My Sister Jodie by Jacqueline Wilson Page B

tragically maimed.’
    â€˜Don’t, Jodie!’ I said. ‘That’s horrible!’
    â€˜She
did
fall. Someone told me in the village. It was years and years ago, before she was married,’ said Harley.
    â€˜Truly?’ I said. ‘How awful! I wonder
how
she fell? You don’t think someone really pushed her, do you?’
    â€˜Maybe we’ll try to find out. We’ll solve the Mystery of Melchester,’ said Jodie.
    She wandered along the corridor. One of the doors was off its hinges, but we didn’t spot any dead wives when we peeped in, not a single coffin. It was just old school junk: broken computers, wobbly desks, and stacks of cheap plastic chairs, big ones, medium-sized ones and little ones.
    â€˜Oh, it’s too big. Oh, it’s too soft. Oh, oh, oh, it’s just right!’
said Jodie in a funny Goldilocks voice, trying out all three sizes.
    She tried another room while Harley and I stacked the chairs back neatly. She just took a running push at the door and it creaked open.
    â€˜Jodie! Don’t! You mustn’t break the lock!’
    â€˜It was broken already. Come and look!’ she called.
    We found her kneeling amongst big cardboard boxes and battered trunks, pulling out limp paper-chains and tinsel and winding them round her neck like garlands. One of the trunks had old costumes from school plays.
    â€˜Now you have to admit, this is seriously cool,’ said Jodie. She snatched up a white veil and a long blue dress. ‘Oh, wow, I’ve always wanted to be Mary,’ she said, still rummaging. ‘No, no, look, even better,
white feathers
! Blow Mary, I’ll be the Angel Gabriel, then I can wear wings.’ She pinned them on her back and flapped around the room.
    I fingered the fruit-gum jewels on the three cardboard crowns wistfully. I wanted to play at being a queen but I’d feel too silly in front of Harley. Then I found a lovely smooth black velvety coat and I slipped it on, stroking the sleeves.
    â€˜I like your coat, Pearl! What else is there? What’s that brown furry one? Are these the Three Wise Kings’ robes?’ Jodie put on the brown fur and tried to tie the long thin belt round her waist.
    â€˜Weird belt! It’s more like a tail,’ she muttered.
    â€˜It
is
a tail!’ said Harley. ‘You’re Ratty! And you’re Mole, Pearl.’ He delved into the trunk and found a large coarse black fur coat with a white streak down the front. He tried it on, grinning. ‘Who am I, Pearl?’
    â€˜Badger!’
I said.
    There was a bright green spotted mac at the bottom of the trunk, a perfect Toad outfit.
    â€˜You’d make a great Toad, Jodie,’ said Harley. ‘Leap around going
Parp-parp
.’
    â€˜Parp-parp! Poop-poop!’
said Jodie, flinging the Toad mac over her head and doing little froggyleaps around the room. She tripped in her high heels and ended up sprawling on the floor, laughing.
    â€˜How old are we? Mucking around like little kids!’ she said breathlessly.
    â€˜You’re the number one mucker,’ said Harley.
    â€˜Charmingly put! I wonder if they’ll do a play this year? I want to be in it. Is there a proper stage here, Harley?’
    â€˜Of sorts. So, Dame Jodie, this is presumably the start of your acclaimed acting career?’ said Harley.
    â€˜Do not mock! My moment of fame will come, you’ll see,’ said Jodie. ‘I’m going to be a mega star.’
    â€˜Do you want to act too, Pearl?’ Harley asked.
    â€˜I like dressing up and pretending, but not in front of people!’ I said.
    â€˜So what do you want to do?’
    â€˜I think I want to write,’ I said shyly.
    â€˜She’s written heaps and heaps. You should get her to show you. Some of her stories are brilliant,’ said Jodie.
    â€˜No, they’re not, they’re rubbish,’ I said, blushing. ‘And my stories aren’t anywhere
near
as