Sam Carrington - I Dare You

As she slowly lifted the metal latch and stepped through the wooden gate into the church grounds, Lizzie shivered. It’d only been a gentle breeze brushing against her skin – a warm one at that – but it had triggered hundreds of goose bumps to appear on her pale, freckly arms. It was like a ghost had touched her. Walking briskly to the church door, Lizzie put all thoughts of ghosts to the back of her mind. The door creaked loudly as she opened it. Inside was silent. Cool. Empty, as far as she could tell. Flowers adorned the ends of each pew and at the altar stood a huge display of white lilies, daisies and aster – all left over from a wedding, she presumed.

A stray memory came to her. She’d been inside this church before. Sunday school – she remembered being at a small table at the back, sitting with other children. She’d gone a few times, but then something had happened; there’d been a reason she stopped attending. But what was it? She filed the memory away with all the other half-formed, blurry memories of her early childhood.

There was no sign of a vicar. Lizzie ducked outside again and wandered to the far side of the graveyard; she’d work her way backwards to the entrance. It wasn’t a huge area – the village had always been small. Many of the headstones were old and tilting, the writing faded. It shouldn’t take too long to find Rosie’s. She read the names of those she could decipher as she moved around. None of them caused a memory to stir. Until one; the name on it making Lizzie’s blood chill in her veins.

Jonie Hayes.

One of the three names she did remember.

She hurried on past it, not wishing to linger. Not wanting to ‘go there’ yet. It was too early – she wasn’t ready. One step at a time .

The air seemed to still as she approached the grey, granite headstone that bore her mother’s name. Lizzie crouched beside her mum, eyes tightly squeezed, trying desperately to remember something. Anything about her mother. Nothing came to her. It could be because she was trying to force it – if she relaxed, didn’t try so hard, something might come.

For the moment, she could only recall a snippet of one memory.

The day her mum gave her Polly.

Tuesday 18th July – the day before

‘Be back for lunch, Bella. And no going near Blackstone Close, you hear me?’

Her mother’s shrill voice followed Bella out of the house. She called back over her shoulder, ‘No, Mum. I won’t!’ rolling her eyes towards Jonie to prove she thought her mother’s warning was something she found annoying. She didn’t. She really wanted to do as her mum told her – going to Blackstone Close made her skin creep.

Of course, they would end up there, though. They usually did – even during term-time. Now they’d broken up from school, she knew it’d be where Jonie would want to go for the next six weeks. Jonie put up her usual convincing argument so they’d do what she wanted them to do. Said that it was more fun to goad Creepy Cawley than to waste the summer staying in playing stupid Barbie or watching TV. Bella had failed to impress her friend with her entertainment ideas. She’d wanted to make up some dance routines – ones like they’d been doing in PE at school. Miss Hanson had told Bella that she had “flair”, whatever that meant. But she knew it was good. She didn’t receive many compliments, so this was something she’d taken on board and wanted to build on during the holiday. She, Bella, was actually good at something.

‘Come on, then. I’ve found a way through the back of the close, so he won’t see us coming,’ Jonie said, her eyes wide with excitement. Bella forced a smile. She didn’t get why Jonie thought it was so thrilling to knock on someone’s door and run away. It was childish. And pretty stupid. She couldn’t tell Jonie that, though.

A few minutes later, they were squeezing through a small gap at the bottom of some bushes at the back of Blackstone Close. Jonie got through first and helped drag Bella through. The twigs scraped at her bare legs.

‘Ouch! Mind.’

‘Shh, Bella. Someone will hear us.’ Jonie looked down at Bella’s legs and tutted.

Bella rubbed at them. If she ripped her shorts, her mum would be mad. She hoped they wouldn’t go back through the bushes when they were done.

They crouched down, across from the bungalow.

‘What are we waiting for?’ Bella asked, wishing she were anywhere but there.

‘Well, we need to make sure he isn’t watching before we go in, don’t we?’ Jonie shook her head. She had a way of making Bella feel stupid, shutting down anything she said immediately.

‘Yes, course,’ Bella said, as though she knew that.

Bella stared at Creepy Cawley’s bungalow, silently praying he wasn’t in. But his truck was in the driveway, so he probably was. Her stomach churned, a thousand butterflies flitting around inside it. Her legs began to cramp in their crouching position. She was too afraid to tell Jonie; she’d have to put up with the pain.

‘So weird, isn’t it – having all those bits of dolls everywhere?’

It was weird. But then, that was why he’d got the nickname Creepy Cawley. That, and the way he looked: his straggly long hair, dirty clothes, dead-looking black eyes that stared right through you. Bella shuddered.

‘Yeah, why doesn’t he tidy it all up?’

‘Mum says it’s because he’s lost everything. She says he can’t be bothered with himself, or the bungalow, anymore.’

‘My mum said it was because he was a pee-da-something. That he lured kids there and did bad stuff to them.’ Bella swallowed hard. ‘Which is why we shouldn’t be here, Jonie. It’s dangerous.’ She’d said it in no more than a whisper – not wanting to go against what Jonie wanted. But she had to say something. She didn’t want to do this.

‘Nah – your mum doesn’t know what she’s talking about. It’s not dangerous . It’s funny! Everyone does it. I heard Adam telling Nicky at school that him and John had knocked on his door dozens of times, and the worst that happened is Creepy Cawley chased them.’

‘Oh.’ Bella thought that was bad. Adam and John were quick, Bella was not – she always came last in the sprint races at school. What if he chased after them and caught them? What then?

‘Right, I think it’s clear. Let’s go.’ Jonie was up and running across to the bungalow.

Bella watched as Jonie ducked behind the dustbin just inside Creepy Cawley’s driveway. She frantically waved an arm towards Bella.

If she thought this was it – the only time they’d do this – she’d feel a bit better. She’d even be okay about it if they actually knocked on someone else’s door for a change. But Jonie had already told her they’d have to come again tomorrow, so they both had a turn at knocking on his door. It was only fair, Jonie had said.

Being Jonie’s friend was hard work, Bella thought, before taking a deep breath and following – just as she always did.

Saturday 13th July

The two of them fell into an awkward silence, both standing motionless outside Billy Cawley’s run-down bungalow, neither looking the other in the eye. Anna lowered her chin, balling her hands up inside her hoody pockets. They’d all been so close, once. Muriel and Tina were best friends – they’d both been young mothers, as were their mothers before them, so they had a lot in common. That’s why Anna had always called her ‘Auntie’ Tina. It was a thing they did back then – the mothers’ good friends were always known to their kids’ friends as Auntie. It was inevitable Anna and Jonie would also be best friends. Obvious to the mothers, anyway. In reality, they weren’t destined to be close. They’d been too different: the balance was never right. But as their parents spent so much time together, they’d both taken it as something that just had to be.