Dare Game Read Online Free PDF Page A

at all. She just can’t be bothered to get in touch.’
    ‘You don’t know that, Tracy.’ Cam tried to put her arm round me but I jerked free.
    ‘I
do
know. I haven’t seen her for
years
. I used to wait and wait and wait for her in the Children’s Home. I must have been mad. She isn’t ever going to come and get me. If someone said, “Do you remember anyone called Tracy Beaker?” she’d probably look vague and go, “Hang on – Tracy? Sounds familiar. Who
is
she, exactly?” Fat lot she cares. Well, I don’t care either. I don’t
want
her for my mum.’
    I didn’t know I was going to say all that. Cam was staring at me. I stared back at her. My throat felt dry and my eyes prickled. I very nearly started crying, only of course I don’t ever cry.

    Cam was looking at me. My eyes blurred so that she went all fuzzy. I took a step forward, holding out my hands like I was feeling my way through fog.
    Then the phone rang. We both jumped. I blinked. Cam said to leave it. But I can’t stand leaving a phone ringing, so I answered it.
    It was Elaine the Pain. She didn’t want to talk to me. She wanted to speak to Cam. Typical. She’s
my
social worker. And it was about
me
. But she had to tell Cam first. And then she told me.
    You’ll never ever ever guess.
    It’s my mum.
    She’s been in touch.
    She wants to see me!

 
    Elaine’s Home
    I HAVEN’T BEEN to Elaine’s
home
home. Just her office. She’s done her best to turn it
into
a home. She’s got all these photos of kids on the wall. I’m there somewhere. She’s used the photo where I’m crossing my eyes and sticking out my tongue. She’s got a similarly cross-eyed giant bear prowling the top of her filing cabinet, terrorizing a little droopy-eared mauve rabbit. There’s an old Valentine propped on her desk which says inside (I had a quick nose), ‘To my Little Bunny from Big Bear’. Y-U-C-K! She has a framed photo of this ultra-weedy guy with thick glasses who must be Big Bear. There are several framed mottoes too, like: ‘You don’t have to be mad to work here but it helps’ and a poem about an old woman wearing purple and some long drivelly meditation about Listening to Your Inner Child.
    Never mind Elaine’s Inner Child. I am her Outer Child and it’s mega-difficult to make contact with her, even when I bawl my head off.
    ‘Now calm down, Tracy,’ she said.
    ‘I don’t want to calm down!’ I yelled. ‘I want to see my mum. I’ve waited long enough. Like,
years
! So I want to see my mum NOW !’

    ‘You don’t get anywhere by yelling, Tracy,’ said Elaine. ‘You should know how things work by now.’
    ‘I know how they
don’t
work!
Why
can’t I see my mum right this minute?’
    ‘Because we need to prepare for this meeting.’
    ‘Prepare! I’ve been waiting half my life! I couldn’t get more prepared if I tried.’
    ‘That’s just it, Tracy. We don’t want you to get too worked up about things.’
    ‘So you think telling me my mum wants to see me and
then
telling me I can’t see her is going to calm me
down
????’
    ‘I didn’t say you can’t see her. Of course you can see her.’
    ‘When?’
    ‘When we can all arrange an appropriate date.’
    ‘Who’s this “we”?’
    ‘Well. I shall need to be there. And Cam.’
    ‘Why? Why can’t it just be my mum and me?’
    It was just my mum and me once. I can remember it. I
can
. We had a great time, my mum and me. She’s incredibly beautiful, my mum. Lovely long curly fair hair all round her shoulders, dead smart, with high heels. She looks amazing. Well, she did. Last time I saw her. Quite a while ago.
    A long long time ago.
    I
do
remember that last time. I was in the Home then but Mum visited me at first – she even gave me this doll, and she took me to McDonald’s. It was a great day out. And she kissed me goodbye. I remember the way her blonde curls tickled my cheek and the sweet powdery way she smelled. I clung on tight round her neck, so tight that when she