Sunny Days and Moon Cakes

by Sarah Webb

And another nod.

  “Had much changed?”

  At this stage, I open my sketchbook to a blank page at the back and write: “There were new murals on the walls.” I draw one quickly.

  Then I write: “And the cherry tree in the garden was bigger.”

  Rosie smiles at me gently. “I’m glad you had a good time and were able to remember some happy things from your life there. Your dad said you tried to talk in public. You were brave to give it a go, even if it didn’t work out. Very brave. Shall we work towards that goal, Sunny? Getting you to say a few words in public? I believe you can do it.”

  I shrug. I don’t see how I will ever get over my fear, but then I remember the promise I made to myself to try my hardest today, and I nod.

  “Good for you,” Rosie says. “Let’s get started with today’s session.”

  At Rosie’s request, Mum sets up a game of Connect 4 on the kitchen table. We decided earlier that we’d play that first, and then Pictionary.

  “I want you to show me where I can stand today, Sunny,” Rosie says when the game is ready. “I’d like to leave the door open a little, if possible. Would that be all right?”

  I feel the familiar tension in my body and I try to breathe through it. After a long while I manage to give a tiny nod.

  “Just give it a go,” Rosie says. “If it’s too much, we can close the door. There’s no pressure.”

  I show her where to stand, halfway down the corridor.

  “I’m going to walk with you to the door,” she says. “Then I’ll leave it open a crack and go back to stand where you asked me to. You go in and play with your mum as if I’m not here. Is that all right, Sunny?”

  Even though my hands are shaking, I nod. I don’t understand why I’m more nervous today than I was the last time we tried this. Maybe it’s because I really, really want it to work now.

  When I sit down with Mum to start playing, I can’t stop staring at the slightly open door and thinking of Rosie standing just outside it.

  “Would you like to be yellow?” Mum asks me. “It’s your favourite colour.”

  I know I’m supposed to say, “Yes,” out loud, but it won’t come out. So I just nod.

  “That’s all right, Sunny,” Mum says. “No need to talk immediately. Just take it slowly. Try some deep breaths.”

  I do my milkshake breathing, but I still feel all prickly and nervy. So I close my eyes and picture myself lying in a boat with Min on Monet’s water-lily pond. That helps a bit. I open my eyes and give Goldie a rub behind his ears and then try to concentrate on the game again.

  Mum slides a red counter into the blue plastic grid. “That’s my first go. A red disk right in the middle. Where are you going to go?”

  I pick up one of the yellow disks. I open my mouth to say, “Right beside your red,” but my throat feels tight and nothing is able to come out.

  Mum looks over at the door. “Rosie, can we close the door for a little while?”

  “Of course you can if you need to,” Rosie says, coming back into the room. “Just take it nice and slowly, Sunny. Baby steps, as they say.”

  Once the door is closed and Rosie is on the other side of it, we try again. But it’s just the same. I try to talk and nothing comes out.

  Mum is attempting to stay all smiley and positive, but I can see that she’s upset. After half an hour of failure after failure, she goes into the corridor to talk to Rosie.

  “I’m sorry,” I hear Mum say. “It’s not working today. I’m doing my best.”

  There’s quiet for a moment and then a sniff and Rosie says, “Oh, Nadia. Don’t upset yourself. This happens sometimes. She’s had a lot to take in over the last week, with the trip and visiting the orphanage and everything. Let’s go back inside and talk to her.”

  Mum’s eyes are glittering with tears when she walks back into the kitchen, but she still manages to smile at me.

  “Sunny, I don’t want you to worry about this,” Rosie says. “I’m sure you’re still tired after China. We’ll meet again when you’re feeling a bit fresher, say in a week’s time. It’s perfectly normal to have off days. Lots of the girls and boys I’ve helped have them. This doesn’t mean it’s not going to work.”

  I nod, but right now I’m not sure I believe her.

  That evening, when we’re curled up in bed, Min asks me about Rosie. “You were very quiet at dinner,” she says. “Mum was too. And you didn’t say much about that Rosie lady coming round today.”

  I tell Min what happened earlier and how disappointed Mum was that I wasn’t able to talk today. “Rosie told me that everyone has off days, though,” I add. “She said not to worry about it.”

  “I don’t mind if you never talk,” Min says, giving me a hug. “You’re still my sister, no matter what.”

  “Thanks, Min.”

  She snuggles up closer to me.

  Chapter 22

  On Saturday morning, Mum walks into the kitchen and says, “Girls, there’s something wrong with Goldie’s eye. He cut it on a bramble the other day and I think it’s infected. I’m going to have to take him to the vet in Redrock. Get your coat, please, Min. Your dad won’t be back from London until this evening, so you’ll have to come with me.”

  “What about Sunny?” Min asks.

  “Sunny’s thirteen now,” Mum says. “She can look after herself for a few hours.”

  Min scowls. “That’s not fair. I hate that stinky old ferry. And Goldie always pukes when he’s on it.”

  “That’s hardly the poor dog’s fault,” Mum says. “Come on, we’ll miss it if you don’t hurry up.”

  “I’ll look after Min if you like,” I say.

  “Really?” Mum asks me. “Are you sure? It’s a big responsibility.”

  “I’ve done it before.”

  “But only when I’ve gone to the shop or the cafe,” Mum says. “This would be all afternoon.”

  “Please can I stay here, Mum?” Min begs. “I’ll be as good as gold. Cross my heart and hope to die.” Min crosses herself, but gets it all wrong and manages to hit herself in the face.

  Mum laughs. “Min, stop! I don’t want to have to deal with two eye injuries. OK, you can stay here if you promise to be good and if you’re positive you can cope, Sunny?”

  “It’ll be fine, Mum,” I say. “Trust me.”

  “I’m bored,” Min says, coming into the living room, where I’m trying to read my manga book. Mum’s only been gone for half an hour and Min’s already moaning.

  “Watch telly then.”

  “Mum says I’m not allowed to when it’s nice out, remember?”

  “She’s not here, is she.”

  “I suppose.” Min picks up the remote control from the coffee table. She channel hops for ages – which is very annoying – before settling on an episode of SpongeBob.

  After only a few seconds, she switches off the telly and sighs deeply. “I’ve seen that one before.”

  “Watch a DVD,” I say.

  “I’ve seen all of them, too.”

  “Do some drawing then.”

  “Boring.”

  “Play with Goldie in the garden,” I suggest.

  “Duh! He’s with Mum.”

  “Jump on the trampoline.”

  “Boring.”

  I slam my book closed. “Min! Stop annoying me. Go and do something, anything.”

  “But there’s nothing to do.” She starts to jump up and down on the armchair beside me, her feet smashing into the cushions.

  I feel like yelling at her, but I know that won’t help, so I force myself to be calm as I tell her to get down. “I’m never, ever looking after you again. You’re driving me crazy.”

  She flops down into the armchair, sending tiny dust motes into the air. “You’re supposed to be playing with me. You’re a rubbish babysitter.”

  I glare at her. “I’m not your babysitter – I’m your sister. I’m not getting paid or anything. Just get lost, OK.”

  “Fine.” She storms off in a huff
.

  Next thing, I hear her climbing up the wooden staircase towards the parapets. She’s not allowed up there on her own, but, to be honest, I’m past worrying. She can fall over the edge for all I care.

  A few seconds later she shouts, “Sunny!”

  My heart almost stops – has she fallen and hurt herself? I’m such a terrible sister. I didn’t mean what I thought before! I drop my book and run up the stairs to the roof. Please let her be all right, I think as I fly through the door and out onto the roof.

  Min is jumping up and down excitedly. “Look!” she cries, pointing out to sea. “Whales!”

  Min’s right – there are three adult whales and a baby whale swimming off Fastnet Point, which is near Cara Woods on the far side of the island. We take turns watching them through the telescope that Dad set up on the roof. One of the adults is spyhopping – sticking its head out of the water – and it has deep grooves on its underside so it must be a humpback. Cal’s mum, Mattie, taught me that when we went out on her sea safari last summer. She’s a whale expert, so she told us all about them – how they live and how to tell the different species apart.

  “Can we go to Fastnet Point to watch them?” Min begs. “Please? The baby one is so cute, and we’ll get a brilliant view from there.”

  “Fine,” I say. At least it will stop her moaning and it would be fun to see a baby whale close up.

  “Quick!” she says, hurtling down the steps and back inside. “The whales will be gone by the time we get there if we don’t hurry.”

  “Min! Hold on!” I cry, dashing after her. I stop in the living room to stuff my red sketchbook and a pencil into my pocket in case I get a chance to draw the whales.

  I run all the way from the house, but it still takes ages for me to reach the far side of the island. Min must have sprinted, because she’s already there, waiting by the tumbling-down deserted farmhouse just in front of Fastnet Point, the fenced-off headland that juts out into the water. Dad says it’s been so eroded by the huge Atlantic rollers that it will fall into the sea one day.

  “There you are, slowcoach,” Min says. “Look, the whales are still there.” As we watch, one of the humpbacks shoots water out of his blowhole, high into the air. “Wow!” she says. “Let’s get closer.” She starts to climb over the wire fence that leads to the Point.

  “Min, be careful,” I tell her. “We’re not supposed to go onto the headland, remember? It’s dangerous. Mum will have a fit.”

  “Careful, schmareful. Don’t tell her then.” Min reaches the other side of the fence, then looks back at me and grins. “Come on, scaredy-cat. Quick, before that hiker catches up with us.” She points up the road. “I don’t want to share our whales with anyone else!”

  I’m not sure going onto the headland is such a good idea, but Min is darting towards the sea so fast that I’ll have to climb over if I’m going to keep up with her. I follow her, picking my way through the wiry marram grass.

  Min reaches the end of the land and says, “Hey! Is that another baby whale?” She moves even closer to the edge of the cliff to take a closer look.

  “Min!” I say. “Come back from the edge!” I should yell it, but I know the hiker is somewhere near by, so my voice only comes out as a whisper.

  Min turns, a grin on her face. “Don’t be silly! I’m—”

  And suddenly the ground falls away under her feet. She shrieks as she starts sliding down the cliff face.

  I dash towards her, my arms outstretched to try to grab her. But I’m too late, and she’s already disappeared. A tiny shriek escapes from me. There are huge jagged boulders at the bottom of the cliff. If Min lands on them, she’ll… I can’t finish that thought.

  Min! Oh, Min.

  I creep right to the edge of the cliff, afraid to go too close in case the earth collapses underneath my weight and the debris lands on top of Min. As I peer down at the swirling water below, I hear a groan right beneath me. At least I know she’s alive – but I can’t see her.

  I lie down on the grass and inch my way forwards on my stomach, so I can get a better view down the cliff face. Min is lying on a ledge. She’s on her side, with her back facing the sea. One of her arms is trapped under her at a funny angle. There are fallen rocks and earth on top of her chest. There’s no way I can reach her. She’s too far down.

  I hear another moan and then she twists her head to look up at me, blinking some fallen earth out of her eyes. “My arm is sore, Sunny. Everything hurts. And I’m getting c-cold.” Her teeth clack together as she speaks.

  “I have to go and get help, Min,” I say frantically.

  She looks panicked. “No! Don’t leave me.”

  Behind me, I hear a voice calling, “Are you all right over there?” There’s a tall woman in a green parka standing by the farmhouse, on the other side of the fence. It’s the hiker. Thank goodness! I ease myself upright and run over to her. I point at the cliff.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t really understand,” she says. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

  I open my mouth to try, but nothing comes out. I shake my head. Then I point at the cliff again and mouth the word “cliff”.

  She reads my lips. “The cliff? What about the cliff?”

  I mouth “Fall” at her. Fall. Fall.

  “Fall?” she says. “Someone’s fallen? Is that it? Down the cliff?”

  I nod furiously. I’m so relieved she understands me.

  “I’m coming to help,” she says.

  I point to the sign on the fence that says DANGER, CLIFF UNSAFE.

  “I’ll be very careful,” she assures me. After climbing over the fence, she walks gingerly towards the cliff edge and I follow her. “Is there anyone down there?” she asks when she’s as near to the edge as she dares.

  “Yes!” Min shouts. “Me! Help!”

  The woman strains her neck to see Min. “You’re going to be all right, pet,” she says. “We’re going to get some help. Just stay very still.”

  “Is Sunny there?” Min says. “I want Sunny.”

  “Is that you?” the woman asks me.

  I nod.

  “She’s here,” the woman tells Min. “Don’t worry. I’m going to ring the emergency services.” She takes out her phone and dials 999. When she’s finished telling them what’s happened and where we are and asked them to hurry, she hangs up, and I point at her mobile.

  “You want to use it?” She looks surprised.

  I pretend to text with my finger on the palm of my hand.

  “Ah, texting, I see.” She hands the phone over and I press in Alanna’s number and send her a message: Min fell down cliff – Fastnet Point. Help on way – a hiker found us. She rang 999. Please come! Sunny

  Alanna texts back immediately: Hang in there. I’m on my way.

  I’m hit by a huge wave of relief. Alanna’s coming and so are the emergency services. I lie down on my belly again and crawl forward so that Min can see me. She is so pale. I may not be able to talk to her, but I’m trying to tell her how much I love her with my eyes. Right this second I have never loved her more. My stubborn and brave little sister. But I feel so guilty. She’s in serious danger and yet again I haven’t been able to call for help.

  Chapter 23

  Alanna is running towards us. I’m so relieved to see her. She must have sprinted all the way from the cafe. Her cheeks are bright red and her chest is heaving up and down.

  I wave at her.

  She waves back.

  “Is that your friend?” Liz asks me. That’s the hiker’s name. She’s a primary school teacher from Cork City, she told me. She gave me some water and a chocolate bar to keep me going. She’s being very kind. “Is she the one you texted?” she adds.

  I nod.

  “Sunny!” Alanna says. She climbs over the wire fence and races towards us, slowing down as she gets closer because we’re standing right on the edge of the cliff.

  “This stupid headland is lethal,” Alanna says. “You OK, Sunny?”

  I
nod again.

  She looks at Liz. “I’m Alanna, a friend of Sunny’s. Thanks for staying with her.”

  “I’m Liz. There’s a helicopter on the way. Sunny’s been watching the little girl on the cliff like a hawk. Is it her sister?”

  “Yes, she’s called Min. Is she all right?”

  “She’s badly hurt,” Liz says. “But she’s conscious, just about. You can see her for yourself if you look over the edge. Careful, though. The ground is really unstable. It’s probably best to lie down.”

  Alanna lies on the marram grass as Liz suggested and peers down the cliff face. “Oh, Min!” she says. “You poor thing. Can you hear me? It’s me, Alanna. The helicopter’s coming. They’ll airlift you to hospital. Did you get that? Help’s on the way. Min!” Alanna tries again, louder. “Stay with us. Don’t fall asleep.”

  Still no reply.

  The silence is broken by an engine noise behind us. A jeep is tearing down the road that leads from the village up to the headland.

  After wriggling back from the edge, Alanna runs towards the jeep. She scrambles over the fence just as the jeep comes to a stop in front of the farmhouse, sending small stones flying. Leaving Liz watching Min, I follow Alanna. Mattie, Cal’s mum, and Shay, one of the local fishermen, climb out of the back of the jeep as I arrive. They’re part of the Coastal Rescue team, along with Landy’s dad, Bat, who is in the driver’s seat. He gives me a little wave.

  “Where’s Min?” Mattie asks Alanna.

  “On a ledge halfway down the cliff. She’s just gone unconscious. Sunny and a hiker called Liz did a brilliant job of keeping her awake until now.”

  Mattie gives me a nod. “Well done, Sunny. Now can I ask you all to stand well back while we set up the ropes?”

  Alanna calls Liz away from the cliff. When she has joined us, Alanna says, “They need to act quickly and we’ll only be in the way here. Let’s sit on the rocks over by the farmhouse. We can see everything from there.”

  It’s a relief to sit down. My legs are wobbly and my heart is racing. I’m so worried about Min that I feel physically sick.

  Alanna takes my hand and holds it tight. “She’ll be fine, Sunny. Mattie and her team know what they’re doing. And the helicopter will be here soon, I promise.”