Sunny Days and Moon Cakes
Read Sunny Days and Moon Cakes Online
Authors: Sarah Webb
“Life itself is the most wonderful fairy tale.”
– Hans Christian Andersen
For Simone, Lola and Rosa Michel
Dear Reader,
Thank you for picking up
Sunny Days and Moon Cakes
. I’ve wanted to write a book about sisters for a long time. I have two sisters. I’m the eldest, Kate’s in the middle and Emma is the youngest. So I know all about being a sister! As teenagers we used to fight a bit, but now we are really close. In this book, Sunny and her little sister, Min, are also very close. They’re both from China originally, but they now live with their new parents on a small island called Little Bird.
Sunny’s life isn’t easy. She has an anxiety disorder called selective mutism and she finds talking to people other than members of her direct family terrifying. She gets terribly nervous and her throat closes up. She only ever talks to Min and her parents. Her greatest wish is to be able to speak like everyone else. Does Sunny’s wish come true? You’ll have to read on to find out…
It took me a long time to research selective mutism as I wanted to get it right. I was lucky to meet a mum early on who has daughters with the condition and she was really helpful: reading my manuscript and talking to me about her daughters’ lives. I also watched a lot of documentaries and read academic books. An expert in the field, a UK speech therapist called Maggie Johnson, was also a great help.
It’s amazing how kind people are if you ask them for help with research! Lots of researching went into this book – not just about selective mutism, but about many other things too. I even got to visit Hong Kong and fly in a helicopter with the Irish Coast Guard. To find out why, you’ll have to read the book.
I loved writing Sunny’s story and I hope you will like reading it.
Best and many wishes,
Sarah XXX
P.S. For teacher’s notes on using The Songbird Cafe Girls series in the classroom, see
www.SarahWebb.ie
.
“Sunny!”
My little sister, Min, runs into my bedroom, trips over the edge of my zebra-print rug and ends up in a heap on the floor. “Oops!” She jumps up and giggles. “Ready for your birthday party?” she asks.
I stop sketching to pull a face at her. “Do I have to go?”
“Sunny, of course you do! Alanna’s organized it for you.”
Alanna is the kindest person I know and she has always been wonderful to me. She’s planned a birthday party for me at the Songbird Cafe, which she owns and runs. I can’t let her down by not being there.
And it doesn’t look like Min’s going to give me a choice anyway. She yanks my arm, pulling me out of my chair. For a tiny thing, she’s surprisingly strong.
“Come on, lazy head!” she says, dragging me out of my bedroom and down the long corridor. I almost stumble over one of the loose boards in the floor.
Our home is full of holes. We live in a castle, you see, a
real
castle on Little Bird Island. I know! Crazy, isn’t it?
Living in a castle is a lot of fun. The bedrooms are all on the ground floor, along with the kitchen. Then there’s our huge living room on the first floor, which has a second-floor mezzanine, or loft, suspended above one end of it. There’s also a small third floor that opens onto the roof parapets – built-up walls with wide slots like gappy teeth that were designed to protect soldiers on the roof from being attacked.
Our castle was built in the fifteenth century. It sits on top of a hill, and you can see all the way across Horseshoe Bay to the mainland from one side of the roof and out across the Atlantic Ocean from the other side. Whenever there’s a whale sighting, me and Min sit up there with Dad’s telescope and watch for their long grey backs.
I wish I could stay in my castle today. I hate going to the cafe in the afternoon when it’s full of visitors from the mainland. Being surrounded by strangers doesn’t bother Min one bit – she’s a right chatterbox and will talk to anyone. I’m the exact opposite. When I am outside the house, I go all quiet. Back in China – where I lived until I was eight – I could speak to anyone, even people I didn’t know. But then Papa died and my whole world changed.
I try not to think about the past. I need to focus on my new life. It’s hard to fit in, though, when you have no voice. In China, I knew who I was – Soon Yi, a chatterbox like Min, with lots of friends. Right now, I don’t know who I am…
As Min and I walk down the hill towards the Songbird Cafe with Mum, Min is full of questions as usual. “Will there be chocolate cake? I love chocolate cake. And fairy cakes? And…” She gabbles away, and I zone out until she asks, “Will Mollie be there, Mum?”
“I think so,” Mum says. “Alanna certainly invited her. And Landy and Cal.”
Little Bird is very small – only about two hundred people live here and only six of them are around my age: Mollie, Landy, Cal, and three other girls called Bonnie, Chloe and Lauren.
Landy and Cal are nice to me, but I wouldn’t call them friends exactly. It’s different with Mollie. We most definitely
are
friends. She doesn’t seem to mind the fact that I can’t speak to her. We communicate in other ways.
Mollie is new to the island. She only arrived in February. Her mum’s a television presenter and is always travelling, so Mollie is living with her great-granny for a while. I hope she stays for ever and ever.
“Is Cal better then?” Min asks. Cal had a really bad virus recently. He had to stay at home and rest for ages. He’s missed loads of school and no one saw him for months. Poor Cal.
Mum nods. “Much better. You OK, sweetheart?” she asks me. “We don’t have to stay long, but it would be rude not to show up. Alanna’s gone to a lot of effort for today. She wants to thank you for everything you did for the cafe. It would be closed now if it wasn’t for you, Landy and Mollie.”
A couple of months ago, developers tried to buy the Songbird Cafe and turn it into a hotel, but Mollie organized a campaign to save it, and I designed a Save the Songbird logo and posters. It worked too!
I walk on ahead, not wanting to hear any more about the party. I’m not good with crowds. Even small ones make me nervous. My heart is racing, my palms are sticky and I can feel my whole body getting more and more tense. I try taking a few deep breaths to calm myself down, like Doctor Hogan suggested. Milkshake breathing, he calls it – breathing in s-l-o-w-l-y through your nose and out s-l-o-w-l-y like you’re blowing milk through a straw and trying not to make the bubbles go over the top of the glass.
I wish I wasn’t so scared all the time. It’s my birthday. I should be happy and, knowing Alanna, she’ll have planned a terrific party. She’s probably baked me a cake too. Plus, she’s my friend, and I do want to see her. Along with Mollie, she’s my
only
close friend. I’m homeschooled by my mum, so I don’t know that many people.
Being the only one in the class can be a bit full on, so whenever I need to get out of the house – and away from Mum – Alanna lets me sit in the cafe and draw. Sometimes I help her in the kitchen – cooking, or stirring her special herbal remedies. I always feel safe when Alanna’s around, even though I can’t speak to her. If the cafe had closed down, it would have been terrible, for the island and for me. The cafe is my happy place. And I think a lot of the islanders feel the same way.
I’m even more nervous today than usual and not just because of my birthday party.
We’ve been talking about visiting mine and Min’s birth country for years now, but I didn’t think it was going to happen so soon. Then Mum and Dad brought it up again a few weeks ago, and this morning they surprised me with plane tickets to China. They said they were a special birthday present, to celebrate me turning thirteen. That’s Dad for you – once he’s made up his mind about something, it happens, quick as a flash.
Mum and Dad are so excited about the trip, Min too. But even thinking about going back to China makes me jittery. And I don’t need to feel any more anxious right now. I wish I could stop thinking about it.
I feel Mum’s hand on my shoulder. “I understand parties are hard for you, Sunny. And I’m proud of you for trying.”
I give her my best attempt at a smile. It’s not Mum’s fault I can’t relax and act like a normal person. Even Doctor Hogan isn’t sure why I’m like this, and he’s a top doctor. He’s nice, but a bit stern and he wears funny-looking spotty bow ties. He says I have an anxiety disorder called selective mutism, which means that when I get worried or nervous, my throat closes up and I can’t talk. I don’t choose not to speak – I physically can’t.
When we walk through the door of the cafe, I’m relieved to see only a few people inside. Mollie, Cal and Landy are sitting on the leather sofa and armchairs overlooking the harbour. As I walk in, Mollie jumps to her feet, grinning. “Hey, birthday girl,” she says. She gives me a big hug, and her fluffy black-and-white striped jumper tickles my nose. “You look great as always. Love the jeans! Are they new?”
I look down at my metallic-silver jeans and then up again, to smile at Min.
“Birthday present from
moi
.” Min points at herself. “Don’t I have impeccable taste?”
“Yes, Min.” Mollie grins and rolls her eyes. “Impeccable.”
Everyone laughs. Min’s tiny – she only reaches up to my waist – and I think people forget that she’s actually eight, not five. She’s a bit of a character. People think she’s so clever and funny. She’s always teasing me, but she’s impossible to tease back cos she knows she’s a mini drama queen and laughs at herself all the time.
“She got an iPhone too and loads of art stuff,” Min adds. “And a trip to China. We’re going in a few weeks.”
“Cool!” Mollie says. “You’re so lucky, Sunny. China – how amazing is that? And it’s great about the iPhone. We can text each other now.”
I smile and nod at her. My heart sank this morning, though, when I opened the package from Mum and Dad and found a phone inside. “It’s not for ringing people,” Mum explained quickly. “It’s for all your music and for using the Internet. And texting your friends.”
“Thanks,” I said, relieved. I felt so bad for Mum and Dad. That was the second time my face had dropped while I was opening my presents. The first was when I opened the envelope with the airline tickets for China. My parents try so hard, and I am always disappointing them. They deserve a normal daughter, not one like me – a weirdo who can’t even talk to anyone but them and Min.
“Thought I heard Min’s voice,” Alanna says, interrupting my thoughts. She bustles out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel. Her dark brown hair is in two plaits today, like mine, and she’s wearing yellow dungarees under her pale blue chef’s apron.