maybe Jaydene was right. Perhaps my trick wasn’t funny at all. I started to wish I hadn’t done it. I tried to summon up my own superpowers. I thought of Jumper and Basil and Polly and Half-Percy and all my ponies, and willed them to pick themselves up and scamper back into the cupboard. I told my socks to hop around the room and then jump into the laundry basket. I made Mighty Mart scrub her lipstick message from her mouth. I willed this so fiercely that Mum wondered why I was pulling funny faces.

  ‘What’s the matter, Martina?’ she whispered in my ear.

  ‘Nothing, Mum.’

  Mum didn’t look convinced. ‘Are you in trouble at school again?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Are you sure? Don’t fib to me, young lady.’

  ‘I promise I’m not in trouble at school,’ I said.

  I wasn’t in trouble at school. But I was going to be in trouble at home. Big-time.

  I tried to charge upstairs when Mum opened the front door. I wanted to whirl round the bedroom putting everything to rights before Melissa and her boring friends set foot in it – but Mum caught hold of me.

  ‘No, you stay down in the kitchen with me. Let Melissa show the girls her bedroom in peace. She let you have a private time with Jaydene when you first came home from school.’

  ‘But, Mum, I just —’

  ‘No! You can help me fix a little snack for everyone. You do as you’re told!’

  I couldn’t even take refuge with Dad because he was seeing a client in his office. I was forced to follow Mum into the kitchen. I heard a whole lot of squealing from upstairs.

  ‘It sounds as if they like the bedroom!’ Mum said happily.

  My ears were sharper than hers. I’d heard Melissa squealing too. I knew I was for it.

  My heart hammered in my chest as I stood in the kitchen, mechanically arranging chocolate biscuits on a plate, while Mum poured five smoothies into our fancy glasses.

  ‘There now,’ she said, putting them all on a tray. She looked at me. ‘What is it, Martina? You’ve barely said a word since you got out of school.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I said in a tiny voice.

  ‘Are you feeling a bit left out of things? Look, tell you what. You carry the tray upstairs to the girls.’

  ‘But – but I might drop it,’ I said.

  ‘Well, carry it carefully. I haven’t filled the glasses very full so they won’t spill. Just take your time.’

  I certainly did that. I went up the stairs in slow motion. My ears waggled like bats, straining to hear what they were saying. I decided I might just say sorry to Melissa. Nothing elaborate, just: ‘Sorry I made the room a bit messy.’

  I could clear it up in a trice. Gather my animals, kick my socks under the beds and slip the poster off the board. The room would be back to rights in five seconds. I could do it all as if I really had superpowers, whirling round, and they’d all laugh at me and pat me on my curly head and wish they had a funny little sister just like me.

  They were laughing already. I put down the tray and opened the bedroom door. Ali and Nina and Amaleena were sitting on the bottom bunk. My socks were already kicked underneath. My Mighty Mart poster was torn down and ripped in half!

  Melissa was sitting on the floor in the midst of my animals. ‘Honestly, she is so pathetic,’ she was saying. ‘I think she’s seriously retarded. She acts just like a two-year-old. She thinks this ridiculous object’ – she seized Basil and waggled him – ‘is a snake! A snake, I ask you. Anyone can see it’s just my mum’s old tights.’

  Ali and Nina and Amaleena all burst out laughing. Basil hung his head. His sewn eyes looked at me imploringly.

  ‘Stop it!’ I said, bursting into the room.

  Melissa whirled Basil round and round, making him feel terribly sick and giddy.

  ‘Give me Basil!’ I shrieked.

  ‘He’s not Basil, he’s just old tights, stupid,’ said Melissa, dangling him right in my face. Suddenly he really looked like Mum’s old tights. His face was mortified.

  Melissa dropped him on the carpet disdainfully and then picked up poor little Half-Percy. ‘And look at this mangled bit of fluff!’ she said, tossing him in the air like a ball. ‘You’ll never guess what. Marty stuck the head to one of my hairbrushes and said it was a porcupine!’

  Ali and Nina and Amaleena all rocked with laughter, clutching each other.

  ‘Look at this,’ Melissa carried on relentlessly, picking up Polly. Her poor
head flopped down and one wing was crumpled. ‘She just cut it out from the back of a cornflake packet, she says it’s a real parrot and makes it fly – flap flap flap!’ She steered poor Polly through thin air in a terrible mockery of flying. ‘Hang on – it looks dead to me,’ she said, and she turned Polly upside down, claws in the air.

  ‘You’ll be dead in a minute,’ I said, springing at her.

  ‘Oh help!’ said Melissa, pretending to be frightened. She put her hand on my chest, shoving hard, holding me off. ‘It’s Mighty Mart come to squash me flat with her superpowers!’

  Ali and Nina and Amaleena practically wet themselves. I lost my footing on the rug and sat down abruptly.

  ‘Oh dear, have you bumped your big fat bottom?’ said Melissa.

  ‘You shut up, you pig!’ I said.

  ‘Oh, lickle crybaby,’ said Melissa.

  I wasn’t crying. My eyes were simply watering with shock.

  ‘You are such a baby, Marty.’

  Something flashed inside my head. I rolled over, jumped up, and ran over to the bunk beds. Ali and Nina and Amaleena all ducked, as if they thought I was attacking them. I snatched up Melissa’s pillow and grabbed Baba from her shadowy hidey-hole.

  ‘You’re the baby!’ I said. ‘You make out you’re so grown up yet you can’t get to sleep without your tatty old baby doll!’ I held Baba by the legs, swinging her about.

  Ali and Nina and Amaleena all gawped.

  ‘She’s – she’s not mine!’ said Melissa, but she’d gone scarlet, as if she’d smeared her precious lipstick all over her face. It was obvious she was fibbing.