Sam Carrington - I Dare You

Chapter Seventy-Four: 2019: Lizzie

Chapter Seventy-Five: 1989: Inside Billy’s truck

Chapter Seventy-Six: 2019: Anna

Chapter Seventy-Seven: 2019: Lizzie

Chapter Seventy-Eight: 1989: Fisher residence

Chapter Seventy-Nine: 2019: Anna

Chapter Eighty: 2019: Lizzie

Chapter Eighty-One: 1989: Fisher residence

Chapter Eighty-Two: 2019: Anna

Chapter Eighty-Three: 2019: Lizzie

Chapter Eighty-Four: 1989: The Mapledon Meeting

Chapter Eighty-Five: 2019: Anna

Chapter Eighty-Six: 2019: Lizzie

Chapter Eighty-Seven: 1989: En route to Bovey Police Station

Chapter Eighty-Eight: 2019: Anna

Chapter Eighty-Nine: 2019: Lizzie

Chapter Ninety: 2019: Eric

Chapter Ninety-One: 2019: Anna

Chapter Ninety-Two: 1989: A roadside in Mapledon

Chapter Ninety-Three: 1989: Fisher residence

Chapter Ninety-Four: 2019: Lizzie

Chapter Ninety-Five: 2019: Anna

Chapter Ninety-Six: 1989: Outskirts of Mapledon

Chapter Ninety-Seven: 2019: Lizzie

Chapter Ninety-Eight: 2019: Eric

Chapter Ninety-Nine: 2019: Anna

Chapter One Hundred: 2019: Lizzie

Chapter One Hundred and One: 2019: Eric

Chapter One Hundred and Two: 2019: Anna

Chapter One Hundred and Three: 2019: Lizzie

Chapter One Hundred and Four: 1989: Bella

Chapter One Hundred and Five: 2019: Anna

Epilogue: 2019: Mapledon Church

Acknowledgements

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‘Go on, Bella – do it now!’ the girl hissed. She slapped both hands over her mouth to prevent her near-hysterical laughter carrying across the man’s garden and alerting him to their presence.

Bella whipped her head around, her golden hair sweeping across her back like a closing curtain, and looked at her friend. ‘I don’t want to.’ Her voice was a broken whisper as tears threatened.

‘Don’t be a baby all your life. It’s just a silly game. He can’t even see you, I promise.’ The girl dared to edge out slightly from her hiding place behind the metal dustbin at the front of the garden, out of direct eye-line of the kitchen window.

The one he was at.

Bella followed her friend’s gaze. The man, his upper body filling the frame, stared out – his eyes like black slits, lost beneath bushy eyebrows.

The girl shrank down lower still. Bella knew her friend didn’t want to be the one caught out. She’d done her dare yesterday and succeeded. It was Bella’s turn now.

‘This is a stupid game,’ Bella said, moving forwards, her shoulders slumped, until she reached the bungalow. She pushed herself flat against the wall; the hard-stippled surface dug into the backs of her bare legs. She stood stock-still – only her eyes moved as she sought out her friend. She glared at her, silently begging to be let off the dare.

‘ Creepy Cawley, Creepy Cawley, ’ the other girl chanted, her tone hushed but loud enough to send chills down Bella’s spine; her legs began to shake, her fear visible. She wished she’d worn her corduroy trousers now, not the stupid cotton shorts again. It’s just a game, no need to be scared. But, despite trying to calm herself, her mum’s words of warning rang in her ears: You must never go near Mr Cawley. Ever. Do you understand? She’d said the police had been called lots of times because of kids trespassing on his property, annoying him. Terrorising him . Those were the words her mum had used. Bella closed her eyes tight, remembering how her mum had put one hand on her hip, holding the finger of her other hand out, wagging it like a metronome as she spoke in a stern voice: ‘It’s important you listen, Bella. To every word I say.’

Her mum said that one day someone would get hurt.

Bella didn’t want that day to be today, or for her to be the someone getting hurt.

‘You’re almost there! Go on!’

‘ But it’s not nice. ’ Bella’s voice susurrated through her gritted teeth.

‘Don’t be a chicken. I won’t play with you anymore if you don’t do it.’

Bella’s eyes, glassy with tears, travelled to the door. It was only a few feet away. But it seemed like the longest journey she would ever make.

Taking a deep breath, she lunged and ran, crashing against the door accidentally as her legs turned to jelly. In her fright, she almost bolted without completing the dare, but with her friend’s high-pitched screech hurtling across the garden, shouting, ‘Knock on the door, idiot!’ Bella did as she was told.

Two hard knocks later, her knuckles stinging, she was done.

The two girls ran – squealing with a mixture of exhilaration and terror – out of Creepy Cawley’s garden, out of the cul-de-sac and into the road leading back to their street.

Billy Cawley smiled as he watched their retreat.

They’d be back.

And next time he’d be ready.

Next time, he’d live up to his nickname and give them a real reason to scream.

Friday 12th July

Anna replaced the receiver, forcibly tucked her hair behind her ears, and walked out of the secretary’s office without conversation. It wasn’t the first time her mother had phoned her at work, but it was one of the more worrying calls. She was determined not to pander to her, though – she’d responded to Muriel’s demands to leave right away by pointing out she had a responsibility for the children and it was only another hour until the bell. Then she would begin the journey down to Mapledon.

To the house where she grew up.

The one she’d longed to leave way before she had the means to do so.

‘Mrs Denver, Charlie is throwing the papier-mâché gloop everywhere!’

The shrill whine of the child brought Anna out of her thoughts.

‘He is going to have to clear up the mess he’s made, then, isn’t he?’ She placed her hand on the seven-year-old’s shoulders and guided her back to the classroom. Leaving her class unattended, even for a matter of minutes, was never a good idea – and especially on the final day of the term when all the children were hyped up ready for the summer break. ‘A spirited bunch’ was how the head teacher described them. Anna, whilst agreeing, also thought a few of them were just plain naughty. She’d never have allowed Carrie to act up like that – she expected more from her daughter – whether as a result of teaching other people’s children and witnessing their sometimes unruly behaviour, or as a result of her own strict upbringing, she couldn’t ascertain. It was a case of the chicken or the egg.

Having finally paired all the children with their respective adults, Anna flitted around the classroom clearing away the activities, tutting at the globs of slushy, sticky newspaper remnants now clinging to the tables like shit to a blanket. As she picked at some of the hardened paper, Muriel’s words played out in her head.

Something’s wrong, Anna. Something is very wrong.

Anna had sighed at her mother’s words, wondering what melodrama was about to unfold. But her gut had twisted as Muriel carried on with her story.

Now, washing and drying her hands with the small, rough towel, Anna decided she’d have to ring James and get him to have Carrie for the night despite it not being his turn. The journey to Mapledon would only take two hours or so from Bristol, but she didn’t want to take Carrie there – didn’t want her dragged into whatever was going on. If anything. Her mother could be over-reacting. When Anna was growing up that’d been her MO – even before Anna’s father had left and then more so when old-age shenanigans took over. But just in case, it would be better to go alone.