Читать книгу I Dare You - Sam Carrington - Страница 8

‘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.