You’re a loser Daniel said and everyone said things like Yeah and What a gay boy. And they were right. I took a step backwards. I didn’t want to get my head kicked in. It hurt too much last time. Daniel turned back to Sunya. He grabbed the hijab with his fat fingers. Sunya started to cry. The crowd chanted Off off off off.
It reminded me of something. Of being on stage. Of the audience at the talent show.
I wasn’t in the playground any more. I was in the theatre, watching Jas. And those words, the words of her song, thundered through my veins.
The playground came back in full sound and full colour. Sunya was sobbing. The hijab was half off. The crowd were cheering. Daniel was laughing. And I was letting him.
NO.
I shouted it as loud as I could. Screamed it. NO. Daniel turned around in surprise. I pulled back my fist. Daniel’s jaw dropped. I charged at him with all the anger that I’d ever felt. His eyes widened in fear. And when my knuckles hit his nose, Daniel collapsed on the floor. I hit him again, even harder, my fist smacking against his cheek. Sunya looked up. Stared at me in amazement. I kicked Daniel three times and each time my foot crunched against his bones I said a different word. LEAVE. HER. ALONE.
Ryan ran off. The crowd backed away. They were scared. Daniel was lying on the floor with his hands over his face. He was crying. I could have kicked him again. I could have stamped on him, or elbowed him, or thumped him in the stomach. But I didn’t want to. I didn’t need to. I’d just won my Wimbledon. The fat dinner lady blew the whistle.
MRS FARMER SENT me to the Headmaster but it was worth it and I only missed a bit of History. When it was time to go home, I got my coat and four people said Bye. They’d never talked to me before. I said Goodbye and they said See you later and one boy asked You coming to football training tomorrow. I nodded my head really fast. Definitely I replied and he said Cool. Daniel heard all this but kept quiet. He didn’t even dare look at me. His nose had stopped bleeding but it was bruised. And his cheeks were red ’cos he’d been crying all afternoon. Tears had dripped all over his fractions, smudging the answers.
I only did four questions in Maths. I felt all light and fizzy, lemonade in my veins, and my thoughts popped and bubbled in my brain. My leg kept twitching and it brushed against Sunya’s five times in one hour. Three times by accident. Twice on purpose. She didn’t say Stop it, or Your leg is bad news, or anything like that. She just gazed at the fractions and bit the top of her pen and I got the feeling she was trying not to smile.
I walked out of school and the sky was turquoise and there was a massive golden sun. It looked like a huge beach ball floating on a perfect blue sea. I hoped the sun was strong enough to shine right underground. I hoped Roger could feel it all warm on his body. I hoped he wasn’t scared or lonely in his grave. I had a sharp pain in my chest then, like indigestion when you’ve eaten too many slices of pizza at one of those All-You-Can-Eat things. I leaned against a wall and put a hand on my heart and waited for it to pass. It faded to a dull ache but it didn’t go away.
I heard footsteps and the tinkle of metal. I turned my head to see Sunya running towards me. Walking off without saying goodbye she said, putting her hands on her hips. The sparkle was back and it was brighter than ever. Her hijab was brilliant yellow and her teeth were dazzling white and her eyes shone with the strength of a million suns. She climbed onto the wall and sat next to me and crossed her legs and I just stared at her as though she was a nice view, or a good painting, or an interesting display on the classroom wall. The freckle above her lip jumped about ’cos she was talking. Walking off without letting me say thank you. I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep from smiling. Thank you I asked, as if I had no idea what she was talking about. For what. She leaned forward and put her chin on her hand. That’s when I noticed the thin blue circle wrapped around her middle finger.
If envy is red and doubt is black then happiness is brown. I looked from the little brown stone to the tiny brown freckle to her huge brown eyes. For saving me she replied as I tried to act cool. For smashing Daniel’s face in. She was wearing the Blu-Tack ring. She was actually wearing the Blu-Tack ring. Sunya was my friend. It was nothing I said. It was amazing Sunya replied and she started to laugh. And the thing about Sunya is, once she starts, she just can’t stop, and it makes you laugh too. Don’t thank me, Girl M I said, my sides aching and my smile bigger than a banana. Thank Spider-Man. Sunya put her hand on my shoulder and stopped giggling. You were better than Spider-Man she whispered in my ear.
It was too hot and there wasn’t enough air. I looked at the snow melting on the ground and it was suddenly dead interesting and Very Important to kick it with my foot loads of times. I’ll walk back with you she said. She stood up on the wall and jumped really high and landed by my side. Your mum I said, looking all around in case she was watching. She said I’m bad news. Sunya linked my arm and grinned. Mums and dads don’t know anything.
On the way back, I told Sunya about Roger. I’m so sorry she said. He was a nice cat. She’d never met him but it didn’t matter. Roger was a nice cat. The nicest cat. Everyone knew that. We bumped into the old man with the flat cap. Fred wagged his tail and licked my hand. It left a trail of sticky spit but I didn’t mind. You okay, lad the old man asked, sucking his pipe. The smoke smelled like Bonfire Night. How’re you feeling. I shrugged. I understand the old man replied seriously. I lost my old dog Pip last year and it still hurts now. Got this rascal four months ago he went on, pointing at Fred. Damn hard work he is. Fred jumped up and put his paws on my tummy. Seems to like you though the old man said, scratching his head with the end of his pipe as if he was thinking. Now here’s an idea. Why don’t you come and give me a hand with young Fred. You can help me walk him. I stroked Fred’s grey ears. That would be the best thing ever I said and the old man grinned. Good. Good. I live in that house over there. He pointed at a white building a few metres away. Make sure you ask your mother he said. I haven’t got a proper mum I replied. But I’ll ask Dad. The old man patted my head. You do that, lad he said. Down, Fred. Fred ignored him so I grabbed his feet and pushed him off gently. His paws were fat and squishy. The old man clipped a lead on Fred’s collar and hobbled off down the road, waving his pipe to say goodbye. I’ll come too Sunya said as we started walking again. I’ll bring Sammy and we will have adventures.
We stopped at a shop. Sunya wanted to buy something for Roger. She only had fifty pence, so she bought a small red flower. When she paid, I saw something brown and fluffy on the counter. It gave me an idea. I got out my birthday money from Granny.
The cottage drive was empty. Dad’s car wasn’t there. I should’ve felt guilty that I was letting a Muslim near our house when he was at the building site. But I didn’t. Sunya’s mum doesn’t like me. Dad doesn’t like Sunya. But just ’cos they’re grown-ups, doesn’t mean they’re always right.
That’s where Roger’s buried I said, pointing to a rectangle of fresh mud in the back garden. Just under there. Sunya knelt down and touched the grave. He was a lovely cat. I crouched down. The loveliest cat I replied. She held out her hand and looked at the ring on her middle finger. There’s something you don’t know she said in this low voice that gave me goose bumps. About the rings. I stared at the little brown stone. What I asked. What about them. Sunya looked all around the garden to make sure no one was listening, then grabbed my t-shirt and pulled me close. They can bring things back to life she whispered. I didn’t speak though I had a billion questions. But only at night time. If we put the stones together on top of Roger’s grave, when the clock strikes twelve, he will have the power to climb out of the ground and catch mice and play in the garden. I started to smile. Will he come and see me I asked. Of course Sunya said. That is part of the magic. He’ll jump right through your window and lie next to you and purr. He’ll be all warm and furry but he’ll disappear when you wake up. He’ll go back to his underground bed and he’ll sleep all day so that he has lots of energy for his next midnight adventure.
There was a knock at the window. I jumped up and stood in front of Sunya, scared it was Dad, but it was just Jas, home from school. Next to her pink head was a bright green one. Jas smiled happily and waved at Sunya, who peered around my legs and waved back. Jas pulled Leo by the hand and dragged him into the lounge, kissing him on the lips before they disappeared through the door.
The garden suddenly felt too small. There was nowhere to look and my arms felt clumsy and I was very aware of Sunya’s body near my legs. I should go she said, climbing to her feet but not meeting my eyes. Her hands and knees were wet through. My mum’ll kill me if I’m back too late.
So much had happened that day, it felt strange saying goodbye. I didn’t want her to leave. Sunya wiped her fingers on her thighs and held out her hand. Friends forever she asked, her voice a bit higher than normal. Friends forever I replied. We shook hands quickly, my palm hot against hers. When we let go, we glanced at each other, and then looked away.
I focused on a robin that was sitting on a branch. Its chest was red and its wings were brown and its beak was open and it was singing as if—
Jamie.
I jumped. Sunya smiled. Her hands moved up to her head. Brown fingers curled around the yellow material.
She pulled the hijab down.
Forehead.
Hair.
Straight shiny hair that fell all the way to her shoulders in a black silk curtain.
She blinked shyly. I moved closer. She was even prettier without the scarf. I looked at Sunya, really looked at her, trying to take everything in. Then I zoomed forward and kissed her freckle, and it was exciting and frightening, just like the Headmaster had said our resolution should be.
Sunya gasped and ran off, her perfect hair swishing in the wind. See you tomorrow she called over her shoulder, looking back one last time. I was worried I’d scared her but she touched the freckle and grinned and blew a kiss right at my face. Her eyes twinkled more than diamonds and I felt like the luckiest, richest boy on the planet.
I went inside and climbed the stairs and stared in the mirror. I was too big for the Spider-Man t-shirt. I pulled it over my head and threw it on the floor and checked my reflection. The superhero had disappeared. In his place stood a boy. In his place stood Jamie Matthews. I had a shower and put on a pair of pyjamas.
Dad got home at six. He made beans on toast. We ate it in front of the TV and he asked about our days. Fine I said and Okay Jas replied. She wouldn’t say anything about Sunya and I wouldn’t say anything about Leo. It was nice to have a secret. Jas only had two bites of toast and Dad had three beers. If Ofsted inspected my family then I know what grade we’d get. Satisfactory. Okay but not brilliant. But that’s fine by me.
Much later, I went into Jas’s room, something hidden behind my back. She was painting her fingernails black and listening to music. There were lots of guitars and screaming and shouting. What do you want she said, wiggling her hands in the air to make them dry. You sent the t-shirt, didn’t you I asked. Her hands stopped moving and she looked worried. It’s okay I said. I don’t mind. She blew on her fingers. Yeah. Sorry. I just didn’t want you to think Mum had forgotten. I sat on her bed. It was a good present. She dipped the brush in the black pot. You don’t mind that it wasn’t from Mum she asked, painting her little finger. I like it better ’cos it’s from you I replied. I got you this. I held out the brown, fluffy bear. To replace Burt. I pulled his eyes off and everything.
Jas put the new Burt on her lap, careful not to get polish on his fur. I stretched from the mattress to the stereo and stopped the music. I want to tell you something I said. Something important. Jas stroked Burt’s fur. You know the song you sang on stage. She nodded slowly. That’s exactly how I feel about you. Jas blinked back tears. The nail polish must have been really strong to make her eyes water. Your strength gives me the courage to fly I sang badly and Jas elbowed me in the ribs. Get out of my room, you sickly little bastard she said. But she was smiling.
And so was I.
This novel started out as a simple idea and a few scribbles on a notepad. Without the help of some important people, it would never have turned into the book in your hands.
Thanks to Jackie Head, who picked My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece out of the slush pile and changed my life one day with a phone call. Warmest thanks to my agent, Catherine Clarke, for guiding me with such wisdom and intelligence. To all the team at Orion, thank you for doing such a great job and for getting so many people excited about my book. And a special thanks to my editor, Fiona Kennedy, for treating the manuscript with such understanding and respect while drawing the very best out of the story.
Above all, thanks to my family and friends, who were there before the book and will be there long after it. In particular, I am indebted to my brother and sisters, my mum and dad and my wonderful husband. Much like Sunya, you make life sparkle.
Annabel Pitcher
West Yorkshire
July 2010
Annabel Pitcher is currently working on her second novel, Ketchup Clouds, which will be published in 2012
AN ORION CHILDREN’S EBOOK
First published in Great Britain in 2011 by Orion Children’s Books.
This eBook first published in 2011 by Orion Children’s Books.
Copyright © Annabel Pitcher 2011
The right of Annabel Pitcher to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, designs and patents act 1988.
All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN: 978 1 4440 0337 6
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My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece Page 16
