My Sister Jodie Read online

  ‘Nothing wrong with appropriating a name, though it can obviously backfire on you. My bear is called Mr Rigby Peller, which is actually the name of the shop where my ma gets her underwear. I saw the name on a fancy carrier bag and thought it would be splendid for the bear I’d just been given for my fifth birthday. I christened him privately with a bottle of Evian water and we were packed off to boarding school together. I told the other boys his name very proudly, thinking it utterly distin-guished, and a cut above all their Eddies and Freddies, but one unpleasant older boy bellowed with laughter and said that was the label on his mother’s push-up bra. Rigby Peller and I became the school laughing stock after that.’

  I was touched by his story, though I wasn’t sure if he was making it all up. Jodie simply laughed at him.

  ‘No wonder, you pathetic little diddums,’ she said. ‘Come on then, show us this party dress.’ She flung open his wardrobe and started clicking his coat-hangers along the rack, rubbishing his long limp trousers and jeans and jackets.

  184

  My_Sister_Jodie_ins_pp400.qxd 18/12/07 10:23 Page 185

  ‘Stop it, Jodie. Don’t be so rude!’ I said fiercely. I pushed her hard, slamming the wardrobe door shut so she nearly got her fingers trapped.

  ‘Oh, temper temper,’ she said, laughing. ‘Come on then, let’s get back or Miss Ponsy will be getting seriously narked.’

  I wanted to stay longer and look at the books on Harley’s shelves. I could see adult books on astronomy and psychology and art and natural history, but there were also old children’s stories –

  The Wind in the Willows, Treasure Island, several William books, His Dark Materials, all the Harry Potters, all the Narnia stories, lots of E. Nesbits, even an Alice in Wonderland. I badly wanted to browse and see which were well-thumbed. It would be like peeping into Harley’s head. But Jodie had Zeph and Dan by the hand and was already down the length of the dormitory and out of the door.

  Sakura was trooping after them, looking back at me anxiously.

  ‘Just coming, Sakura,’ I said, still squatting by the bookshelf.

  I looked up at Harley. He looked down at me.

  ‘We can always come back this afternoon so you can look at my books, Pearl. Without the entourage.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I whispered.

  ‘Come on, Pearl!’ Jodie called sharply.

  ‘Why do you let her boss you about so?’ said Harley.

  ‘She doesn’t really boss,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, she does!’

  ‘Well, she just looks after me. Because I’m her sister.’

  ‘Yes, but you’re not a little kid any more. You 185

  My_Sister_Jodie_ins_pp400.qxd 18/12/07 10:23 Page 186

  don’t have to do what Jodie says.’

  ‘You don’t understand. You haven’t got a big sister.’

  ‘I’m very glad I haven’t got a big sister like Jodie,’

  said Harley.

  186

  My_Sister_Jodie_ins_pp400.qxd 18/12/07 10:23 Page 188

  Then Mum and Dad came in, singing

  ‘Happy Birthday’.

  My_Sister_Jodie_ins_pp400.qxd 18/12/07 10:23 Page 189

  13

  I hadn’t really thought what I was going to wear for my birthday. I had my pink dress. I’d had it nearly a year but it still fitted me perfectly and I’d worn it so little that it looked brand new. I’d liked it last year. I’d admired the delicate pink-and-white striped silk, the lace collar, the full skirt. I’d twirled round and round in it, feeling like a ballet dancer.

  Mum had called me her little fairy and had made fairy cakes for my birthday tea. I blushed at the thought now.

  Mum caught me dressed up in the pink dress early in the morning, staring in the mirror in horror.

  ‘I’d have given anything to have a party frock like that. You look as pretty as a princess,’ she said.

  ‘No I don’t, Mum. I look awful,’ I said. ‘It’s so babyish.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ said Mum. She gave me a hug.

  ‘You’re still my baby, anyway.’

  189

  My_Sister_Jodie_ins_pp400.qxd 18/12/07 10:23 Page 190

  ‘No I’m not. Eleven’s nearly a teenager.’ I struck a pose, hands on hips.

  ‘Don’t you start getting above yourself, missy.

  I’ve had enough cheek from your sister to last me a lifetime,’ said Mum, looking over at Jodie and sighing.

  We’d thought Jodie was still asleep, but a hand came out from under her duvet and waggled its fingers.

  ‘My dress is too small for me now,’ I said.

  ‘No it’s not. The hem’s still just on your knee, though I could let it down if you really want.’

  ‘It’s too tight,’ I said, sticking my chest out as far as possible. ‘Here,’ I said, pointing.

  ‘Rubbish, you’re flat as a pancake,’ said Mum.

  ‘It hurts under my arms,’ I lied, wriggling.

  ‘Where?’ said Mum. ‘There’s plenty of room!’

  ‘Can’t she have a new outfit for her own birthday?’ Jodie mumbled. ‘Especially as you talked her into having this party.’

  ‘It’s not exactly a proper party, it’s just a little get-together, a birthday tea,’ said Mum. ‘But all right, I suppose I could always get Dad to drive me into town this Saturday. I think there’s a market where we might be able to buy a length of silk.’

  ‘Can’t I have something ready-made, Mum? Not a dress.’

  ‘Well, what?’ said Mum.

  ‘I don’t know. Something more casual.’

  ‘You’re not wearing jeans to a party!’

  ‘Not jeans, then, but something . . .’ I looked around wildly for inspiration and saw the curtains.

  ‘Something black.’

  190

  My_Sister_Jodie_ins_pp400.qxd 18/12/07 10:23 Page 191

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Pearl. You can’t wear black at your age!’ said Mum.

  ‘Is there any black velvet left over from the curtains?’ said Jodie.

  ‘Well, a bit. Not enough for a dress though – and it’s summer. You can’t wear black velvet in August!’

  ‘A skirt, a little black velvet skirt,’ said Jodie. She sat up, waving her hands, describing the shape in the air. ‘And then you could wear one of my black Tshirts, Pearl, that would look cool. What do you think?’

  ‘Oh yes!’ I said.

  ‘Oh no,’ said Mum, folding her arms.

  Jodie knelt up in bed, looking earnest. ‘ Please make her the skirt, Mum. I’d make it but you know I’m rubbish at sewing. Make Pearl the skirt so she can look the way she wants on her birthday. Go on, Mum, please please please,’ she said, nudging forward on her knees, turning her hands into paws and begging like a puppy.

  ‘I’m not your dad. You can’t get round me by acting daft,’ said Mum, swatting at her with her teatowel.

  But that evening after we were in bed we heard her scissors snipping away and then the whirr of her sewing machine.

  ‘There!’ said Jodie happily.

  ‘Are you giving me a present, Jodie?’ I asked.

  ‘How can I give you a present? I can’t just dash out to the shopping centre, can I?’

  ‘Aren’t you even giving me a card?’ I said.

  ‘Oh sure, like there’s a Clinton’s round the corner,’ said Jodie.

  But when I woke up very early on my birthday 191

  My_Sister_Jodie_ins_pp400.qxd 18/12/07 10:23 Page 192

  morning, I felt paper crackling on my pillow. I rolled onto my tummy and found a beautiful home-made collage card picturing both of us having a big hug.

  Jodie’s hair was tufty orange wool and my hair was a whole skein of pale yellow embroidery thread, obviously nicked from Mum’s sewing basket. We were both dressed in scraps of black velvet. Jodie had cut out paper shoes for us from a magazine.

  She had red high heels, of course, but I had them too, with spiky stilettos almost the length of my paper leg. She’d printe