Sunya made the cows and the sheep and a really fat animal that might have been a pig except for the fact it had a horn. Mrs Farmer walked past and did a double take and whispered What on earth is that and Sunya said A rhino. Mrs Farmer glanced over her shoulder to check Mr Price wasn’t looking and then she bashed the clay animal with her fist. The rhino splattered onto the desk and Sunya’s eyes flashed dangerously. The birth of The Lord Jesus Christ did not take place in a zoo Mrs Farmer hissed and Sunya said How do you know. The Ofsted Inspector walked over to our table and asked And what are you making. Sunya opened her mouth but Mrs Farmer yelled Sheep before Sunya had a chance to reply. You are making sheep, aren’t you dear. Sunya didn’t say anything but she rolled a bit of clay into a pointy sausage that looked exactly like a horn.
Mrs Farmer left and walked around the pairs saying How are you getting on and it felt weird ’cos she normally just sits at her desk and drinks coffee. Mr Price talked to Daniel and Ryan who were making a perfect stable with perfect animals and a perfect baby Jesus. Daniel was going on and on about Mrs Farmer being a good teacher, and Mrs Farmer was pretending that she couldn’t hear, but she had two pleased pink circles on her cheekbones. Daniel looked over at the display as if he knew his post-it would soon be on cloud two. Sunya rolled the clay fiercely, making five more horns.
Near the end of the lesson, Mrs Farmer took off her jacket. Two sweat patches dripped under her arms. She said Excellent work my dears. Please put your stables on the front table and I will bake them in the oven at playtime. Mr Price said I would like to come back and see the models when they are finished and Mrs Farmer blinked but said That would be lovely. The Inspector walked out of the room and Mrs Farmer flopped onto her chair and said Tidy up this mess, her voice back to normal.
Sunya took our stable to the front and leaned over to look at the other children’s work. She was there for ages leaving me to do all the tidying up and I would have been annoyed if I wasn’t trying so hard to be nice. When the classroom was clean, we were allowed outside, but Sunya disappeared into the girls’ toilets and didn’t come out again until the fat dinner lady blew the whistle.
While Jesus cooked in the oven, we did English. Mrs Farmer’s eyes kept zooming to the door as if she expected the Inspector to come in at any moment. We wrote poems called My Magical Christmas and we had to include all the wonderful things we were looking forward to. I couldn’t think of a single thing. Christmas is always sad in my family. Last year, Dad hung a stocking next to the urn and yelled at Mum when she didn’t fill it with presents. And this year will be worse than ever ’cos Mum’s not here to cook Christmas dinner, which is the best thing about the whole holiday, even if it does mean eating sprouts.
Mrs Farmer said Hurry up, James so I just started scribbling. I imagined the best Christmas ever and wrote about that instead. I described the warm turkey smells and the ringing church bells. I wrote about the matching grins of the happy pretty twins. I couldn’t think of anything to rhyme with Santa except Fanta, which isn’t my favourite drink like I said in verse two. But, as the whole poem is a great big lie, I don’t think it matters.
For once Sunya was struggling and she only wrote four lines. I whispered What’s wrong and she said I don’t celebrate Christmas. I didn’t know what to say to that. I can’t imagine winter without Christmas except in that film Narnia where the White Witch stops Father Christmas delivering presents to the talking beavers. Sunya said I wish I was normal as Mr Price walked in.
The clay was ready so Mrs Farmer got it out of the oven. She said Careful they are hot as we all gathered round. Mr Price’s nose poked over the top of the clipboard. Our stable looked good. Mary was bigger than Joseph, and Jesus’ arms and right leg had fallen off so he looked like a tadpole, but apart from that it was perfect. None of the animals had horns and I was just wondering where Sunya had put the pointy sausages when Mr Price gasped. I followed his eyes and saw Daniel’s stable. Inside, all the animals had something stuck to the middle of their foreheads. And not just the animals – Mary, Joseph, even baby Jesus had a sausage shape stuck between their eyebrows. I looked at Sunya. Her face was innocent but her eyes burned like coal. The pointy sausages looked nothing like horns. They looked like small willies. I put my hand over my mouth to stop myself laughing. I didn’t dare look at Daniel in case he blamed me, but I thought Who’s the dickhead now.
Mr Price left the room, his cheeks purple and the pen shaking in his long fingers as he wrote something bad on the clipboard. Daniel didn’t get into trouble. Mrs Farmer had no proof it was him. It didn’t matter though. We’d got revenge. The whole class had to stay in at lunchtime ’cos no one would own up to Debasing the son of God, whatever that means. Everyone was cross ’cos white flakes had started to fall from the sky and the other classes were in the playground having snowball fights. But I didn’t mind ’cos this way I got to spend lunchtime with Sunya rather than waiting for her to come out of the girls’ toilets.
Before Jas stopped eating, she used to love bangers and mash. She cut up all the sausages and hid them in the mashed potato. After school, that’s what I thought of. Partly ’cos I was starving and partly ’cos the world looked like a huge plate of Jas’s bangers and mash, everything hidden under lumpy white snow.
Sunya didn’t wait when Mrs Farmer told the class to get out of her sight. She ran out of school and walked as fast as she could down the road. I slipped trying to catch up with her. When I shouted her name, she stopped and turned round. Her face was dark beneath the snowflakes and she looked so pretty I forgot what I was about to say. What do you want, Jamie. She didn’t sound cross, just tired and fed up. Maybe even bored, and that was worse than anything. I went all cold and it had nothing to do with the snow. I wanted to say something really funny to make her eyes sparkle, but my mind had gone blank and I just stared and stared as the snow swirled all around us. After a long pause, I said How many people have you saved today, Girl M and she rolled her eyes. I said I’ve saved one thousand and four but it was a quiet day and she folded her arms and sighed impatiently. Her hijab was dotted with snowflakes and it flapped in the wind. She looked annoyed so I said Thank you and she said For what. I took a step closer. For giving Jesus a dickhead, for getting Daniel back and in my head I added For everything. Sunya shrugged. I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me. Then she turned around and walked off, her feet leaving deep prints in the snow.
I’VE BEEN TELLING Dad all week that he has to come into school at 3.15pm tomorrow. I hope he doesn’t drink. I don’t want him to embarrass me or Mum. She never replied to the letter but I know that she’ll come. I think she’ll come. I really hope so. I crossed my fingers for one hour and thirteen minutes yesterday, just to make sure. Jas said Don’t get your hopes up but I said Mum won’t miss Parents’ Evening. The story I wrote from Jesus’ point of view got an A so now my angel is on cloud seven. I can’t wait for Mum to read it.
When I got home from school earlier, the light on the answer machine was flashing. I thought it might be Mum leaving a message about tomorrow so I made myself wait to listen to it. Dad was asleep on the sofa with the urn on a cushion and the Father’s Day picture tucked underneath his double chin, fluttering every time he breathed out. I closed the door and I fed Roger and I brushed my teeth and splashed my face and combed my hair with my fingers. I hadn’t heard Mum’s voice for months and I wanted to look good. The Spider-Man top is all creased and mucky so I rubbed it down with a wet towel and sprayed it with my deodorant.
When I was ready, I dragged a chair to the phone and sat down, feeling nervous. I stretched out a finger. My hand flashed red in the light of the answer machine. It dangled above the Play button. I was desperate to hear Mum’s voice, but suddenly terrified too. She might have phoned to cancel. I started to count to thirty but my finger bashed the button before I even got to seventeen.
A woman’s voice. Oh hello it said, surprised to be talking to an answer machine. It didn’t sound like Mum but then again people put on
a different voice for the phone. I crossed my fingers.
Mr and Mrs Matthews, I am Miss Lewis, Jasmine’s form tutor. Nothing to worry about but Jasmine hasn’t been in school since last Friday. I wanted to make sure that she’s at home with you. I’m assuming she hasn’t been very well and that’s why I’ve not seen her for a while. Could you please give me a call this afternoon to let me know where she’s been and how she’s doing. If Jasmine is off sick, I hope she gets better soon and that we see her in school in the next few days. Thanks very much.
My first thought was It’s not Mum it’s not Mum it’s not Mum and I couldn’t really concentrate on what Miss Lewis was saying. So I pressed Repeat and listened again, my jaw dropping a bit more with each sentence. Jas wasn’t ill. She’d set off to school that morning in her uniform.
I sat there in silence, too shocked to move. Roger jumped onto my lap. His tail twisted through the air like one of those charmed snakes you see in dusty countries like Africa and on the film Aladdin. I didn’t know what to do. Skiving school is serious.
Where have you been I asked when the handle turned and Jas walked into the hall. She looked at me like I was being stupid and said School. The lie slapped me in the face and my cheeks felt like the answer machine, flashing flashing flashing red. I said Tell the truth and she said Don’t be so nosy in this sarcastic way. Miss Lewis left a message I said and Jas’s eyes zoomed to the answer machine and her hand zoomed to her mouth. She said Has Dad – and I said No and she said Will you – and I said Of course I won’t tell him.
She nodded and made herself a cup of tea and asked if I wanted a hot Ribena, which is just about my favourite drink but impossible to rhyme with Christmas words. I said Yes but not Please. I was still cross with her for telling lies and having adventures that didn’t include me. She sat down at the kitchen table and said I’m sorry and I said S’okay, but it wasn’t really and it annoyed me that she looked relieved, like just one little word had made it all go away. And I thought of Sunya and for the first time I understood why she didn’t want to wear the Blu-Tack ring. She hadn’t forgiven me ’cos I’d only apologised once and it wasn’t enough.
I wanted to run out of the kitchen and all the way down the road and up the hill to Sunya’s house. I wanted to stand outside her window and shout Sorry sorry sorry until she looked down with sparkly eyes and said It’s okay and actually meant it. But I couldn’t, so I didn’t, and I just sat at the table and waited for Jas to start talking.
I’m in love. I wasn’t expecting that. I coughed Ribena down my t-shirt. Jas patted me on the back. When I could breathe again, I said With Leo and she bit her nails and I said Oh. Jas fidgeted on her seat. What Dad said she began, her eyes filling with tears. I stood up to get her a tissue but couldn’t find one so I gave her a tea towel instead. She laughed when I handed it to her but it didn’t sound happy. What Dad said in the car. All that stuff about Leo being a girl. Being gay. I’ll never forgive him. I said You have to forgive him and she sniffed and asked Why. So I said He’s our dad and she said So what and then I was stuck. He’s our dad I repeated. I didn’t know what else to say. And Jas said And we’re his kids. I didn’t understand what that meant so I squeezed her hand. It felt all cold and bony.
After Dad drove off and left me in the rain, I couldn’t go to school. Jas was staring at a mark on the table as she talked. I called Leo and he skived off college and picked me up. We spent the day together and it was the happiest I’d ever been. School didn’t seem so important after that. I shuffled a bit closer and shook my head. School is important I said. Really important. Mum said good grades can get us anything that we want. Mum said education is—
Jas looked away from the mark on the table and stared straight into my eyes. Mum’s not here, Jamie.
I was going to tell her again about Parents’ Evening, how Mum was probably packing a bag right at that moment, excited to see me. I wanted to say Mum is coming. She’ll be standing outside my school, Ambleside Church of England Primary, tomorrow at 3.15pm. Without Nigel. But I didn’t. I didn’t say a word and I felt the first flicker of something that scared me.
I’ll go back to school tomorrow Jas said. I’ll forge a note from Dad and it’ll be okay. And I said Do you promise and she said Cross my heart and hope to – but then stopped. We both thought of our dead sister on the mantelpiece and then Jas stood up and washed the cups in the kitchen sink. I’m sorry she said again as the washing up liquid made bubbles that looked like snow and sea foam and the fizz of Fanta. For lying and skiving and stuff. I said It’s okay and this time I meant it. It’s just hard she said as she scrubbed the cups. To think of anything else. To keep away from him. You’ll understand one day. I didn’t say anything, but I thought I understood just fine.
I apologised to Sunya over three hundred times. Whenever Mrs Farmer stopped talking I said Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry without even taking a breath. For some reason it didn’t work and she was all quiet and sad. At lunchtime we sat on our bench but Daniel shouted Are you getting curry for Christmas, Curry Germs and threw a snowball at her head. I wanted to say something but I didn’t and Sunya ran off and spent the rest of lunch in the girls’ toilets. I think Daniel knows it was Sunya who put the dicks in his stable ’cos he’s being nastier to her than ever before.
I couldn’t concentrate all day ’cos Mum was on her way. I couldn’t do maps or Victorians or writing neatly in paragraphs. I just stared at my books and wrote nothing. I kept my pen in my hand so Mrs Farmer wouldn’t shout at me and tell Mum I was a lazy boy. When school finished I felt tired, as if I’d been awake and waiting for 3.15pm for a million years.
My appointment was first. Mrs Farmer said Go and meet your parents and I will be with you in five minutes. I went outside and saw Dad’s car and I was relieved when he whirred down the window and said Hi in a voice that wasn’t too drunk. He said What’s wrong ’cos my head kept twisting and my heart was banging and my knees were shaking and my mouth was dry. There were lots of cars in the carpark, but none of them contained Mum.
Dad said he needed the loo so we went inside. While he was in the boys’ toilets, I ran out of the door and sprinted up the drive to double check the sign. It definitely said Ambleside Church of England Primary so Mum couldn’t have driven past without seeing the school. My Spider-Man top was soaking ’cos of the snow and it stuck to my skin and looked stupid. The sleeves felt bigger than ever and goose bumps prickled against the red and blue material.
I waited and waited and waited. Snow fell heavily. Flakes stuck to my eyelashes. There was a gust of icy wind and I wrapped my arms around my chest. And then I heard a car.
A woman was driving. A woman with long hair, just like Mum’s. I ran towards her, waving my hand. I slipped and fell over and my kneecap hit the snow, which had orange spots where the caretaker had sprinkled grit. The car indicated into the drive.
Mum I shouted. She had come. I felt so happy that I couldn’t even move, even though I was still on my hands and knees in the snow on the road. Mum. The woman drove forward slowly, leaning over the steering wheel, the windscreen wipers moving quickly as snow fell on the glass. I waved again and looked into the car. The woman stared back, her eyes scrunched under glasses as though she was confused.
Mum doesn’t wear glasses.
I looked again. Mum doesn’t have brown hair either. The woman, someone else’s mum, pointed to the pavement. She wanted me to move but I couldn’t stand up, and it wasn’t happiness but something much more scary that kept me on my knees. She beeped three times. I crawled to the side of the road.
Dad found me by a wall. He said What the bloody hell are you doing and grabbed me by the shoulder. He pulled me to my feet and I don’t know how we got there ’cos my mind was three hundred miles away in London, but all of a sudden I was sitting in front of Mrs Farmer and she was saying I got an A for my story about Jesus’ birth.
Mum had lied again. She said good grades can get me anything I want. But what I wanted was for h
er to be at Parents’ Evening and she wasn’t there.
Dad looked impressed and said Can I see it. He pretended to read a bit and then said Well done, but I felt nothing. Numb. And not ’cos of the snow. Mrs Farmer had a little heater under the desk and it had warmed my feet right up. Mrs Farmer said something, and Dad said something, and Mrs Farmer said something else then looked at me as if she expected an answer. So I said Yes, and I didn’t even care that I hadn’t heard the question. Mrs Farmer smiled so I must have said the right thing and then she asked What secondary school will he be going to next year and Dad said Grasmere and Mrs Farmer said Is that where the twins go. Dad said Excuse me and all of a sudden I was paying attention.
Is that where the twins go Mrs Farmer asked again and Dad rubbed a hand over his chin and the whiskers made a scratchy noise. Twins he said, as if he didn’t understand, and Mrs Farmer looked confused and said Rose and – oh what’s the other one called and Dad didn’t speak and I didn’t speak and the wind howled outside.
Jas goes to Grasmere Dad said at last. I wanted to kick Mrs Farmer on the shin to stop her from speaking but that type of thing only works in books. And how about Rose she asked.
Dad said Rose has gone to a better place and Mrs Farmer asked A private school and Dad swallowed but didn’t reply. Mrs Farmer went red and said Well, anyway and she grabbed my pile of work and started flicking through it. James has written some beautiful pieces about your family. She pulled out my English book and I wanted to shout NOOOOO, but Mrs Farmer had already passed it to Dad. He read My Wonderful Summer Holiday, Our Brilliant Family and My Magical Christmas and the book shook in his hand. Mrs Farmer waited for Dad to say Well done. She stared at me as I stared at Dad and Dad stared at the lies I’d written about Rose.
My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece Page 10
