Truth Dare Kill Read Online Free PDF

sense of humour.
    I came to Ruskin Park where I used to walk in the summer. It was cold and empty now. On impulse I climbed over the waist-high gate and walked in. I followed the path down to the pond in the middle. I smelt it before I saw it: that ripe stink of decay. It glistened like oil in the dark. Bare trees hung over the water. I didn’t see the girl on the bench till I was nearly on her. It was the white of her hands that caught my eye.
    I coughed to warn her. “Hello. Are we too early for the party?”
    She didn’t jump; must have heard me coming. She lifted her face. It was wet. She sniffed and took a hand to her cheeks. She looked about my age, though it was hard to tell through the long dark hair that hung like pondweed over her face.
    She sniffed again and pushed the hair back to show a trembling lip and stricken eyes. She looked familiar, probably one of the shop girls from down at the Green.
    “I hate crowds,” she said, meaning get lost, mate.
    “Two’s not a crowd, is it?”
    Normally I’m the first to take a hint, but I suddenly wanted company. Still missing Sandra, I suppose. There was room on the bench for me without getting too close. I didn’t want her to run away. We sat gazing at the pond, not looking at each other. There was no moon but enough light to let the shrubs and trees and pathway show up clearly. I could see her legs stretched out in front of her.
    They were slim, with good ankles. She had to be daft, sitting alone in a park at midnight with a madman around.
    “I just wanted some peace, you know?” Her voice had lost its edge. “Stuff to remember.”
    Of course. A city full of tragedies. New Year’s Eve, and all you can think of is the family you lost in the Blitz or the boy who never came back from the front.
    I began to get up. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to
    ”
    She was quick. “It’s all right. Really. Shouldn’t dwell on things. Been here long enough. Go before I catch my death.” Her words were wreathed in vapour.
    “I’m sorry
    ”
    “Not your fault, was it?”
    I turned properly and looked at her. She was crying again, and it grew to a sobbing and she didn’t cover up her face. She let her hands lie by her side and let her chest shudder and fall in helpless anguish. I was scared to touch her but wanted to reach over and squeeze her arm. She turned her head towards me and the sobbing began to slow. The last time I’d seen such hopeless eyes was in the mirror.
    “Come on. You’re frozen. I know a bar. I’ll buy you a whisky. It’s good for cold hands; helps you forget too.” Not that I needed help, I almost added.
    “I’m not a pick-up, you know!”
    “Course not! But there are enough nutters around.”
    Her glistening eyes sized me up. I tried to look like I was wearing a dog-collar. She smiled gamely and nodded.
    “I’m Danny. Danny McRae. What’s yours?”
    “Valerie Brown. Val.”
    We got up and we walked back out of the park and up the hill till we cut over to Grove Lane. She was the right height to fit under my arm if we ever got that far. The George Canning still had its blackout curtains up; handy if you wanted to let your best customers go on drinking after hours. We had about ten minutes to go before midnight. Just before we went in and the lights hit us, I stopped and turned to face her.
    “Val, I need to say something. I’m a wee bit war damaged too.” I took off my hat and made her see the white lines that I knew would be gleaming silver in the moonlight like a snail trail.
    “You trying to impress me?”
    “I didn’t want you to faint. Or drop your whisky.”
    “You haven’t bought me one yet, have you?” She gazed with interest at the scars, then lifted her finger and stroked each one, so lightly all I could feel was a line of chill. She smiled and we went in.
    We were clouted by light and noise and the smell of folk who’ve been wearing the same clothes for too long through too much. A few turned their heads to see who it was then went back to shouting at each other. Their faces were