My Sister Jodie Read online

  ‘What did you wish for?’ I asked.

  ‘It won’t come true if I tell you,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, go on, please,’ I begged her.

  ‘Absolutely not,’ said Jodie, licking her lips.

  ‘I’ll tell you what I wished,’ I said.

  ‘I know what that will be,’ said Jodie. ‘I won’t say it properly because then your wish won’t come true either, but I bet it involves you and me, and Melchester College, and I expect there’s a “happily ever after’’ at the end.’

  She’d guessed my wish, word for word.

  ‘Oh, you!’ I said. ‘So is that what you wished too?’

  Jodie smiled mysteriously. I could never get her to tell me anything if she didn’t want to. No one could ever guess what Jodie was thinking.

  She started singing some silly love song about wishes, and then we all joined in, singing old Abba and Beatles and Queen songs, all Dad’s favourites, and Mum joined in too, jiggling up and down in the car, doing arm gestures.

  ‘Mum!’ I said. ‘You’re good at it!’

  ‘She was always a right little raver on the dance floor,’ said Dad.

  ‘We’ll have to go dancing again sometime, Joe,’

  said Mum. ‘You’re not a bad dancer yourself.’

  Jodie and I groaned. Dad was a seriously embarrassing dancer. He waved his arms like a windmill and kicked his legs out sideways.

  ‘Maybe Melchester College will have a ball,’ Jodie joked.

  ‘I think they have a leavers’ dance,’ said Mum.

  ‘There was a photo in the brochure.’

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  ‘Well, we’re not leavers,’ said Dad. ‘We’re joiners.

  Now, I think we come off the motorway soon, at junction thirteen. You’ll have to have a squint at the map and help me, Sharon.’

  Mum was generally good at navigating, but this time we got hopelessly lost. We drove down one country road after another, sometimes passing a village shop or a converted church or a row of cottages, but then we were into true countryside, with isolated lonely lanes, tangling branches over our heads, a thick leaf canopy casting us into an odd green bloom.

  ‘It’s like the picture of a fairyland in one of my books,’ I said. ‘Look, even the trees have got all knobbly bits so that they look like weird faces.’

  ‘Watch out for their roots, they’re reaching out to grab us,’ said Jodie, turning her own arms into tree roots and snatching at me. ‘Ooh! What was that?

  Did you see that little greeny-blue thing flying past? Watch it doesn’t get in the window. Its little face was all squinty and evil. Maybe it’s going to sting you.’ She nipped at me now, making me squeal.

  ‘Stop it, Jodie. You’re scaring your sister,’ Mum said sharply.

  ‘I’m not really scared. It’s just fun, Mum,’ I said.

  ‘Well, give over, both of you, you’re getting on my nerves,’ said Mum. ‘Joe, it looks like we’re driving to the ends of the earth. This can’t be right. It’s not even a real road, it’s more a grass track. I think we’d better turn back.’

  ‘Let’s see where we get to,’ said Dad. ‘Anyway, we can’t do a U-turn, there’s not room. We’ll end up in the ditch.’

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  ‘And so the intrepid family drove on and on into the gloom, on through the night, on through the next day, further and further and further down the long and winding road, until it dawned on them they were never ever going to come to the end,’ said Jodie dramatically.

  ‘Shut up,’ I said, giving her a little shove.

  I knew she was joking, of course, but she had a way of making it all seem horribly real.

  ‘Don’t say “Shut up’’, Pearl, it sounds so coarse.

  Say “Be quiet’’. And Jodie, you be quiet. We’ve all had enough of you.’

  Jodie did a silent pantomime of being quiet, pretending to tie a gag around her mouth, making her eyes pop.

  We turned down yet another lane, and then another, and then a very windy one up a hill, so we were thrown this way and that, like a fairground ride.

  ‘We’d better have another squint at the map, Shaz. You’re right, we’ve gone wrong somewhere,’

  said Dad.

  ‘I can’t look at the atlas, I’m feeling sick from all these twists and turns,’ said Mum.

  ‘You take a look then, Jodie,’ said Dad. ‘Are you a hot shot at map-reading, pet?’

  ‘Jodie! Jodie, your dad’s talking to you.’

  ‘Mmm,’ said Jodie, pointing to her lips.

  Mum had forgotten all about telling her to be quiet. She reached round and flapped the atlas at Jodie, tapping her about the shoulders.

  ‘Don’t be so cheeky, miss! Oh God, I feel so sick.

  Joe, you’re going to have to stop the car.’

  Then Jodie yelled and pointed.

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  ‘For pity’s sake, what now?’ said Mum. ‘Joe, stop.

  I’m going to throw up any minute.’

  Dad stopped the car at the top of the hill. He pointed too. ‘Oh, my!’ he said.

  I craned forwards in the gap between Mum and Dad and saw for myself. There, below us, was Melchester College.

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  She kept giving us odd waves, turning her hands.

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  It shone in the sunlight like a true fairytale palace.

  There were houses to the right and left of the vast green grounds, but the college itself towered above them all, its domes and pinnacles and turrets and tower etching a complicated pattern in the air.

  ‘Oh, glory!’ said Mum. She took deep breaths, her hand over her mouth.

  ‘You’re not really going to be sick, are you?’ said Dad.

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ said Mum. She gave a little belch, though she tried hard to smother it.

  ‘Pardon me! This is the start of our whole new life.’

  ‘It’s better than Mansion Towers,’ I said to Jodie.

  ‘Oh, it’s so lovely!’

  Jodie reached out and held my hand tight. ‘I’m glad you like it, Pearl,’ she said.

  ‘You like it too? You must do.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s great. If you like that sort of thing.’

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  ‘Do you think we really might have a bedroom in the tower?’

  ‘Let’s hope,’ said Jodie.

  ‘Don’t be silly, girls. We have our own quarters in the basement,’ Mum said briskly.

  ‘The servants’ quarters?’ said Jodie.

  ‘No, it’s a properly converted flat. And we’re not servants, we’re management,’ said Mum.

  ‘You what?’ said Jodie. ‘Come off it, Mum!’

  ‘Joe, what is your official title?’ said Mum.

  ‘I’m the Site Manager,’ said Dad. He nodded at Jodie, sticking his tongue out. ‘There, miss! I’m one of the posh nobs now.’

  ‘And I’m the Food and Beverage Manager,’ said Mum. She enunciated the word Manager with particular emphasis. ‘So we’re management, Jodie, do you understand? I shall even have staff under me – two girls to help with the cooking and cleaning.’

  ‘You’re got them already – us!’

  ‘No, your job is to pull yourself together, make the most of this golden opportunity, adjust your attitude, mind your manners and work hard,’ said Mum.

  ‘Aye, aye, F and B Manager,’ said Jodie, saluting.

  She spluttered with laughter.

  Dad gave her a look. ‘You’re overstepping the mark, my girl,’ he said. ‘Still, we’re all in a bit of a tizz. OK then, my three girls – wagons roll!’

  He started up the