A SMILE IN A WHISTLE

Chapter 1

When Sarah was a little girl, she didn't like parties. For every birthday from her first to her fifteenth, her parents planned big celebrations to make her day special. But they never asked her if she wanted them in the first place. Sarah didn't. She hated the attention, the presents – which were never what she asked for – and the games. Especially the games. They always worked out so that the birthday girl got a flower, a gift or a kiss from a boy at the end. Parents and guests thought the outcomes were cute. All of them took countless photos when Sarah received a kiss on the cheek from a schoolboy when she was five, when she won a Rubik cube when she was eight, a plastic rose when she was eleven, and even when she experienced her first kiss at the age of fifteen during a game of spin the bottle. That day, Sarah finally stood up to her parents and told them never to plan a party ever again. It was too humiliating for her to be kissed on the lips by a boy who she wasn't even attracted to, who was barely a friend, and who was invited because he got on well with her big brother, Mark. Her birthday parties had always been an excuse for her family to invite everybody and anybody. She could only recall having two true good friends throughout the years: Ben and Lydia. Everyone else was Mark's friends, her mum's friends, her dad's friends, and the neighbors. Strangers. Boring strangers.

Overwhelmed by the flock of people in the garden on the sixth of July every year, Sarah would escape to a little wooden bench at the back of the house. There she could sit quietly and rest before heading back to the noisy party. She was pleased to have that moment to herself. She loved feeling the sun on her white, freckled face and on her red curly hair. She would think about her future. There were so many things she was looking forward to doing and seeing when she was older, and most of all, once she could finally get away from her parents! The bench was her own intimate place where she could think for herself, free from the constant parental presence and influence. The entertainment always took place at the front of the house; nobody ever thought of heading to the back. Nobody except one man. It all started on Sarah's seventh birthday...

A young man was sitting on the bench before her that afternoon. He was intruding on her secret hideout; he wasn't welcome. As Sarah tiptoed towards him along the cold stonewall of the house, she suspiciously examined the intruder. He must have been in his twenties, with careless dark hair and an athletic figure. He wore a white shirt, grey tie and black trousers. Yes, he was way too over-dressed for just a little girl's party. When Sarah clumsily stepped on a little branch, making it crack, the man turned his head and smiled at her, making his brown eyes look very small. It was Sam, her father's trainee. Sam was still studying at university at the time, but he had started to teach with her dad at the local high school for work experience. He had plans to become a geography teacher, just like Sarah's father. He had only begun his training a few weeks ago...and yet, he too had received an invitation to Sarah's birthday party!

"Did I pinch your spot?" he wondered.

"Yes," she answered sharply, determined to get rid of this man as quickly as possible.

"Do you want to sit with me?"

"No," she said.

Sarah sat down on the bench anyway. Sam dropped some grass on the ground, granted her wish, and got up straight away. But the little girl's curiosity took over...

"What were you doing with that?" she asked him.

"If you let me sit with you for a few minutes, I'll show you," he suggested.

She nodded attentively. Sam picked a dark green blade of grass from the soil beneath his feet, stretched it between his thumbs, put it to his lips and blew on it. A high-pitched squealing noise came out and made Sarah laugh immediately.

"You just whistled!" she exclaimed, surprised.

She decided to give it a go... She picked a blade of grass and blew on it, just like Sam did. But it didn't make a sound.

"That's okay," he said, "it took me a few goes to succeed."

He searched for a bigger piece of grass to make it easier for Sarah.

"Why aren't you playing with your friends? Are you playing hide and seek?" he asked her.

Sarah simply shook her head. Sam could sense that the day wasn't going the way she wanted.

"Well, whenever you are bored, you can try grass whistling!"

He gave her a few good blades, then walked away.

"You are welcome back!" Sarah told him. "Anytime."

The secret hideout was all hers once again. When Sam was out of sight, Sarah had another go at her new whistling game. She tried over and over again, and got better and better. When she managed to whistle perfectly by the end of the day, she searched for Sam in the crowded party. She was excited to show him her improvements. When she found him, chatting away with her father, Sam showed himself most impressed by her whistling and congratulated her for all her hard work on her birthday.

Every year after that, Sarah grass whistled at the back of the house during her boring, imposed parties. And she was enchanted to have Sam's company during those afternoons – her father always invited him. It soon became a routine for Sarah and Sam: they would have their own side of the bench and they would only pick grass off the ground on their side. They would compete for one hour to see who could make the most amazing sounds with the blades they had chosen. It had become their secret game. They wouldn't talk about much. They would only whistle.

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. Sarah was about to experience it for the first time in her life... On her twelfth birthday, mid-afternoon, she went to her usual hideout, checked out how long the grass was on her side of the bench, and prepared a few good-looking blades. She waited patiently for Sam, swinging her legs while sitting on the creaky wooden bench, and whistling to a tune she had heard on the radio earlier that day. After a little while, Sarah left her pile of grass neatly on the bench and skipped to the front of the house to look for Sam amongst the guests. Surprised that her friend still hadn't showed up, she searched in all the logical places: at the food and drink tables, about her father, in the kitchen, and even in the bathroom, just in case. There was no sign of him anywhere. A sudden feeling of sadness got caught up in her throat. Tears gradually built up and ran down her cheeks. She would have given anything to whistle with Sam. She would have even given away her new birthday bike, if she had to. Adults were drinking and joking; children were laughing and playing. Everyone was having a great time, except for her.

Sam didn't show up at any of her birthday parties from that day on. Sarah never dared to ask her father where he had gone, afraid to find out that she would never see her friend again.