I jumped out the car and waved goodbye to them and then I stared at the door and put my finger on the bell like I was actually pressing it. I heard the car drive off behind me. I stayed standing still with my finger hovering above the bell until my entire arm went numb. I rehearsed again and again in my head the things I was going to say. They all sounded stupid. I decided I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t face seeing Cam because I was sure she’d push me away and tell me to clear off. I would if she’d treated me the way I’d treated her.
I couldn’t go back to my own mum. But I didn’t have to wander the streets or crouch on cardboard furniture in our empty house. I knew the social services emergency number. I could summon Elaine within the hour and she’d be able to find me a bed for the night and get cracking on my case in the morning. Social workers don’t ever give up on you. She’d grit her bunny teeth and do her level best to find me a new home.
But I didn’t want a new home. I knew what I wanted even though it was too late. My finger suddenly stabbed all by itself and the bell rang and rang and rang. Then I heard footsteps running and the door flew open and there was Cam, her hair sticking up and her eyes red and her cardie on all the wrong buttons and yet she suddenly looked the most wonderful woman in the whole world.
‘Cam!’
‘Tracy!’
I leapt up at her and threw my arms round her neck and she hugged me tighter than tight and we held each other as if we could never ever bear to let go. I was dimly aware that Jane and Liz came out into the hall and joined in the hug for a moment and then they patted Cam on the back and ruffled my hair and then let themselves out the door, leaving Cam and me on our own. Hugging and sniffing and snuggling. There was a little damp patch seeping through my curls.
‘Your tears are dripping on my head!’ I mumbled.
‘Yours are making my shoulder all soggy,’ Cam sniffed.
‘I’m not crying. It’s hay fever,’ I insisted.
‘Idiot!’ said Cam, hugging me harder.
‘I thought you’d be really really cross with me.’
‘I am really really cross,’ Cam said fondly. ‘Where have you been? Elaine and I have been going frantic ever since your mum rang to say you’d done a bunk. The police are out looking for you, I hope you realize.’
‘Wow! What about telling the telly people? I hope I’m on the news. Can we video it?’
‘I’d better phone everyone in a minute to say you’re safe. So what happened, Tracy? Your mum said she thought everything was fine. She’s very upset.’
‘She couldn’t wait to get shot of me!’
‘That’s not true. She really cares about you. You know she does. Look at all the presents.’
‘Yeah. The presents. The doll and the chocolates and all that other stuff I didn’t want.’
‘It looks like you got some seriously cool combat trousers from her,’ said Cam, holding me at arm’s length and admiring my legs.
‘I know. I like the clothes OK. And she was fun some of the time. She dressed me up in her stuff and it was great. But then she got fed up. She got fed up with me. She left me on my own while she went out drinking.’
‘She shouldn’t have done that,’ said Cam, cuddling me close again. ‘Was that when you ran away?’
‘No, I cleared off this morning. She couldn’t wait to get rid of me, Cam, really. So I thought I’d do her a favour and push off out of it.’
‘And worry us all silly. Where did you go?’
‘I got the train back.’
‘Yes, OK, but where have you been all day? I’ve been round and round the town looking for you in the shops and McDonald’s and everywhere I could think of. I even went to the school.’
‘Are you crazy? As if I’d ever go there!’
‘Well, where did you go then?’ Cam put her hand under my chin so that I had to look up at her. ‘Tell me, Tracy.’
I suddenly wanted to tell her. ‘There’s this house I go to. I’ve been there lots of times. When I should be at school, only don’t get mad at me. I see some people there.’
All sorts of expressions were flickering across Cam’s face as if she was a human kaleidoscope. ‘Which house? Which people?’ she said, struggling to sound casual, though her fingers were digging right into my shoulders.
‘It’s an empty house. No-one lives there. But these boys sometimes go there too. Alexander and Football. They’re OK. They’re my mates. Hey, they both want to be my boyfriend!’
‘You’re a bit young for boyfriends, aren’t you, Tracy?’
‘If you could see Alexander you wouldn’t worry about him! And I can manage Football OK. Easy-peasy.’
‘Do they go to your school?’
‘Nope. Football’s older – and Alexander goes to this posh all-boys place.’
‘But they bunk off too?’
‘Well, Football’s excluded, so he can’t go to school even if he wants. And Alexander’s going to go back to his school now because he’s decided he needs to do well in his exams.’
‘Good for Alexander! So what are you going to do, Tracy? Get yourself excluded from school altogether or go back and try hard?’
‘It’s not like I’ve got a real choice. Alexander’s an old brainy box, top of everything.’
‘You’ve got a brainbox inside here too, you know,’ said Cam, gently tapping me on the top of my head with her fist.
‘Oh sure – and Mrs Vomit Bagley’s going to make me her little teacher’s pet and all the kids will want me to be their best friend?’ I said sarcastically.
‘You won’t be in Mrs Bagley’s class for ever. And it sounds as if you’ve got the knack of making friends now. But if you really hate this school we’ll try again to get you in somewhere else. Liz says she might be able to get you into her school.’
‘I bet she wouldn’t half boss me about if she was my teacher.’
‘You need bossing about. You’re the naughtiest kid I know.’
‘But you still want me back?’
‘You know I do.’
‘Even after all the stuff I said?’
‘I said stuff too. But that’s OK. People who love each other are allowed to have quarrels.’
‘Love?’ I said, my heart going thump thump thump.
‘I love you,’ said Cam.
My heart shone scarlet like a Valentine. ‘No-one’s ever loved me before.’
‘Your mum loves you too,’ said Cam. ‘Maybe she’s changed her mind about having you back on a permanent basis, but I’m sure she’ll want to keep in touch.’
‘Or maybe she’ll wait another five years,’ I said. ‘We’ll see. I don’t care. I’ll be OK with you, Cam. If that’s what you really want.’
‘Is it what you want, Tracy?’
‘You know it is.’
I looked all round me. We were still in the hall. I looked down at the dingy bare floorboards and up at the grubby ceiling and around at the tattered posters on the walls. ‘Though we could get this old dump smartened up a bit,’ I said. ‘Seeing as it’s my home too. We could get a proper carpet for a start.’
‘Maybe a rug,’ said Cam. ‘We could make one together, you and me.’
‘And paint the walls something bright. Red!’
‘Something subtle. Claret? Burgundy? Let’s have a drink to celebrate your homecoming. Red wine for me, Coke for you, right?’ Cam put her arm round my shoulders and we walked towards the kitchen.
‘We could have new posters. You could choose. Bright ones,’ Cam offered, resticking a tattered corner to the wall with a blutack blob.
I concentrated on the picture. There was a great big beach with a piano stuck on the sand with a little girl sitting on top, and a woman in a long dress and bonnet by her side.
‘Why have they got a piano on the sand?’
‘It’s from a film. My favourite. About this mother and daughter. I’ve got it on video. Do you want to watch it?’
So we watch it together.
And the next day we got to watch
my favourite film together.
There’s no place like home. Well, most of the time. Cam and I still have mega-arguments sometimes.
Lots of times.
But then we make up.
We have great times together. Cam cooks me special treats.
Sometimes I cook her special treats too.
We work together and go out together and make things together and make things together and muck about together and chat together.
Of course we can’t do everything together. I have to go to school, worse luck, worse luck, worse luck. I might be able to switch to Liz’s school at the end of this term but till then I’m stuck with Mrs Vomit Bagley and Roxanne and all her putrid pals and even though this is a Happy Ever After ending Mrs V.B. is still the Wicked Witch and Roxanne is that weirdo princess that spews up toads and frogs every time she talks.
Mr Hatherway is all right though.
I’ve made a new friend at school too. He’s called Trevor and he’s the smallest boy in Year Three and everyone picks on him. (He’s the one who had the nosebleed, remember?) Mr Hatherway asked if I’d keep an eye on him in the playground. So I do.
Nobody dares go near little Trev when I’m around.
I think Trevor likes me, though he doesn’t say much.
I know Alexander likes me – and he says lots and lots. I’ve been to his house again. I ate all my tea this time, and had a second and then a third helping of cake. Alexander’s been to my house too. Alexander had a great time. He and Cam had this long long long discussion about books.
Alexander likes Cam a lot. But he likes me more.
I think Football likes me the most though. I don’t go round to his house much but he comes round to my house lots. We play football, surprise surprise. Out in the yard. Sometimes Cam plays too. And Jane and Liz. You’ll never guess what. Jane is brilliant at football, even though she’s so big. She’s better than Alexander’s dad. Even better than Football himself. Though he won’t admit it. He’s working on his game. Alexander’s dad has got him into this club. I’m not sure how long this will last. Football hasn’t got the knack of getting on with people. He’s had a few arguments already. He might find he gets excluded. But I’m never going to exclude him. He can stay my friend no matter what.
I think he still sometimes hangs out at the empty house. Alexander doesn’t go there any more. I don’t either. Though I took Cam there once.
I made out it was my home and I showed her all round. Most of Alexander’s cardboard furniture got broken up and so the house looked a bit sad and empty and dirty.
‘But I could make it look really great,’ I said, taking Cam by the hand and leading her around the living room. ‘Maybe I could live in this house when I’m grown up, right? I’ll have a chandelier and a ruby-red carpet and a big squashy sofa and a telly as big as the wall. I’ll stay up half the night watching telly and then sleep really late and then I’ll do a bit of work. I’ll write these best-selling books, OK? And then I’ll stop writing around five and have tea. I’ll have a big birthday cake every single day.’
‘You’ll get pretty tubby then,’ said Cam, poking me in the tummy.
‘I won’t eat it all by myself. I’ll share it. I’ll invite Alexander round. He can pop in between his brain surgery operations. And I want Football to come too, though he’d better not eat too much birthday cake if he’s in serious training. And guess who else I’ll invite?’ I paused.
‘Mrs Vomit Bagley?’ said Cam.
‘No chance!’
‘Elaine?’
‘Maybe. Once in a while, for old time’s sake. No, someone else. Someone important.’
‘Your mum?’
‘If she’d come. I wouldn’t bank on it though. Come on, Cam, guess!’
‘I haven’t a clue,’ said Cam, but she was looking hopeful.
‘YOU!’ I said, and we had a big hug.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jacqueline Wilson is an extremely well-known and hugely popular author who served as Children’s Laureate from 2005-7. She has been awarded a number of prestigious awards, including the British Children’s Book of the Year and the Guardian Children’s Fiction Award (for The Illustrated Mum), the Smarties Prize and the Children’s Book Award (for Double Act, for which she was also highly commended for the Carnegie Medal). In 2002 Jacqueline was given an OBE for services to literacy in schools and in 2008 she was appointed a Dame. She has sold over thirty-five million books and was the author most borrowed from British libraries in the last decade.
ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR
NICK SHARRATT knew from an early age that he wanted to use his drawing skills as his career, so he went to Manchester Polytechnic to do an Art Foundation course. He followed this up with a BA (Hons) in Graphic Design at St Martin’s School of Art in London from 1981-1984.
Since graduating, Nick has been working full-time as an illustrator for children’s books, publishers and a wide range of magazines. His brilliant illustrations have brought to life many books, most notably the titles by Jacqueline Wilson.
Nick also writes books as well as illustrating them.
Also by Jacqueline Wilson
There are oodles of incredible Jacqueline Wilson books to enjoy!
The Dinosaur’s Packed Lunch
The Monster Story-Teller
The Cat Mummy
Lizzie Zipmouth
Sleepovers
Bad Girls
The Bed and Breakfast Star
Best Friends
Big Day Out
Buried Alive!
Candyfloss
Clean Break
Cliffhanger
Cookie
The Dare Game
The Diamond Girls
Double Act
Emerald Star
Glubbslyme
Hetty Feather
The Illustrated Mum
Jacky Daydream
Lily Alone
Little Darlings
Lola Rose
The Longest Whale Song
The Lottie Project
Midnight
The Mum-Minder
Sapphire Battersea
Secrets
Starring Tracy Beaker
The Story of Tracy Beaker
The Suitcase Kid
Vicky Angel
The Worry Website
The Worst Thing About My Sister
FOR OLDER READERS:
Dustbin Baby
Girls In Love
Girls In Tears
Girls Out Late
Girls Under Pressure
Kiss
Love Lessons
My Secret Diary
My Sister Jodie
THE DARE GAME
AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 407 04528 3
Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,
an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK
A Random House Group Company
This ebook edition published 2012
Copyright © Jacqueline Wilson, 2000
Illustrations copyright © Nick Sharratt, 2000
First Published in Great Britain
Yearling 9780440867586 2006
The right of Jacqueline Wilson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Jacqueline Wilson, Dare Game
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