Daring Clare

By Jenny Glazebrook

Mischievous Clare Bateman has accepted one too many of her brother's crazy dares. Now she is being sent away, to the Cairn family farm in the tiny town of Kamira Creek.

Clare vows never to accept a dare again, but discovers there is one dare left... a

• Language: English
• Publisher: Daughters of Love & Light
• Release date: Apr 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9780645095142

Jenny Glazebrook

Jenny Glazebrook writes inspirational fiction for young adults and is now publishing her Aussie Sky Series. This series includes six novels about a lovable ex-circus family and the lives they touch. Each novel focuses on a different member of the unusual, horse-crazy Clements family, their struggle to fit into everyday Aussie life and their relationship with God. Blaze in the Storm was a finalist in the CALEB unpublished manuscript competition for faith inspired writing. It will be closely followed by the release of the next five novels in the series.

Book preview

The Bateman Family Tree

Dedication

To my sister, Kathy Irish

who hugs the Rod Greens of this world.

You’re an inspiration.

Chapter One

I

t began as the brightest birthday Clare had ever had.

Literally.

She blinked sleepy-eyed, as her mind registered the strange flickering of light from her bedside table. And the smell of … smoke?

Flames! She jerked upright, heart pounding.

Oh. Candles. But what were they doing there?

She shoved her bed sheet aside, gaze darting around the room. More candles. They filled every spare surface of her bedroom. From her desk to her bookshelf to her windowsill they flickered, competing with the early morning light filtering through the blinds. She bit back a smile. Definitely overkill. No question who was responsible.

Her brother’s muffled, sing-song voice filtered through the door. ‘Wakey, wakey, happy birthday, Clare’

‘Dan! What are you up to?’

His footsteps quickened down the hall and she held her breath.

The candles made a sizzling sound. Sparks rose up and she shielded her eyes. Then Bang! She squealed, hand flying to her heart as the loud explosion hit her ears. Then another followed by another until every last candle was left with nothing more than a wisp of smoke and the smell of burnt wicks.

Clare jumped out of bed, wide awake, heart still racing. Where had Dan found the exploding candles? She wouldn’t let him get away with this.

‘Right Dan, you’re in for it now!’

Her laugh was cut off by the shrill scream of the smoke alarm. Then her mother’s voice joined in from somewhere downstairs. ‘Who set that off? Dan! Clare! Where are you?’

Clare groaned. Why was Mum home? Mum worked every day. Especially this one. Her very presence shrieked along with the smoke alarm that Clare Bateman was not likely to have a happy birthday. Again.

She sighed and reached up to turn off the alarm in the hall outside her door. Was it really too much to ask that her family make her birthday special? She was tired of the sombre, depressing mood. No party, no cake, no celebration, just a couple of gifts given without ceremony. Only Dan ever made an effort to brighten her day. Her lips twisted in a wry smile. He’d outdone himself with the candles.

And maybe Mum being home was a good thing. It would give her a chance to ask for what she really wanted - her ticket to independence and freedom.

She hurriedly dressed then raced downstairs. Dan sat at the kitchen table looking intently into his cereal bowl as though the answers to life lay in there. His brown hair was tousled and he held a spoon in front of his mouth. Still, his smile peeked out the sides as he studiously avoided her gaze.

Guilty. As if she didn’t know he set up the candles.

She looked to her mother. Mum stood at the kitchen bench pouring milk into her coffee. She appeared almost relaxed now the smoke alarm had been silenced.

‘Happy Birthday Clare,’ she said with stiff formality, glancing Clare’s direction.

‘Thanks.’ Taking a deep breath, Clare approached. Now was as good a time as any. She forced herself to stand tall and not wring her hands.

‘Mum, if you’re not busy, well, what I’d really like today is to go for my driver’s license.’ She held her breath, waiting. Tim had gone for his license two years ago and Mum’s tirade had gone on for half an hour. Clare remembered words like, No need to rush, cars are weapons, remember your father was killed in a car, Grandpa and I can drive you where you need to go, you could catch public transport …

How much more would Mum react today, of all days? The tenth anniversary of Dad’s tragic accident. Mum’s fear was understandable, but Clare was tired of being trapped by it.

Mum said nothing for a moment. When she looked up, there was uncharacteristic softness in her expression. ‘I know. Grandpa told me you’ve been studying for the test. I took the day off work so I can take you.’

Clare gaped, her eyes shooting to Dan. He shrugged and pulled a face.

Well, that was unexpectedly easy. She’d thank Grandpa later. First, she needed to skim over her book of road rules one last time. She should pass first go, but that was only the first hurdle. Getting Mum to take her driving would be a completely different matter. Or would it? So far this day had been nothing like she’d expected.

By afternoon, Clare’s dreams had come true. She ran a hand through her short, dark hair, exulting in the thrill of being in the driver’s seat of her mother’s expensive car. Today was the day the past ceased to control her future. She was no longer trapped in a cage. She was free. Well, almost. She focused on the steering wheel, breathing in the scent of leather mixed with vanilla air freshener. Excitement bubbled. If she could drive, she could fly. She could be anything she wanted to be.

A sliver of guilt pricked her conscience. She shouldn’t have manipulated Mum into the passenger seat. All she’d said was, ‘I wish Dad was still alive so he could teach me to drive,’ but in mentioning him she’d broken the unspoken family rule. No one mentioned Dad. Still, it had worked, because Mum now sat beside her giving terse instructions. True, she had that look on her face like when Dan put soap on her toothbrush, but Clare managed to ignore it.

She forced herself to concentrate as she looked through the spotless windscreen to the street at the end of the driveway. The whole world was waiting for her.

The first movement of the car was delightful. Smooth and easy.

‘Keep the car moving.’ Mum sounded anxious. ‘Push your foot harder on the accelerator to keep it going up the slope.’

‘Relax, Mum. I’ve got this.’

Mum didn’t look convinced. ‘Ease off the accelerator as we reach the road.’

Clare smiled and glanced in the rear vision mirror. Were Dan and Beth watching? Soon she’d be driving her younger siblings around the city.

She was startled by the ring of her mother’s phone. Mum snatched it up from the console. ‘Brake, brake, put your foot on the brake!’

Clare stomped on the pedal, then ground her foot down. Any cockroach lurking under there was officially exterminated.

‘Yes,’ Mum was saying into her phone as she reached over and put the car into park and pulled on the handbrake. ‘He did? Oh, I’ll need to get that sorted right away. Yes, I’ll be there in a few minutes.’

Clare’s heart sank. She knew what was coming.

‘I’m sorry Clare, but I have to go into work. It’s an emergency.’

It always was. Without a word, Clare switched off the ignition and shoved her door open. Did nothing ever change? Tears stung her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She should never have allowed herself to hope. To feel, to care. She was a fool. She’d learned a long time ago to hold herself back from any feeling and today she’d let the walls down and this was the result.

Mum clip-clopped carefully down the driveway in her heels, no doubt to change into her work clothes.

Clare tensed. 

Dan. He stood on the front lawn, arms crossed, smirking. She refused to look at him.

‘Freaked out on you, did she?’

Maybe if she ignored him he would go away.

Not likely. He was coming closer.

She yanked the keys from the ignition and flung them at him. He caught them neatly and laughed. ‘Couldn’t even trust you to get the car safely out of the driveway, could she?’

‘Go away, Dan.’

He poked her. ‘Come on, Clare, what are brothers for?’

‘To prepare me for the worst that life might bring?’

‘You got it.’

She tried to ignore her burning throat. ‘I know I can drive, Dan, but she didn’t even give me a chance. Work called her in.’

Dan’s eyes softened in sympathy before they sparked with a familiar, dangerous glint. He looked from the car, down the curve of the driveway to the still-open garage and back to Clare. Then his gaze locked on the keys in his hands. ‘If you really can drive, you don’t need Mum beside you. Show her what you can do. Back the car back down the driveway for her.’

‘No way. I’m not stupid.’

‘I dare you.’

‘Hah! Remember what happened with your last dare?’

He quirked a brow. ‘What? You look heaps better now.’

She reached a hand to her hair. The stylist did an impressive repair job after Dan cut chunks out. And the look on Mum’s face was priceless when she saw the boy-style he’d created. Strange, how instead of making her look like Dan’s twin it made her look like Dad when he was young. She had that same heart-shaped, animated face with dimples that gave her a mischievous look.

Dan resorted to his puppy dog eyes. ‘Come on Clare, we’ve had some very successful dares. What about the casserole?’

He had a point. Mum still puzzled over the missing beef casserole that lay buried deep in the back yard. But that was harmless. Driving down the driveway on the other hand … anything could happen.

But isn’t that the point of the dare? To go out of my comfort zone and test my courage?

More to the point, did she want to taste that freedom?

She stared at Dan, irritated by the expression on his face. Like an expert fisherman reeling in his catch.

She looked from the car to the garage and back again. The day was ruined. What did she have to lose?

Dan read her every expression and held out the keys. He dropped them into her waiting palm. They felt cold. Weighty. Powerful.

Her heart pounded. This was the point of no return. Her eyes slid shut as she opened the driver’s door and lowered herself into the seat. Sweat beaded her forehead. Backing the car down would be way harder than driving up.

Just breathe. She opened her eyes and glanced in the rear-view mirror. Okay, this was it.

She was sick of her birthday being all about Dad. Sick of the sombre atmosphere that always dampened her spirits. Sick of Mum’s work always coming first.

It’s my birthday and it should be celebrated. I am important, I am capable and I will show Mum. I will show them all.

She turned the key and the engine started with its beautiful, quiet hum. She glanced down at the gear lever and replayed Mum’s brisk instructions in her mind.

Keep your foot on the brake.

Carefully move the car into gear.

Check all your mirrors.

Twisting to look behind, she grimaced as the seat belt cut in. The neatly trimmed hedge along the curved driveway blocked her view of the garage. Even with the mirrors she would be driving blind. Where was Dan?

There on the lawn. He gave a little wave. ‘Hurry up. I’m watching the grass grow here, Clare.’

Sweat dripped down her back.

Mum’s voice continued in her head. Gently, slowly, take your foot off the brake.

The car lurched backward much faster than she expected. She slammed her foot down. With a sudden roar, it hurtled toward the house. She swore. That was the accelerator, not the brake! The world rushed past in a blur and blood pounded in her ears. She was no longer on the driveway and the kitchen window was looming.

And in that moment Clare saw her father’s face. Just a brief flash but clearer than she had seen it for ten years.

‘Dad,’ she whimpered.

She was going to die on the anniversary of his death. Her birthday.

God, help me. What have I done?

Everything went into slow motion.

She despised this helpless feeling, this knowing life was out of control and nothing would be the same again. She’d felt it when Mum told her Dad had been in a terrible accident and couldn’t be home for her birthday party; that he was in heaven and never coming home again. Her little girl heart had broken and given up. And like in that moment when she had let her eyes slide shut and disconnected, she shut her eyes and let fate take over.

What will be will be. Or what was that stupid saying the girls at school were using?

It is what it is.

The bang was so loud it deafened her, shook her insides, and became a silent splintering of molecules. Her head flew back, slamming into the headrest. Glass shattered, bricks crumbled. The air tasted like dust. Her eyes shot open.

Her first coherent thought was that the back of the car was right beside the kitchen sink. Then a high pitched, terrified scream broke through the air.

Beth! Had she hit her little sister? Everything was going fuzzy. She swallowed hard, needing to vomit. Her neck hurt.

Someone scrambled through the rubble and the car door was wrenched open. She forced herself to look up into Dan’s wide eyes.

His voice shook. ‘Well, that’s one way to get the car down the drive.’

She tried to focus on his face but couldn’t quite manage. Shock gave way to anger that built up so fast she was sure she would explode.

She ground her teeth. ‘Don’t you ever, ever dare me to do anything again!’

Dan stepped back, palms up. ‘Don’t blame me. I would’ve got the car in first go. Next year I’ll prove it to you.’

Someone ran from the house. Mum. And Beth. Alive and in one piece. Clare let out a shaky sigh of relief as her vision cleared.

But Mum looked terrible. Her face was blotchy, her feet bare, her hair hanging haphazardly down her shoulders, her shirt all twisted like a cyclone had tried to sweep her up. She must have been in the middle of getting changed.

Mum held out a shaking finger as though she wanted to speak, but nothing came out. Then her shoulders slumped and her eyes filled with tears.

And Clare watched her perfectly controlled mother collapse onto the paved driveway and sob.

What should she do? If only Mum would yell. Or better, use that low, controlled, dangerous voice. Anything but this.

Her eyes darted to Dan. He bit his lip and shrugged. Then Beth’s quiet cries joined Mum’s.

Tim’s car pulled in the driveway and Clare groaned. He jumped out and froze as he took in the scene.

Come on, Tim, now is the time to take on your big-brother role. Come and yell at me. Tell me what an idiot I am.

He blinked a few times before sprinting to her. She flinched, but then recognised the concern on his face. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘Not really.’

‘Are you numb anywhere?’ His hands reached out and felt along her collarbone. What was he doing? She didn’t need him to try his new-found vet knowledge on her. He could save it for the animals when he finished Uni.

She shook his hands off and his eyes widened. ‘You are hurt?’

‘No, I’m fine.’

She closed her eyes, trying to block it all out. She was vaguely aware of Tim now crouched beside her, speaking in a low, calm voice, asking ridiculous questions. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to think. He wanted to know her name, her age, the day, the date.

The one date she would never forget.

He eased her out of the car and for the first time she saw the extent of the damage. The back of the vehicle was a crumpled mess. How had she survived that? The kitchen window no longer existed and the supporting wall was a pile of rubble and crumbled, half broken bricks.

I’m in big trouble.

Tim then reached a hand and helped Mum to her feet. She still looked dazed, but managed to dry her tears and stand tall, looking like the formidable CEO she was. Clare felt an odd sense of pride. Her mother must be the only woman in the world who could make a twisted shirt look magnificent.

‘Should I call the ambulance?’ Beth’s voice quavered, her pale face streaked with tears.

Tim shook his head. ‘No, no need for that. We can go to Grandpa’s for the night and I know what to look out for. At the first sign of any dizziness, vomiting, excess lethargy or neck pain I’ll take Clare to the hospital.’

Clare looked up, expecting to see Dan rolling his eyes at Tim. Instead, he held up his phone, taking pictures of the car.

‘Dan, you’re not putting this on Facebook.’

He lowered his phone and grinned. Obviously he was over his scare.

She groaned. ‘Dan. Don’t.’

‘Come on Clare, I’ve been bored all holidays. Now something exciting has finally happened. Cooper needs to know.’

Cooper did not need to know. No one needed to know. Especially not Dan’s loud-mouthed idiot friend. He would never let her live it down. She’d have to get to Dan’s phone and delete the pictures.

Her phone! She had thrown it in her bag in the back seat of the car. She dove toward the wreckage only to find herself hauled back.

Tim’s voice spat in her ear. ‘What are you doing? Can’t you see it’s not safe?’

She spun to glare at him, fighting the buzzing in her head. ‘My phone’s in there.’

‘Then it will be as trashed as the car. Seriously Clare, did turning sixteen kill all your brain cells?’

He looked so self-assured standing there acting like he was her father, all previous concern and compassion gone. Well, no one could take Dad’s place. Ever. Especially not her bossy big brother.

She snatched her arm from his grasp and turned to see that Mum had pulled herself together. She was speaking on the phone to Grandpa, the only sign of her previous scare being the ever so slight tremour in her voice. Then she snapped her phone cover shut and looked around at them all.

‘You have a few minutes to get some things together. We’re going to Grandpa’s for the night. Beth, you grab some things for Clare. She needs to take it easy. Then Tim, you take Dan and Beth in your car. Grandpa will drive over and collect Clare and I.’

They headed toward the house and Mum called after them. ‘Only grab what you need. And remember the kitchen and dining room are out of bounds.’

Out of bounds? She sounded like a primary school teacher. But Clare had to admit it was comforting to have the professional, all-together Mum back in place.

Mum avoided Clare’s eyes as she stood there in the middle of her beautifully maintained front lawn.

‘Any nausea?’ she asked through pinched lips.

Clare shook her head, not willing to admit she felt sick. Not just nauseated but deeply, painfully heart sick.

Happy sixteenth birthday, Clare.

Chapter Two

‘C

lare, we’ve come to a decision.’

Clare dragged out one of Grandpa’s mismatched breakfast bowls, her heart sinking. Mum meant she had come to a decision. She’d heard the muffled sound of her talking to Grandpa late into the night. She was sure it was about her. Mum let it slip every now and then, when Clare pushed her that one step too far, that she was her difficult child. Maybe she wished Clare had died in the accident instead of Dad. Maybe that would have been better for all of them.

Clare poured cereal into the bowl. Whatever Mum had come up with last night, she knew she wouldn’t like it.

Why wasn’t anyone talking? Oh. Right. Mum wanted her full attention. Everyone’s eyes were on her. Something wasn’t right. She could see it in their faces. 

She insisted to everyone she was fine, despite having to sleep on the lounge in Grandpa’s tiny flat. Fine despite chewing all her nails and struggling to sleep as ‘what if’s’ swirled through her mind, and despite swiping at silent tears she desperately tried to hide.

Mum took a deep breath. ‘We are going to move.’

Clare gave her a cold, hard stare, the one she knew Mum hated, but she couldn’t help it. It was a defence mechanism.

Her mother’s gaze didn’t waver. ‘Work has controlled my life for too long. Your accident was a wake-up call.’

Clare gritted her teeth. Why didn’t anyone call it for what it was? A stupid dare that could have killed everyone. Why did this family skirt around every issue and never deal with reality? Maybe they should all just say it to her face. She was a disappointment; a failure. 

‘Your dad would never have wanted this.’ Mum waved her arm around at the family with her regal air. ‘We’re not a family any more. I spend all day at work and Grandpa has to babysit you. He’s not your father and shouldn’t have to take Dad’s place.’

Grandpa opened his mouth, but Mum cut him off. ‘It’s true, Dad. And I can’t trust Dan and Clare on their own. Especially not after what happened.’

This was new. Mum was talking about Dad. Something big was coming. Tim, Dan and Beth sat up straight. They knew it too.

Mum tapped her nails on the table. ‘So this is the plan. Over the next few months I’m going to ease out of my position here –  I’ll set up the company so it can run without me. Then we’ll move to Kamira Creek.’

‘Where?’ The name sounded familiar but Clare couldn’t place it.

‘Where your father grew up.’

Where Dad was killed.

They hadn’t been to the tiny country town since it happened. Why would they want to live there?

‘But right now we have a problem.’

Mum had that right. Impulse. She was clearly still in shock.

Dan passed Clare the Weet Bix. She screwed up her nose but didn’t comment. Grandpa hadn’t expected them so he didn’t have his usual array of cereals to offer. She absently placed two in her bowl while Mum kept talking.

‘We can’t all live here for the next few months while the house gets repaired and ready for sale. And we can’t have Clare’s last two years of school interrupted.’

Clare felt hope blossom. It made perfect sense to leave her in Sydney with Grandpa to finish school at Kings Private. The freedom she craved was so close she could almost taste it. 

‘So Clare will start school in Kamira Creek next week and board with the Cairn family until I tie up loose ends here.’

Clare caught her breath. Hope disintegrated like a flower struck by lightning. Mum couldn’t be serious! Who were the Cairns?

Fighting to stay calm, she reached to pull her hair back into a pony tail only to find it wasn’t there. Thanks, Dan. ‘But Tim’s starting Uni. What about him?’

‘He can flat with his friends or move in with Grandpa.’

‘But it’s only a few years before we’re all out of school. Why not wait?’

Mum’s eyes steadily held Clare’s. ‘Because I’ve wasted too much time already. For ten years I’ve been letting myself get lost in my work. You are my family. I could have lost you, Clare. You shouldn’t have to go to such drastic measures to get my attention.’

Clare made a choking noise. She didn’t want her mother’s attention! She always felt much more comfortable when Mum wasn’t around, putting her high expectations on her children.

‘Mum, you don’t have to do this. I’ll never take another dare again. I promise.’ She didn’t care that she sounded desperate. She was.

‘Sorry Clare, it’s been decided. The Cairns are happy to have you.’

Clare jumped up from her chair and shoved it behind her. ‘I don’t even know the Cairns!’ She let out a string of swear words, refusing to let go of the threatening tears.

Mum winced but didn’t reprimand her. This was bad. Mum was acting out of character. ‘You should know them. That’s my point exactly. Dale was your father’s best friend. We should have kept in touch.’

Clare’s knuckles whitened as she clenched her fists. She wanted to hit something. Her mother’s voice grated on a nerve that had been hanging by a thread for way too long.

Mum attempted a placating tone.. ‘We visited them when you were about four or five, remember?’

‘No, I don’t remember.’

‘I remember.’ Beth’s quiet voice drew everyone’s attention while Clare glared at her.

‘How could you? You were only two!’ Why did Beth have to be so good all the time and make her own behaviour look unreasonable?

Beth tilted her angelic face to the side, soft brown tendrils of hair resting against her fine-boned cheeks. ‘There was a big white house. And a little cottage. I think we stayed there.’ She smiled, her eyes taking on a wistful look. ‘And they had a cow and some sheep. Mrs Cairn was really nice.’

Mum looked surprised. ‘That’s right.’

Clare slapped her palms on the table. Life was spinning out of control and she couldn’t stop it. ‘You want me to live with a bunch of strangers and farm animals, just because Dad used to know them?’

‘No, I want you to stay with them because we are all going to move to Kamira Creek within the next two years and I don’t want your last two years of school interrupted.’

Her slow, patient tone made Clare want to scream. None of this was making sense. She thought she’d be grounded for the rest of the year or sent to live with Grandpa, not banished to some little country town in the middle of nowhere.

‘Do they even have decent schools there, Mum?’ Her voice was high pitched and pleading. ‘I need the marks to be a physio, remember?’

Like Dad.

Mum nodded. ‘Your father went to Kamira High School and managed to get the marks he needed. I didn’t meet him until he moved here to Sydney for Uni.’

Clare spun to face her grandfather. ‘Grandpa? Maybe Mum should think about this a bit more? I mean, Dad’s anniversary is always a tough time and, well…’ She glanced at Mum, her eyes speaking for her. She’s not thinking straight. She’s finally lost it.

Grandpa’s half smile was understanding as his warm brown eyes rested on her. ‘We’ve been discussing this option for some time, Clare. It’s not an impulse decision.’

‘Sounds like an easy way to get rid of me.’ She bit out the words before shoving her cereal bowl away and storming off to … where was she going? She didn’t even have a bedroom anymore.       Discarded like the nuisance she was, she changed direction and charged out the front door, letting it slam behind her.

It was her own fault. She had no one to blame but herself. And that’s what hurt most of all.

Chapter Three

S

o much for more time as a family. Mum couldn’t drive Clare to her new home in Kamira Creek.

‘Some urgent business has come up at work, and besides, my new car hasn’t arrived yet,’ she said as though Clare needed to be reminded she had written off Mum’s metallic purple pride and joy. It still felt surreal.

She bit her lip. ‘Can Grandpa take me?’

‘Grandpa shouldn’t be driving that far. His heart isn’t as strong as it used to be.’

Her heart sank. ‘He’s not well?’

‘He’s having some tests done.’ Mum’s tone was evasive and Clare knew no amount of pushing for more information would work. More secrets. This family was so good at them. She wanted to beg to stay, to make sure Grandpa was okay, to be close to her family and all that was familiar. To help them and support them. But she never had before. She knew she deserved to be sent away.

And so she was bundled onto a bus and sent off into the middle of nowhere.

Without a phone.

Mum insisted it wasn’t worth buying her a new one. ‘The Cairn’s farm doesn’t always get a signal, anyway. They said you can use their landline any time you need to.’

It was social suicide, but Mum didn’t get it.

As the bus roared down the road, and she left behind all she’d ever known, she struggled to breathe. She had too much time to think. Smashing Mum’s car into the kitchen had affected her