Birthday Boy. David Baddiel

Oh. It was his clock. Made to look much bigger and more spaceship-ey because he was seeing it through the telescope. He’d turned the thing all the way round, away from the window, and was looking back towards his bed.

      Feeling a little silly, Sam began to move the telescope back round again. But not before noticing that the time was about to turn – the 59 of 11:59 had been there for a while – to midnight. And then his birthday really would be properly over. He sighed, shook his head and looked through the lenspiece for one last sight of the stars.

      And then he saw it.

       CHAPTER 5

       WHEN YOU WISH UPON A STAR

      A shooting star! A really big one, tearing up the sky! Through the telescope, it looked amazing, like a comet, or a rocket, or a firework. And it didn’t just go in a split second, like shooting stars do: no. It stayed travelling across the night sky for what seemed like ages, in a long arc from one end of the horizon to the other.

      It was astonishing, beautiful. Sam couldn’t believe he was the only person in the world seeing it: surely NASA, or Jodrell Bank, or Brian Cox, or someone from the Star Wars Resistance, was also watching. But he didn’t think about that for too long, because – while the star was still shooting across his vision – he remembered what his mum had said.

      You can wish upon a star. You should wish upon a star.

      Sam wasn’t superstitious. In fact, he had been pretty tongue-in-cheek about it when saying to his mum, just as she was putting him to bed, “Does that actually work?” But this was different. This was a star so bright, and so fast, and so present in the sky that it really did feel to him that it might be magical.

      And so – he wasn’t to know this, because he was looking through the telescope – on the stroke of midnight (it wasn’t actually a stroke: it was a small, almost silent click, as 11:59 became 12:00 on his clock) – he said, out loud, towards the star:

      “I wish it could be my birthday every day!”

      At which point the star seemed to burst into even greater light – it seemed to glow, extra-brightly, for a second – and then it fell from the sky, straight down. Sam tried to follow it with his telescope, and for a moment he could, even though it was travelling really quickly. This star looked as if it was on a mission to come to Earth! Or as if someone had shot it out of the sky! Perhaps, unbeknownst to Sam, his telescope was mounted with a laser beam that had blasted into the heart of it!

      Unfortunately, these thoughts got in the way, and meant that Sam couldn’t track the journey of the star all the way down. It appeared – but this couldn’t be right – to land in the middle of the river, either in the water itself, or maybe on one of the islands. Sam could see one of these through the telescope. But it was dark, and covered in trees, and definitely not lit up by a falling celestial object.

      Sam lifted his eye from the lenspiece. He looked around. Nothing, it had to be said, very magical appeared to have happened. His room, with its posters of the Starship Enterprise and Battlestar Galactica, was the same. On the floor stood his new skateboard, and trainers, and book, and guinea pig. Who was looking at him with quite a strong sense of, “Wishing on a star? Who are you – Jiminy Cricket?”

      Sam felt a tiny bit disappointed. Not being superstitious, there was no real reason for him to think that wishing on a star would have any effect, but he had somehow felt wishing on this star, being so bright, would mean something. Clearly, he thought, I was wrong there.

      Never mind, he thought, and went over, picked Spock up, gave him a quick stroke, opened the cage and put him inside.

      “Happy birthday, Sam,” he said to himself, one last time.

      Then he realised he was, at last, tired, and so went up his little ladder to his top bunk bed, shut his eyes and fell asleep, immediately.

       CHAPTER 6

       BIRTHDAY TWO

       K NOCK-KNOCK!

      It must be Ruby, Sam assumed. She still got up really early, like little kids do. So he just ignored it.

      But then the knock came again. And, to be honest, it sounded a bit too … full, and high on the door, to be Ruby. It sounded like an adult’s knock.

      He stretched his arms, and sat up.

      “Sam! Sam-my …!” came his mum’s voice, from behind the door.

      “Hey, Sam!” came his dad’s voice, as well.

      It was his mum. And his dad. So why were they up, and waking him up, so early on a Sunday morning?

      Well, there was an easy enough way to find out. Sam got out of bed, climbed down the ladder and opened the door … to see his mum, dad and sister standing there with a tray, on which lay a full English breakfast, a glass of lemonade and a doughnut. Around the plate were eleven candles. Sam looked up, frowning. They were all smiling.

      “Happy birthday!” they all said as one.

      “Sorry?” said Sam.

      “Happy birthday! We’ve made you breakfast in bed!” said Vicky.

      “Your favourite! Full English! With lemonade and a doughnut!” said Charlie.

      “Yes!” said Ruby. “Not very healthy! Actually.”

      Sam watched, amazed, as they marched in. His mum reached up to the top bunk and placed the tray on his bed. Then she went over to the window and opened the curtains.

      “Come on, Sam! Back to bed, and tuck in!” she said.

      Sam shook his head, but smiled.

      “Well … OK … thanks. Is this a joke?”

      “What?” said Vicky. “No, I’ve made it exactly as you like it …”

      “No, I can see that,” he said. “It looks lovely … but it’s not my birthday! That was yesterday.”

      “Well,” said Charlie. “That was the anniversary of the day you were actually born, yes.”

      “But we woke up this morning,” said Vicky, “both with exactly the same words in our head. And those words were: ‘Happy birthday, Sam!’ And it made me think: there’s no reason to celebrate your birth just on that date because every day we’re happy that you were born! So we should celebrate it every day!”

      “She’s right,” said Charlie. “I woke up with those exact words going round and round in my head too. ‘Happy birthday, Sam!’ And I figured, why not?”

      “Really?” said Sam.

      Vicky nodded. “I knew you were thinking the same thing, Charlie. In fact, I had a feeling.”

      “Um …” said Charlie. But he was nodding, and looking a little surprised at himself for going along so fully with one of Vicky’s feelings.

      “It happened to me too, actually,” said Ruby. “I woke up, and the first thing I thought was, ‘Happy birthday, Sam!’”

      “So we went straight downstairs and started making you your birthday breakfast in bed!”