My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece (12 page)

Where are we
I asked as Sunya looked all around and then turned the handle of a hidden door. I followed her inside, blinking a few times as my eyes got used to the dark. The room smelled like cobwebs and mud.
This is the P.E. storeroom
she said as she closed the door and sat on a large ball.
I used to hide in here when everyone called me Curry Germs
. I didn’t know what to say to that so I picked up a tennis ball and bounced it on the ground. She reached forward and caught it.
What’s wrong, Jamie
. I tried to laugh but it sounded false. She waited until I stopped and then whispered
What happened
.

Hot blood rushed into my face and my bruises throbbed. I wanted to tell her but I felt too ashamed. The fat dinner lady blew the whistle and I turned towards the door. Sunya grabbed my hand. I looked down. My white fingers looked nice in her dark ones. She stood up. She was so close I could see a tiny freckle just above her lip that I’d never noticed before. She dropped my hand and put her fingers on the right sleeve of my t-shirt. I shouted
DON’T
but she lifted it up, peeling it back slowly and gently like she knew that my arm was sore. And when she saw the bruise above my elbow, her sparkly eyes shone with tears.
Daniel
she asked, and I nodded.

The whistle blew again so we couldn’t talk. We crept out of the door and crawled up the slope and joined the rest of the children without being seen. Through History and Science, Sunya stared at Daniel and I was scared she would say something and make it worse. But she seemed to know how I felt ’cos she kept her mouth shut and when it was lunchtime we went back to the storeroom.

I like it in there. It’s quiet and cool and secret. We sat on a mat and shared sandwiches and I told her about the fight. She bit her lip and shook her head and swore at all the worst bits. She said
Let’s get revenge
but I said
Just forget it
and she said
But he called you a dickhead. He beat you up. We have to do something
. I was worried she meant tell a teacher but then she said
My brothers will smash his face in
. She knows like I know that teachers make things worse. I thought about Daniel getting kicked by a big boy and it made me feel good and bad all at the same time. I wanted him to get beaten up but I wanted to be brave enough to do it myself.

It went quiet for a bit and I ate the crusts of my bread as Sunya looked at my Spider-Man top. She touched it with her hand and her face was all thoughtful and I knew what she was about to ask. And this time the words like Mum and Affair and Dad and Drinking didn’t seem too big to get out.

I told her almost everything. She didn’t interrupt. Just listened and nodded. I talked about Dad’s bottles in the bin and Mum walking out to live with Nigel. I told her how I thought Mum had forgotten my birthday and how relieved I was to get the present two days later. In the dust on the floor of the storeroom, I wrote the words Mum put in the P.S. of my card, and Sunya agreed that she would visit soon. And when I explained why I couldn’t take my t-shirt off until Mum had come to see me, she understood.

All the time I’d been talking, I’d been staring at the golden square of light around the secret door. But when Sunya said those words I looked at her face. She smiled and I smiled and our hands pressed together and a firework whizzed up my arm. It started to rain but the tap on the roof was not as loud as the BOOM of my heart. I wanted to look at Sunya’s freckle so I leaned forward and stared at the brown dot above her lip.
It’s a superstition
she said and her voice was a bit higher than normal. I leaned even closer. Her breath tickled my face.
A superstition
she whispered.
That’s what you’ve got
. My nose almost touched her three shiny hairs as I said
Super what
and she said
Like those footballers that score goals and have to wear the same sweaty underpants every match for good luck
. And then we started to giggle and the freckle disappeared as her lips stretched into a smile.

All of a sudden our faces felt too close so I stood up and looked around for a ball. I found one in the corner of the storeroom and kicked it about a bit. Sunya said
Tell me about your sister
and I whacked the ball too hard and it crashed against the secret door. I said
She’s got pink hair
and Sunya said
I meant the other one
.

Sunya is a Muslim and Muslims killed my sister. I didn’t know what to say. I thought about lying but it didn’t seem right and I wished Rose had just drowned or burned to death as that would have been so much easier to explain. And then I started to laugh ’cos that was a strange thing to wish and Sunya joined in and then we just couldn’t stop.

And through all the laughter I managed to say those four words.
Muslims killed my sister
. And Sunya didn’t look shocked, or say
I’m so sorry
, or try to look sad like everyone else who’d found out. She said
It’s not funny, oh it’s not funny
but then laughed even harder, holding her sides, tears rolling down her dark cheeks. And I laughed too and my eyes were wet for the first time in five years. And I wondered if this was what the counsellor had meant when she said
It will hit you one day and then you will cry
. Somehow I don’t think she meant tears of laughter.

I
LIKE THE
taste of envelopes and I licked the shiny bit five times before I stuck the top down. I imagined Mum opening the letter in Nigel’s house, her fingers touching my dried spit, and that made me feel nice. Mrs Farmer told us it was Very Important for Mum and Dad to come to Parents’ Evening in December. She said
This is their last chance to talk to me before you go to High School next year
.
You should come with your mums and drag your dads along too
.

I got two letters off the pile in the classroom and gave one to Dad and sent one to Mum. I put a note on the top of her letter in my best joined-up handwriting.
Meet outside my new school, Ambleside Church of England Primary, on December 13th at 3.15 pm. P.S. Don’t bring Nigel
. I was going to write
I will be wearing my Spider-Man t-shirt
but I decided not to. I want it to be a surprise. I carefully folded the pages I’d torn from my sketchbook and put them in the envelope as well. A picture of me and a picture of the goldfish. Mum’ll love them.

When the letter fell into the post box, I felt excited. Parents’ Evening is still two weeks away so there is plenty of time for Mum to ask Mr Walker for time off. She won’t want to miss it. Mum always goes on and on about how school is important and good grades can get me anything that I want. She said
Put in the hard work now and you will get the rewards later in life
. I’m going to try really hard at school until December 13th so Mrs Farmer has loads of good things to say.

After I sent the letter, I sat on the wall by the post box and waited for Sunya. I felt bad leaving Dad ’cos he asked me what I wanted to do this morning. He said
Got any plans
and I almost choked on my Coco Pops. I coughed
Off to my friend’s
and he said
Oh
in this disappointed way that made me feel like I was doing something wrong. Which of course I was ’cos I was going to have lunch with a Muslim, but Dad didn’t know that. He said
I thought we could go fishing
and Jas took a huge gulp of tea and burned her tongue. I said
Sorry
and he said
Well, be back by five because I’m making tea
. Jas was fanning her tongue with her hand but her eyes still widened in shock.

Dad’s been much better since that argument with Jas. I think he realised he hadn’t been looking after us that much. He still drinks, but not in the mornings, and he has taken us to school four times this month. And he’s started asking me about lessons and stuff. Even though he doesn’t always listen to the answer, I enjoy telling him. When I said I had scored the winning goal in the football match and my team were top of the league, he said
You should have told me you were playing. I would have come to watch
, which was annoying and nice all mixed together. Jas was painting her nails when he said this and she just shook her head and winked at me and blew on her black fingernails to make them dry.

It’s good Dad has changed ’cos Jas thought my plan was rubbish. I told her about ringing Britain’s Biggest Talent Show and leaving our address so the TV people could send us information about the auditions. She said
But you need a talent to enter a Talent Show
and I said
You can sing
and she said
Not like Rose
and that made me cross ’cos it’s just not true. When the information arrived, I went to show Jas. I pointed at the date, January 5th, and the place of the nearest audition, Manchester Palace Theatre. She said
Not that again
and I said
But it might change our lives
and she said
Stop talking crap
and
Get out of my room
.

I saw Sunya before she saw me. She was running down the hill towards the post office. Her hijab flew out behind her and she really did look like a superhero, zooming through the air. In Maths last Friday, when I asked Sunya if she ever takes the hijab off, she snorted with laughter.
I only wear it outside the house or if people come round
. I said
Why do you have to cover up
and she said
Because it says so in The Koran
. And I said
What’s The Koran
and she said
It’s sort of like The Bible
. And that is the thing about Christians and Muslims – they both have a God and they both have a book. They are just called different names.

Sunya sprinted to the post box and grabbed my arm and pulled me back up the hill, talking all the time. I felt dead nervous. I’d never been inside a Muslim’s house before. I was worried that it would smell of curry like Dad said in London. I was scared that her family would be praying and talking in a different language. And I was frightened that Sunya’s dad would be making bombs in his bedroom. That’s what Dad said all Muslims do. And though I’d be surprised if Sunya’s dad was a terrorist, Dad told me that you never can tell and even the most innocent-looking people have explosives in their turbans.

When we walked through the door, a dog came bouncing up to Sunya. It was black and white with long ears and a wet nose and a tiny tail that wagged madly. Sammy the dog looked like an English pet and not a Muslim one. I sighed with relief. He was normal. And so was everything else. Sunya’s house was no different to mine. In the lounge there was a cream sofa and a nice rug and a mantelpiece that had all the right things on it – photos and candles and vases full of flowers not sisters. The only Muslim thing in the whole room was a picture of fancy buildings with domes and spires. Sunya said it was a holy place called Mecca and I laughed ’cos that was the name of the Bingo place down the road from our flat in Finsbury Park.

The kitchen was the most interesting. I’d expected it to smell of spice and have lots of big bowls full of exotic vegetables. But it was just like my kitchen except nicer ’cos there was a packet of Coco Pops on a shelf but no alcohol bottles and the bin just smelled of rubbish.

Sunya’s mum made chocolate milkshake and put a curly straw in my glass. She wore a blue headscarf and had Sunya’s sparkly eyes but her skin was lighter and her face was slower. More serious. Sunya’s face is fast. It changes ten times a minute. Her eyes grow and shrink and her freckle jumps about and her eyebrows wiggle when she talks. Sunya’s mum is calm and kind and clever. She’s got a strong accent, not like Sunya, and my name sounds different when she says it. She doesn’t seem like the type of woman who would marry a bomber, but you never know.

We drank our milkshakes in Sunya’s room. We were thirsty ’cos we’d been jumping off the bed and seeing who could stay in the air the longest. ’Cos I am Spider-Man, I had to touch the ceiling and try to stick there for as long as possible. And ’cos Sunya is Girl M, she had to flap her hijab and try to hover above the carpet. In the end it was a draw.