My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece

by Annabel Pitcher

  This was the first nicest thing I thought about in the waiting room. The second nicest thing involved two sparkling eyes and two brown hands clapping harder than anyone as I sang my last note and raised my arms into the air.

  The one hundred and fifth act went on stage. Jas’s leg started to twitch. She looked pale and young in her new clothes with her new hair and I got this strong urge to protect her. I put my arm around her shoulders, even though it was hard to reach, and she smiled and whispered Thanks. Her bones jutted out of her skin and I said You should eat more. She looked surprised. You are thin enough I said and her eyes filled with tears. Girls are strange. We held hands and waited.

  One hundred and eight. One hundred and nine. One hundred and ten. There were only two acts left before us now. The waiting room was getting empty. It smelled of sweat and face paint and old food and it was boiling ’cos the radiators were on full blast. The music started for number one hundred and eleven. The old man had only sung five notes when his CD was turned off and the judges told him that he had no talent. The audience started chanting Off Off Off Off and Jas went green. I can’t do this she said, shaking her head and holding her stomach. I really don’t think I can do this. My horoscope said not to take a risk.

  The old man came through the door that led from the stage and collapsed onto a chair. He put his bald head into his hands and his shoulders shook ’cos he was crying. TV cameras had followed him off stage and were zooming right up close and he said Get away like he was mental when really he was just upset that his dream was over. There were sequins all over his t-shirt and sequins all over his trousers and it must have taken him days to sew them all on and he only got to go on stage for ten seconds.

  I honestly can’t do this Jas said, and she was watching the old man with this terrified look on her face. My horoscope was right. This is a bad idea. I’m sorry, Jamie. She actually stood up and started walking off. Until then I thought she was just being dramatic. Wait I said and my voice came out in a squeak. I was terrified that Jas was going to leave. Please don’t go. She didn’t listen. She was running now and her pigtails were bouncing and she was near the door that said EXIT. The girl with the clipboard shouted Number one hundred and twelve and a man dressed as Michael Jackson took a deep breath and stood up. Jas was at the door. Her fingers tightened around the handle. I couldn’t let her leave. Think about Mum I shouted. Think about Dad. And Leo. She pushed open the door and icy air gushed in but Jas didn’t walk out. I ran up to her and grabbed her hand. Do you really think they’re watching she whispered, her eyes wide in her white face. Yes I replied. Leo dropped us off and he promised that – She shook her head. Not Leo she said, biting her lip too hard. A tiny spot of blood trickled out of a cut. She dabbed it with her finger. She’d even taken the black polish off her nails and had painted them pale pink. Mum.

  That flicker came back again, stronger than ever before, and for the first time I knew exactly what it was. Doubt. If envy is red then doubt is black and the room went all dark and it was the opposite of the egg yolk car. Everything looked ugly and everything felt hopeless. I thought about my birthday and the P.S. and Parents’ Evening but I nodded and said She’s here.

  She didn’t come for Christmas Jas said in the tiniest voice I’d ever heard her use. A tear dripped down her cheek as the music for Michael Jackson’s Thriller started on stage. No I said, my insides in a knot. But she probably thought that she wasn’t invited. Jas looked at me with watery eyes. I invited her she whispered and the knot got tighter. I remembered how Jas kept glancing out of the window on Christmas Day. I sent her a card and asked her to come and cook the turkey. She was crying hard now and it was difficult to hear what she was saying and it was difficult to concentrate ’cos my tummy ached so badly. And I wrote to her before that. All about Dad and how we needed help because he drinks too much and doesn’t look after us properly. But she didn’t come, Jamie. She’s abandoned us.

  On TV, my worst advert is one called Sponsor A Dog. It shows all these different dogs that have been left by their owners in bins or boxes or by the side of lonely roads. There’s always sad music playing and the dogs’ tails are all droopy and their eyes are full of pain. This man with a London accent goes on and on about how they’ve been left, and how nobody in the world loves them enough to take care of them. And that is what abandoned means.

  Mum loves us I said, but all I could hear in my head was the London accent saying Jamie needs a new owner, and I had to block it out. Mum loves us Mum loves us Mum lo—Jas shook her head and her pigtails wobbled by her ears. She doesn’t, Jamie she replied, her voice all strangled. Tears dripped off her chin. How can she. She walked out on us. On my BIRTHDAY. Jas shouted this last bit ’cos I’d put my hands over my ears to shut out the words. I started singing the Michael Jackson song. I didn’t want to hear any more. My birthday she said again, pulling my hands away from my head and closing my lips with her fingers. And we haven’t heard from her since. I struggled free. You’re lying I yelled, stamping my foot, suddenly angry. The knife thrower looked at us and shook his head but I didn’t care. My blood was on fire and it burned through my body and I wanted to kick and thump and scream and shout and let it all out in a massive volcano. That’s not true. Mum sent me a present and it was the best present I ever got and I love it and YOU’RE LYING.

  The music for Thriller stopped.

  Number one hundred and thirteen.

  Jas opened her mouth to say something. I waited, panting, but then she shook her head as if changing her mind. Fine. Mum sent you a birthday present. Big deal.

  Number one hundred and thirteen the girl with the clipboard said again, sounding fed up. She looked from an old lady in tap shoes, to a little boy with a parrot, to me and Jas. Where are you. One one three can you come forward now.

  Jas wiped her eyes and stared down at her outfit. Look at me she said quietly, smoothing down her flowery dress. Look at you. I touched the safety pins on the sleeve of my t-shirt. Look at what we’ve done for them. And for what, Jamie. Mum won’t have left Nigel to come up here Jas said and she put her hand on my head and it felt safe and I stopped panting and tried to calm down. And Dad’ll be too drunk to get out of bed. It’s a waste of time. I put my hand on top of hers. But it might not be I said and I swallowed all the doubt and all the disappointment and all the anger and they were almost too big, like vitamin pills that are difficult to get down even with water. Please, Jas. Please. Just in case they’re watching. I don’t want to give up on them. Jas closed her eyes as if she was thinking.

  Number one hundred and thirteen the girl shouted, tapping a pen on the clipboard. You are running out of time. The judges are waiting and if you don’t come, like, right NOW then you will miss your chance.

  I touched Jas’s arm. Please. She opened her eyes and stared at me then shook her head. It’s a waste of time, Jamie. They’re not here. I can’t stand to see you disappointed. Not again.

  Number one hundred and thirteen. The girl looked around the room one last time and then drew a big cross on the clipboard. Fine. Let’s have number one hundred and fourteen instead.

  MY LEGS GAVE way and I crashed to the floor. My head sank into my hands. The taps on the feet of the old lady echoed through the waiting room as she walked towards the stage door.

  WAIT Jas yelled and my heart stopped beating. WAIT. We’re one hundred and thirteen. We’re here.

  I looked up and Jas offered me her hand. I grabbed it and she pulled me to my feet. I’m doing this for you she whispered and the corners of my mouth almost touched my earlobes as I grinned my biggest grin ever. Not for Mum. Not for Dad. Not for Rose. You. Us. I nodded and we ran forward and my heart started with a THUMP that shook my ribs. The girl with the clipboard sighed impatiently. I shouldn’t let you go on she snapped but she opened the stage door and we sprinted up the stairs and all of a sudden there were lights and cameras and hundreds of eyes shining in the darkness of the theatre.

  We walked onto the stage. The audience went
quiet. I recognised one of the two judges from TV. He rolled his eyes when he saw my top. And you are he said. I didn’t know if the right answer was Spider-Man, or James Aaron Matthews, or just Jamie, so I said all three. The audience did one of those sniggers and I wondered if Mum and Dad and Sunya had joined in. Jas squeezed my fingers. They were all sticky with sweat. And who are you the man said and my sister replied Jasmine Rebecca Matthews, and he said Not Supergirl or Catwoman in this dead sarcastic way. Jas’s arm started to shake. I wanted to kick the judge for scaring her.

  What are you going to do for us today the lady judge asked. I whispered A song and a dance. The man yawned. How original he said and hundreds of people laughed and the lady hit him on the wrist and said Behave but then she giggled too. I tried to smile as if I was in on the joke but my teeth were too dry and my top lip got stuck. What are you going to sing the lady said when everything went quiet. Jas whispered The Courage To Fly. Both of the judges groaned and the man banged his head on the desk and the audience exploded with laughter all over again. I looked up at Jas. She was trying to be brave but I could see tears in her eyes and I felt bad ’cos she was taking this risk for me and it wasn’t paying off. I half expected Dad to defend us or Mum to run onto the stage and say Don’t you dare do that to my kids. But nothing happened.

  The man said Get on with it then like we were boring him and all of a sudden I didn’t want to do the dance and I didn’t want to do the song. They felt too precious to perform in front of people who didn’t understand. It was hot under the lights and the Spider-Man top stuck to my body. It felt bigger than ever, or I felt smaller than ever, and I knew that it didn’t look good. Mum would be disappointed and I felt guilty, as if I was letting her down.

  We didn’t have a CD and no one counted us in so we didn’t know when to start. We just sort of stood there. Everyone was waiting. A few people booed. I didn’t want Mum or Dad to hear them but I didn’t dare sing. The audience started chanting Off Off Off Off and Jas’s whole body was shaking now, not just her arm. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. It was all going wrong and I didn’t know how to fix it.

  Off Off Off Off.

  Panic rose inside my chest like one of those waves at the beach that suddenly crashes down and drenches everything. Get these two off the man shouted suddenly, waving his hand as if he was flicking away a fly. They’re a waste of time.

  NO. Jas said this loudly, more of a shout than anything, and the audience fell silent. NO. The judges looked at Jas in surprise. She stared back all brave and brilliant and the tears were gone and the shakes had vanished and suddenly she was my sister on the swing, smiling at the sky as if nothing in the world could frighten her. And ’cos she wasn’t scared, I wasn’t scared. And then we started to sing.

  Your smile lifts my soul into the sky. Your strength gives me the courage to fly.

  A kite, I soar so grounded yet free. Your love brings out the be—

  We got further than the old man. Maybe fifteen or sixteen notes in. I didn’t hear the judge say Stop ’cos I was running round the back of the stage flapping my wings like a fairy, or a bird, or whatever is supposed to be flying in the song. When I realised that Jas had stopped singing, my arms flopped to my side and the walk back to the front of the stage felt longer than a marathon, which Mrs Farmer says is twenty six point two miles and not very good for your knee joints.

  I have never been so impressed and so disgusted at the same time the man said. That was brilliant and awful. Fantastic and terrible. I had no idea what he was going on about and I wasn’t really listening ’cos I was looking at the audience to see if I could spot Mum. You were the awful part the man said, pointing at me. I mean, was that supposed to be dancing. It was a question but it didn’t seem to need an answer so I just shrugged. The man did one of those smirks and folded his arms and the audience laughed. But you he went on, pointing at Jas. You were the brilliant part. That was absolutely magnificent. Where did you learn to sing like that. Jas looked surprised and said Mum taught me when I was little but I haven’t sung for five years. The man whispered something behind his hand to the lady. The cameras zoomed in on them and then on us. The audience held its breath. Yes, yes, I agree the lady said and the man turned to us with a smile. We’d like you to try again he said and Jas nodded and I got ready to flutter my arms and sing the first note. Without the dance moves. Without your brother.

  Jas looked at me as if she didn’t know what to do, but I raised my thumb. It was better for her to go through than us both to go out. And I know she’s better than me so it wasn’t really a shock. I can sing okay but she’s the one with the voice of an angel. I hoped Dad was paying attention.

  The man pointed to some steps at the side of the stage that led into the audience. I walked over to them and sat down as Jas took a deep breath. The lights on the stage disappeared, all except one. It dazzled Jas and made her blink. The man folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. The lady put her chin on her hand. Jas walked forward and the spotlight followed. When you’re ready the man said and Jas began. Quiet at first. Shaky. But after a couple of lines her shoulders relaxed and her mouth widened and the sound was beautiful. It flew into the air like that kite at St. Bees.

  Jas sang with every bit of her body. She sang with her eyes and her hands and her heart and when she hit the top note the audience was on their feet and the judges were clapping and everyone was cheering but no one as loudly as me. I forgot where I was. I forgot I was on stage in front of hundreds of people and maybe Mum and maybe Dad and loads of TV cameras. I forgot everything but my sister and the words of her song. They made sense for the first time and gave me a brave feeling like that lion in the sky was somewhere in my chest.

  The song finished. Jas took a little bow as the whole theatre roared. The judges pointed at me and then at the middle of the stage. I stood up and I felt like a different boy and I hoped Mum would notice how my shoulders pushed back and how my chest puffed out as if it was a big bagpipe that a Scottish man had blown pride into.

  Well, it was a rubbish song the man started. The audience booed but this time they were on our side. A really horrible choice. I grinned and Jas grinned. We didn’t care what the judges thought. Not any more. The dance was appalling the man went on. And young Spider-Man here, well, you might be a superhero but you certainly can’t sing. Jas put her hand on my shoulder. But you, young lady. Let’s just say – he paused dramatically and looked Jas right in the eye – that was the best audition I have seen today. The audience clapped. We’ll see you in the next round. The audience cheered. Without your brother, of course. The audience laughed. Next the man shouted and it was time to leave. I started walking off the stage.

  You won’t Jas said and I stopped and spun round and the judges raised their eyebrows. We won’t what the man said. Jas’s voice was loud and clear as she replied You won’t see me in the next round. The audience gasped. The man looked shocked. Don’t be ridiculous he said. This is a chance of a lifetime. This competition could change your life. Jas grabbed my hand and squeezed. What if we don’t want it to change she said and then she looked, not at the judges, but out into the audience. She raised her voice and I knew who she was talking to. I won’t audition without Jamie. I won’t abandon my brother. Families should stick together.

  We walked off the stage to the sound of cheers that went on for ages. The girl with the clipboard shook her head but all the other acts gathered round. They said That was brilliant and Congratulations and, even though it was mostly for Jas, I reckon a little bit was for me and it felt good. I offered my hand to our fans and shook every single one like Leo or Wayne Rooney and my t-shirt seemed to fit and I felt grown up. Maybe it was different to be in double figures after all. Then we sat down and waited for the show to finish and we didn’t speak ’cos our happiness was too big for words.

  Let’s find Leo Jas said an hour later when the final act, a man who sang opera while standing on his head, had finished. We walked out of the waiting room. It was d
ark outside and snow was still falling. We walked into the main entrance and there were these big sparkly lights all posh on the ceiling that looked like huge dangly earrings. The carpet was red and the banisters were gold and the theatre smelled of sweets and success. I was searching for Sunya and searching for Dad and searching searching searching for Mum, a smile the size of a new moon on my face.

  We pushed our way through the crowd and everyone was looking and nodding and smiling ’cos they recognised us from the stage. One man put his hand into the air to do a high five but I missed. And an old lady croaked You made me cry and I said Shut up but Jas said Thanks so it must have been a compliment, even though it sounded mean. Jas was looking for spiky green and I was looking for sparkly brown and our necks were long and our eyes were darting and our feet were striding and our heads were twisting and then we

  STOPPED. We saw them at exactly the same moment. Twenty metres away. Two faces, staring in opposite directions. Silent. Like strangers. Not Leo. Not Sunya. Mum and Dad.

  Mum!

  I shouted it as loud as I could but she didn’t hear.