My Sister Jodie (6 page)

‘It's like she's going,
Dodgy
,' said Jodie.

When she got a little nearer, we heard what she was shouting.

‘Just
turn
!' she bellowed.

‘Turn?' said Mum, and she turned uncertainly, spinning right round, looking foolish.

‘
Turn?
' said Dad. ‘Oh, Lord!'

He pulled the padlock and chain. They swung down, only attached to one of the struts. Dad reached up to the ornate metal handle on the gates. He turned it and pushed hard. The gates opened! Dad went bright red and hit his head with the palm of his hand.

‘Oh, for pity's sake, Joe!' said Mum. ‘What will she think of us!'

‘How could I have been such a
noodle
?' said Dad.

Miss French carried on striding, shaking her head now.

‘Oh, Miss French, we're so sorry! You must think us idiots!' Mum burbled.

‘Not at all,' she said, though she didn't sound convincing. ‘Down, Shep, down!'

Shep the dog was leaping
up
, barking at Dad for all he was worth. His lips were bared, showing his sharp teeth.

‘Hello, boy. Good dog!' Dad said nervously.

I cowered in the car. Shep seemed as big as me and fifty times as fierce, more wild wolf than pet. But Jodie shot out of the car and bent down, holding out her arms. Shep veered crazily round and round Dad and then ran headlong at Jodie. He hurled himself into her arms, slobbering all over her as if she was a plate of pork chops.

‘
Down
, Shep,' said Miss French. ‘Are you
deaf
, mad dog?'

‘Watch he doesn't bite, Jodie!' said Dad.

‘He's not going to bite, are you, pal?' said Jodie, happily wrestling with him.

‘Don't let him lick your
face
, dear,' Mum said tensely.

‘He's just giving me a good wash,' said Jodie.

‘Shep's clearly fallen for you, young lady,' said Miss French. ‘He can be a bit overwhelming if you're nervous of dogs.' She looked at me. I was still in the car. She could only see my face and my velvet Alice band. I think she misjudged my age.

‘Come and say hello to Old Shep, poppet. He's a
friendly
old doggie,' she said in that loud bright tone people use to toddlers.

‘Out you get and say good morning to Miss French, Pearl,' said Mum.

I got out, feeling shy and silly – and still scared of Shep. He started barking at me, straining to jump out of Jodie's arms. I felt my heart going
thump thump thump
underneath my T-shirt.

‘It's OK, Pearl, he's not going to hurt you,' said Jodie. ‘Well, he might
lick
you to death.'

Miss French laughed. Mum and Dad laughed too, a little uncertainly. It felt as if they were all laughing at me. I tried to pull myself together. I reached out a trembling hand to pat Shep. He bared his big teeth again and growled. I squeaked and jumped backwards.

‘He's only teasing you,' said Miss French.

He looked deadly serious to me.

‘Your sister's not a
bit
scared of him,' said Miss French.

‘Better both hop back in the car, girls,' said Dad. ‘We've got a lot of sorting out to do, and the removal van will be here soon.'

‘Oh, it got here over an hour ago,' said Miss French breezily. ‘They've nearly finished. If you
drive down round the big house, you'll find the van at the back, just by the door to your flat.' She looked at Jodie. She was trying to peel Shep off her but he nuzzled up close, butting her affectionately with his head. ‘How about you taking Shep for a walk with me while your mum and dad get settled in? Are you any good at throwing balls?'

‘I'm only the
best
,' said Jodie.

‘Don't boast, Jodie!' said Mum.

‘Well, you can throw for Shep. See if you can wear him out for me,' said Miss French. ‘Come on.'

She fished out a chewed-up old ball from the pocket of her quilted waistcoat and tossed it to Jodie. She caught it one-handed and threw it way into the distance. Shep reared up excitedly and hurtled after it.

‘You behave yourself, Jodie,' Mum called as Jodie set off after Shep. ‘Don't you go bothering Miss French if she's busy.'

Jodie waved in acknowledgement but didn't turn round. Miss French didn't even bother to do that.

‘Well,' said Mum. She shook her head.

‘Our Jodie's obviously made a big impression,' said Dad.

‘Yes, I suppose so,' said Mum. ‘She's a
strange
woman, that Miss French.'

‘I think she's OK,' said Dad. ‘Seems quite friendly.'

‘Mmm,' said Mum. ‘She's a bit full of herself. Bossing us about when she's only the secretary, after all.'

‘Still, she's that type, isn't she?' said Dad, getting into the car and switching the engine back on. ‘I feel a total idiot, not sussing out how to open the
gate. What will she think of me, when I'm supposed to be the general handyman?'

‘We weren't to know,' said Mum. ‘I don't appreciate her dragging Jodie off like that. When is she going to deliver her
back
?'

‘Maybe she's some weird alien in disguise and Shep is an alien pet robot programmed to capture Jodie, and the moment they're out of sight they'll transform her and she'll be an alien too,' I said.

Dad chuckled as he started driving, but Mum glared at me.

‘Don't you start on those silly horror stories, Pearl. We hear enough of that nonsense from Jodie.'

‘She's only making up a
story
, Shaz – Sharon. Go on, Pearl, tell us more.'

‘No, don't encourage her. You make up something
nice
, Pearl, if you really have to start telling stories.'

I hunched up in the back and made up my own story inside my head about a girl called Pearl who used to get scared of stuff all the time, but then she found a special pearl ring, and the moment she slipped it on it gave her super powers and she was never scared of anything again, especially not animals. Lions fawned at her feet, tigers rubbed round her legs, elephants nuzzled her neck with their trunks – and howling werewolves whimpered plaintively for her attention.

I got distracted as we got closer and closer to Melchester College. The gravel crunched and crackled as Dad drove the car slowly past the front while Mum and I craned out necks sideways, staring up at the great grey gothic building,
awestruck. Then we turned round the corner, and immediately the house lost some of its splendour and dignity. There was scaffolding and piles of bricks and several boarded-up windows. Portakabins stood in a row and there were little sheds and huts in odd corners. Several cars were parked in a little bay, and there was our furniture van, doors open, with Big Alf and Young Bernie balancing down the ramp, holding Mum's dressing table.

‘Mind those gilt handles!' said Mum, rushing out of the car.

Dad and I followed her, staring round, bewildered. In such strange surroundings Big Alf and Young Bernie seemed like old friends.

‘You took your time, mate,' Big Alf yelled jovially to Dad. ‘Did you go by the scenic route? Like, via Scotland?'

‘Ha ha, very droll,' said Dad. ‘No, we thought we'd let you chaps have a clear run without us getting in your way.'

Mum was getting very much in their way now. She followed them down the narrow steps to the basement.

‘You're not putting that in the living room, are you? It goes in the
bedroom
, it's part of my bedroom suite. Dear, dear, you've put the good living-room cabinet in the
kitchenette
!'

‘We thought it was your kitchen dresser, love,' said Young Bernie. ‘Looks good in there.'

None of our furniture looked good anywhere, even in the right rooms. Our flat wasn't a proper flat at all. It was a series of small rooms down a long dark corridor. There were windows in the
rooms, but they didn't let in much light. When Big Alf and Young Bernie struggled past, we could only see their shoes. There was old grey-green mottled lino on the floor, and the walls were painted cream, just like a hospital. The biggest room was still on the small side. Our sofa and chairs were squashed in around the television. The table was piled high with boxes containing our books and DVDs and pictures and ornaments. There was an alcove at the back with a cooker and a little sink.

‘How can Mum cook for everyone
here
?' I said.

‘Don't be silly, Pearl. I'll have a proper big professional kitchen. This is just for us,' said Mum.

It looked too poky, even for the four of us.

‘It'll look much bigger without the cabinet crammed in like that,' said Mum. ‘Alf, Bernie, can you possibly move the cabinet over to the other side of the living room?'

‘We could –
possibly
,' said Young Bernie.

‘It's a bit of a liberty,' said Alf. ‘You didn't let us know that your gaff was down all them stairs in the basement. It's a bit much expecting us to play musical chairs with your furniture. It's our job to deliver it all in one piece. We've just about done that. It's
your
job to rearrange it if you don't like the way we've set it out.'

‘Now be a sport, lads. I've got a bad back,' Dad wheedled. ‘Just the cabinet? You can see it's fretting her. You know what women are like – she'll try to move it herself and do herself a mischief.'

Mum glared at him furiously, even though Alf and Bernie started moving the cabinet for her, sighing heavily. She didn't thank them, she simply stuck her head in the air and dragged me off by the
scruff of my T-shirt to investigate the bedrooms with her. They were very close together. Jodie and I would have to whisper right in each other's ears if we wanted to share secrets.

Both bedrooms had yellowy-cream wallpaper and ugly green and yellow curtains. They reminded me of a silly song they sang at school:
Green and yellow, Green and yellow, Oh Mum be quick, I'm going to be sick.
The carpet was green too, but a different dark olive shade. Mum rubbed at it with her foot as if she could change its colour with a little determination.

‘We'll get new curtains and stuff,' she said, fingering them. ‘They'll be easy enough to run up on a sewing machine. I'm sure the school will have one.'

I stared around the little room. It didn't look as if it could ever be even half as nice as our bedroom at home. I was so disappointed. I'd been crazy enough to imagine us living in splendour, in great airy rooms with flock wallpaper and big casement windows with velvet curtains. I'd even wondered if we might have chandeliers.

‘We'll brighten it all up for you,' said Mum. She tried to keep her voice bright too, but she was looking around as if it was all too much for her. She rubbed her lower lip anxiously, suddenly looking like a little girl.

‘Yes, it'll be fine, Mum,' I said quickly. ‘Shall I start unpacking our stuff then?'

‘That's my good girl,' said Mum. She turned round again, doing her best to smile – but her nose was twitching. ‘Does it smell a bit funny in here?'

‘What sort of funny?'

‘Dusty? Damp? I think we'll give everywhere a good scrubbing first.' Mum went to the window. ‘Look, all smeary!' She put her head to the curtains and sniffed. ‘These are going straight in the washing machine! Dear goodness, the couple before us have really let the side down. We'll spring clean from top to bottom, get everything fresh and shipshape. Good job we've got the whole summer to get organized.' Mum gave me a sudden fierce hug. ‘We'll be happy here, Pearl, you and me and Dad and Jodie. I hope she comes back soon, we need every pair of hands we can get.'

Jodie didn't come back for ages.

Big Alf and Young Bernie finished heaving the last of the furniture around. Dad gave them what he thought was a big tip. Big Alf looked at the money in his palm disdainfully.

‘Gosh, thanks, gov. Sure you can spare it?' he said sarcastically.

‘What have you done with that sister of yours?' Young Bernie said to me.

I shrugged my shoulders.

‘I bet she's run away already,' said Young Bernie. ‘She's a bit of a live wire, your Jodie. God knows what she'll do in a dump like this. You folks must be mental.'

Maybe he wouldn't have been so rude if Dad had given them a larger tip. Dad looked as if he'd like to snatch it straight back. Mum was outraged.

‘I'll thank you not to make personal comments about my daughter,' she said. ‘And you're simply showing your ignorance if you refer to Melchester College as a dump.' She said it as if it was her own property and she was the lady of the house.

Young Bernie made a silly
‘Ooooh!'
noise, wiggling his eyebrows, but he looked uncomfortable.

‘Come on, mate,' he said to Big Alf, and they went without saying goodbye.

‘What a pair of ill-mannered louts,' said Mum.

‘I told you we'd be better off hiring a van and doing the job ourselves,' said Dad.

‘You'd do your back in,' said Mum.

‘Even so. The way he looked down his nose at my tenner! Who does he think he is, eh? And how dare he talk about Jodie like that?'

‘Where's she got to, then? You'll have to go and start looking for her soon, Joe. That Miss French is probably dying to get rid of her. She must have finished walking the dog by now.'

‘That dog wouldn't tire if you took it on a fifty-mile hike,' said Dad. ‘Old Shep! That's an Elvis song. Do you think Miss French is an Elvis fan?'

We all sniggered at this. Miss French looked very much a lady for classical music, with her sensible grey bob and her navy waistcoat and pleated skirt and silk scarf – but when Jodie came back, we found it wasn't a joke.

‘She's got this amazing Elvis card on her mantelpiece, and when you press his lips, his voice sings,
‘Can't help falling in love with you,'
and his heart lights up inside his white sparkly suit – it's so cool!' said Jodie, jumping around and demonstrating.