Sophie McKenzie - Truth or Dare: From the World Book Day 2022 author Sophie McKenzie

Sophie McKenzie

Truth or Dare

When Lies are Everywhere, How Far Will You Go for the Truth?

Million copy selling author of Girl, Missing

The train slows to a stop somewhere between stations. On one side of the track, trees sway gently in the breeze, sunlight dancing through their bright green branches. On the other, an expanse of fields, bounded by hedges, is spread out as far as the eye can see. Each field is utterly empty: no people, no houses. Not even a cow.

This is the countryside. Where literally nothing is happening. And Im going to be stuck here for the next six weeks.

Its my worst nightmare.

My brother Leo is sitting in the seat opposite mine. His pale, earnest face is turned, as usual, towards his phone. Leo is nine, five years younger than me, but hes not like most kids his age. He knows some things in depth, like stuff about engines and volcanoes and electricity, that your average uni professor wouldnt have a clue about. Then theres other things, like talking to people in real life, where he often acts like a tiny kid.

Mum ruffles his hair, then tucks her own behind her ears. She hasnt taken her eyes off her laptop this whole journey except to dole out sandwiches for lunch an hour or so ago.

How many more stops? I ask, as the train starts moving again.

Mum looks up, frowning. Shes always frowning these days. Mainly because shes always working. Im not sure, she says.

I thought you grew up round here, I persist.

The crease between her eyes deepens. What was the last station? she asks.

I shrug.

Polborne, says Leo. I have no idea how he knows. I swear he didnt even look up when we were in the station.

Mums eyes spark with alarm. Next stop then, she says, grabbing the papers which litter our table and shoving them in her tote. Maya, fetch our bags, please.

I heave a sigh and get up.

Is that when youre leaving us, Mum? Leo asks, a note of anxiety creeping into his voice.

Thats where Gran is picking you up, Mum counters brightly.

I glance at Leo. His solemn eyes meet mine and I force a smile. I want to reassure him, but Im as miserable as he is at the prospect of spending the entire summer in Cornwall with our grandparents. Right now, back in London, my friends will be in the park chatting and playing music and talking about the parties planned for this weekend.

And Im missing all of it.

Leos lower lip wobbles. I wrack my brains for something I can say to cheer him up. Its not like either of us know our grandparents that well. Its been years since we were here and we only do video calls every now and then. I fall back on something Mum mentioned last week.

Gran and Grandads place is near the sea, I say. Youll be able to do science experiments in the rock pools or whatever.

Leo raises his eyebrows. But I didnt bring my microscope, he points out.

Im sure therell be an app for that, Mum says vaguely, now trying to ram her laptop on top of the papers in her tote. Maya, please. The bags.

Im doing it.

I haul Leos bag and my suitcase down from the overhead rack. The train slows, the brakes screeching loudly as it pulls into a tiny station. Leo puts his hands over his ears; he hates loud noises.

I look out of the window. Could it be more deserted? There are weeds growing through half the cracks in the platform. I lug Leos bag and my suitcase along the aisle. Nobody else is getting off.

Come on, Leo, Mum urges, her voice rising behind me. The noise has stopped now. Make sure youve got your phone with you, and dont forget your rucksack.

I press the door release button and step onto the platform. After the chill of the air-conditioned carriage, the sun is fierce on my face. My suitcase is heavy, the handle digging into my palm. I set it down on the platform as Mum and Leo emerge from the train.

Leo squints up and down. I dont see Gran, he says.

Shell be out in the car park. Mum dives into her cluttered shoulder bag and pulls out her phone. She checks the screen, an anxious expression on her face. Right, Ive got ten minutes before my train. Mustnt miss my connection to Plymouth.

Feeling sullen, I follow the two of them along the platform, dragging my suitcase and Leos holdall behind me. The sun beats down on my face and back. Im too hot in my long-sleeved crop top. Its burnt orange with a scoop neck and black detail along the hem, and it goes perfectly with my black joggers with the orange stripe. A stray thread has frayed and dangles off the sleeve. I tug it off. I get an allowance from Mum, which I spend mostly online at Bonropa. The clothes there are cheap and tend to fade or twist out of shape very quickly, but they look great for the first few wears. Just because Im going to be away from civilization for six weeks, it doesnt mean I have to let standards slip.

Mum leads us through a gate to the car park. A woman with a silvery bob steps out from behind the shiniest, sleekest car.

There she is, Mum says, sounding relieved.

Gran strides towards us. Shes dressed in crisp navy trousers, kitten heels and a silk blouse. She might be old but she knows how to style herself. Unlike Mum, in her shapeless dress and with damp strands of hair plastered over her forehead, Gran looks smart and elegant. Even her nails are perfect: painted a pearly pink that picks out the exact shade of her lipstick.

Hi. Mum sounds wary as Gran approaches.

Hello, love. Gran leans in to peck Mum on the cheek, then pats Leo on the shoulder and nods at me. The sun glints off the delicate gold chain around her neck. Its wonderful to see you all. Id forgotten how brisk she is, every movement precise. Good journey?

Fine, Mum says, shifting her bulging bag higher up her shoulder. Thanks so much for this. Ive been so worried about leaving them. Her gaze drifts to Leo.

No need for thanks, says Gran, bristling. Were family.

Of course. Er, I have to go, Im afraid, Mum says. Make my connection. Evening drinks on the first night of a conference the biggest networking opportunity of the weekend.

A disapproving gleam creeps into Grans eyes. Well, I hope youre going to put on something a little more formal before you start mingling, she says, sharply. And, darling, Im only saying this because I love you, but you really need to do something about that hair.

My jaw drops. Way to go with the direct approach, Gran.

Theres an awkward silence.

Right, mutters Mum. She looks like she wants to say more, but stops herself. Instead, she turns to Leo and pulls him into her arms. Leo submits, even though hes never been a big fan of hugging. Be good for Gran and Grandad. Mum turns to me. Dont spend all your time on your phone, Maya. Get outside where its safe, obviously.

Bye, Mum, I say, though what Im thinking is that Leo spends way more time on his phone than I do.

Leos bottom lip trembles again.

Well, no point in long, drawn-out goodbyes, Gran says.

Mum gives Leo a final kiss, wraps her arms around me for a short, fierce hug, then turns quickly away. One of the laces on her trainers trails in the dust as she disappears back onto the platform. Leo stares after her, clearly trying hard not to cry.