Dare Game Read Online Free PDF Page B

bed, sipping away. I don’t usually like her ropy old herbal tea but she’d bought a special strawberry packet that doesn’t taste too horrible.

    I thought she might want a heart-to-heart (even though I haven’t got one) but thank goodness she just started talking about this story she used to make up when she was a little kid and couldn’t sleep. I said, ‘Yeah, I do that, really scary bloodthirsty ghost stories,’ and she said, ‘No, little ghoul, this was supposed to be a
comfort
story,’ and she started on about pretending her duvet was a big white bird and she’d be flying on its back in the starlight and then it would take her to a lake and they’d float on it in the dark and then they’d go to its great mossy nest . . .
    ‘All slime and bird’s muck, right?’
    ‘Wrong! All soft and fresh and downy, and the big white bird would spread its wings and I’d huddle underneath in the quiet and the warmth, hearing its heart beat under its snowy feathers.’
    ‘Oh, I get it. This is the Get-you-back-to-sleep story,’ I said – but after she’d taken my cup and tucked me up and ruffled my curls (why do they all do that, like I’m some unruly little puppy?) and I was left in the dark I tried out the story myself. Only I was in my black bat cave, and I’m Tracy Beaker, not a silly old softie like Cam, so I made up this big black vampire bat and we swooped through the night together. We’d zap straight through certain windows and nip Mrs V.B. in the neck or nibble Roxanne right on the end of her nose and flap out again the second they started screaming. I think it took me to its real big black bat cave to hang by our toes with all our brother bats only I might have been asleep by then.

    I’m awake now. Early. Waiting.
    I wonder if she’ll turn up?
    She did, she did, she did!!!
    Cam came with me to Elaine’s. But she waited outside and, surprise surprise, Elaine did too. So the mega-meet of the century took place in private. Just me and my mum.
    I was sitting in Elaine’s room, swivelling round and round in her little chair on wheels, when this woman comes straight in and stands there blinking at me. A small woman with very bright blonde hair and a lot of lipstick, wearing a very short skirt and very high heels.

    A beautiful woman with long fair hair and a lovely face in the most stylish sexy clothes.
    My mum.
    I knew her straight away.
    She didn’t know me. She went on blinking, like she’d just poked her mascara wand in her eye. ‘Tracy?’ she said, looking round, as if the room was full of kids.
    ‘Hi,’ I said, in this silly little squeak.
    ‘You’re not my Tracy!’ said mum, shaking her head at me. ‘You’re too big!’
    I’m quite small and skinny for my age so I didn ’t get what she was on about.
    ‘My Tracy’s just a little kid. A funny little kid with weird sticky-out plaits. The tantrums when it was hair-brushing time!’ She peered at me. ‘Was that really you?’
    I held out a strand of hair and mimed plaiting it.
    ‘You had a filthy temper when you were a toddler,’ said Mum. ‘It
is
you, isn’t it? My Tracy!’
    ‘Mum.’
    ‘Well!’
    There was a bit of a pause. Mum half held her arms out but then changed her mind, acting like she was just stretching.
    ‘Well,’ she said again. ‘How have you been then, darling? Did you miss me, eh?’
    I did a rapid rewind through the years, remembering. I wanted to tell her what it was like. But I couldn’t seem to get my act together at all. I’m the lippiest gabbiest kid ever, ask anyone – but now all I could do was nod.
    Mum looked a bit disappointed by my response. ‘
I’ve
been driven crazy thinking about you!’ she said. ‘I kept making all these plans to get you back, but things kept going haywire . I was tied up with this and that . . .’
    ‘Films?’ I whispered.
    ‘Mmm.’
    ‘In Hollywood?’
    ‘Not exactly.’
    ‘But you
are
an actress, aren’t you, Mum?’
    ‘Yes, sweetie. And I do a lot of