The Dare Game Read online

  'Nonsense. It seems like it hasn't been brushed for weeks. It's

  like a bird's nest.'

  'O-u-c-h!'

  'Do you make this fuss

  when Cam does your hair?'

  'She doesn't.'

  Mum sighed, shaking her head. 'I don't know, she's being paid a fortune, and yet she lets you wander round like a ragamuffin.'

  'Cam's not really into how you look,' I said, trying really hard to hold my head still though it felt like she was raking grooves in my scalp.

  'Typical,' said Mum. 'Well, I care how you look.'

  'I care too, Mum,' I said. 'Ouch! No, it's OK, don't stop. We women have to suffer for our beauty, eh?'

  Mum creased up laughing though I hadn't meant it as a joke. 'You're a funny little thing,'

  she said. She paused, tapping the back of her hairbrush on her palm. 'You do love me, don't you, darling?'

  'Ever so much,' I shouted.

  It still didn't sound loud enough to Mum.

  'More than anyone else?'

  'Yes!' I insisted, though my throat ached as I 132

  said it. 'Yes. You bet. You're my mum.'

  She reached out and patted my face, cupping my chin. 'And you're my little girl,' she said.

  'Though you're getting to be such a big girl now.' She fingered my lips. 'They're all chapped.

  You need a spot of lip balm. Half a tick.' She rooted in her handbag amongst her make-up.

  'Oh, Mum, make me up properly, eh?'

  Mum put her head on one side, looking amused. 'It might help give you a bit more colour, I suppose.'

  'Yeah, I want to look all colourful like you, Mum.'

  She laughed. 'We've got different skin tones, pet. But I can certainly liven you up a bit.

  You've got quite a nice little face, though you must watch it when you scowl. You don't want to be all wrinkly when you're my age. Smile, Tracy.'

  I smiled until my ears waggled.

  'Maybe you could get away with a pale pink lipstick and a spot of rouge on your cheeks.'

  'I want bright red lipstick like yours!' I had a rootle in her bag myself.

  'Get out of there!' said Mum, trying to snatch it back. 'Tracy! You're mucking up all my things.'

  133

  I'd found a red mock-crocodile wallet.

  'You after my money?' said Mum.

  'Is there a photo of me inside?' I said, opening it.

  I peered. There was a photo but it certainly wasn't me. 'Who's he?' I asked.

  'Give that wallet here,' said Mum, acting like she meant it now.

  'Who's the guy?' I asked, handing it over.

  'He's no-one,' said Mum. She took the photo out of the plastic frame. 'This is what I think of him,' she said, and she tore the photo into tiny little bits.

  'Is it my dad?'

  'No!' said Mum, sounding

  amazed, like she'd forgotten I'd ever had a dad. 'No, it's my boyfriend. My ex.'

  'The one that went off with the young girl?'

  'That's the one,' said Mum. 'The slug. Still, who needs him, that's what I say.'

  I said he'd have to be crazy to go off with anyone else when he had someone as beautiful as Mum. She liked this a lot. We sat down on the sofa together, and I put Curly carefully on my lap and tucked Marshmallow under my arm. Mum fed me another white chocolate. I 134

  didn't really fancy it but I ate it up anyway, licking her long pointy fingers so that she squealed.

  'You and me will be all right, won't we, Tracy?' said Mum. It seemed like she was seriously asking me.

  'We're going to be just great,' I said.

  'We'll stay together, yes?'

  'Yes, yes, yes!'

  'It's what you want?' Mum persisted.

  'More than anything in the world,' I said.

  We had a huge hug, Mum and me (Curly and Marshmallow got a bit squashed but Mum didn't nag), and it was like we were spinning in our own little world, and it was whirling us all the way up into outer space.

  135

  I got a bit miffed when I went back to my home. Football and Alexander were there already, playing football. Well, Football did the kicking. Maybe Alexander was meant to be the goalie. He seemed to be acting as a goalpost too.

  I didn't think they had any right to be there.

  Well, not before me. I flounced back to the kitchen. Alexander had supplied the cardboard refrigerator with a packet of Jaffa Cakes. I felt this was extra mean as I'm not very keen on orange. I ate three even so, just to show him. I wanted a drink but there was just this silly cardboard cut-out kettle. I scrumpled it up. What sort of idiot was he?

  'It took me a long time to get the sides equal and the spout right,' Alexander said reproach-fully, standing in the kitchen doorway.

  'Never mind your silly bits of cardboard!

  137

  Hey, you'll never ever guess what!'

  'What?' said Alexander.

  'I'm going to live with my mum.'

  'Are you?' said Alexander, as if I'd said 'I'm going to help myself to another Jaffa Cake'.

  'What do you mean "are you"? That's a bit of a limpy wimpy response. Why aren't you, like, "Wow, Tracy, you lucky thing, how fantastic, super-duper mega-whizzo brilliant"?'

  Alexander stood to attention. 'Wow, Tracy.

  You lucky thing,' he said obediently. Then he paused. 'What else was it?' He was acting like he didn't think I was the luckiest kid in the whole world.

  'Look, you haven't seen my mum.' I wished I had a photo to show him. 'She looks totally fantastic. She's really really beautiful, and she wears these wonderful clothes, and her hair and her make-up are perfect. She made me up too and styled my hair and I looked incredible.'

  There was a very rude snort from the living room where Football was obviously flapping his ears, listening to every word.

  I marched in to confront him, Alexander shuffling after me. Football dodged back and 138

  shielded his face, pretending

  to be dazzled. 'Here's Tracy

  the Incredible Beauty!' he

  said, fooling about.

  I gave him an extra

  withering look. 'You can scoff

  all you like, but maybe I'll take after my mum and end up looking just like her,'

  I said.

  'And maybe that's a little fat piggy flying through the air,' said Football.

  Alexander's head turned, mouth open, looking for the flying pig.

  'My mum's given me all these presents too,'

  I said. 'Heaps and heaps.'

  'Whoops! There's a whole herd of piggies flying past,' said Football.

  Alexander blinked and then got it at last and chortled loudly.

  'It's true! She's spent a fortune on me. She's given me everything I could ever want.'

  'What, the computer? And the rollerblades and the mountain bike?' said Football, starting to look impressed at long last.

  I hesitated. 'She's giving me all those later, when I'm living with her.'

  'Aha!' said Football.

  139

  'But she's already

  given me this new T-

  shirt. Look, it's designer,

  none of your market copy

  rubbish either, look at the

  label.'

  'Cool,' said Football.

  'And she gave me this enormous box of chocolates, so many I couldn't possibly eat them all.'

  'Well, maybe you could pop them in our fridge,' said Alexander, still giggling weakly.

  'We're a bit short on provisions at the moment.'

  'Yeah, well, they're fresh cream, and when I got them back to Cam's they'd gone a bit funny-tasting so we had to throw them out.

  But I've still got the box. I'll show you it if you don't believe me, Football. And my mum gave me heaps of other stuff too, the most fantastic cuddly toys and a special collector's doll, an actual modern antique that costs hundreds of pounds.'

  'A doll?' said Football.

  'Well, it's more like a g