Dora had it in her mind that to drink a tequila slammer, you had to slam the glass down on the table and catch the tequila in your mouth as it flew upwards, but she didn't think she wanted to share this with Tom just now. She'd revealed quite enough naivety already. 'Fine, what are you having?'

‘A pint. The Tangleberry – it's the one at the end. Here, take some money.'

‘It's my round,' said Dora and got up before she could think better of it.

She'd told Tom that she'd bought drinks before, but actually she hadn't very often, and when she had, it had been in the local she'd been going to since she first pretended to be of drinking age. She wasn't that innocent, she argued as she edged her way through the crowd to the bar, but there were many more things she hadn't done than rowed a boat and bought a drink.

It was a lot easier than she'd feared. The barmaid spotted her straightaway, she didn't have fifteen men pushing in when it was her turn, and no one looked remotely surprised to see her. It was a bit of an anticlimax, really.

She came back, carrying his pint and her own half of lager carefully through the crowd. As a stroke of inde pendence, she'd bought a couple of packets of crisps too.

‘Really, Dora,' said Tom, 'is that all you can think of to have? How am I going to get you pissed if you only drink lager?'

‘I should tell you, Tom, there's no point in you getting me pissed. I'm really not up for anything apart from a jolly night out. As friends.’

Tom grinned. 'Fair enough. If we're friends, we should play a game. What about Truth or Dare?’

Dora nearly spluttered into her drink, something she seemed to have done a lot of that evening. 'No!'

‘Oh, go on. I've been thinking and I just reckon you should do a few dares.'

‘What sort of dares?' Dora had always faintly despised herself for being so law-abiding, and wondered if it was too late to change.

‘I don't know – dares that would make you braver and feel better about yourself.'

‘What, now?’

Tom became thoughtful. 'Actually, I was thinking we should do it over the next few months, before I go travelling.'

‘Do what? Your dares?’

He nodded. 'I wouldn't ask you to do anything I wouldn't do myself – or hadn't done – but for instance, I could dare you to go and camp at a festival.'

‘Well, of course I'd do that. I'd probably take something to make sure I didn't have to go to the loo for the entire time, but I'd certainly dare.' She laughed merrily, hoping to give the impression that she'd find this so unchallenging it was hardly worth asking her to do it. She pictured herself wallowing around in mud up to her armpits wearing bin liners and getting trench foot.

Tom regarded her speculatively, and it made Dora feel uneasy. Possibly he'd read her thoughts. 'Tell you what,' he said, 'I bet you wouldn't do five things that I dare you to do.'

‘I said I'd go to a festival!'

‘OK, that would be one thing, but there'd be four others. Bet you won't agree.'

‘Well, what are the four things?'

‘I'm not going to tell you. I haven't thought them all up yet.'

‘But you can't expect me to agree to things when I don't know what they are!'

‘That's where you have to be brave and trust me. You have to undertake the five tasks.’

In spite of her common sense and her conditioning, Dora felt intrigued. 'But why should I?'

‘For the reward.'

‘What's the reward?’

Tom threw up his hands, laughing. 'Questions, questions – I don't know yet! I'll have to think of something.'

‘Well, I'm not doing anything if I don't know what the prize is.'

‘You're just a scaredy-cat. Miss Half-a-Lager-and-a Packet-of-Crisps.'

‘No I'm not!'

‘You are!'

‘Oh, go and buy me a shooter, then. I'll prove to you I'm not a scaredy-cat.' Miss Tequila-Slammer did sound a lot better than what he'd just called her.

‘You can have the most expensive drink on the menu, and bearing in mind I'm a poor working boy that's quite an offer. But you have to agree to my challenge.'

‘OK, Poor Working Tom, I'll take you up on that. But the prize had better be worth it!' She started to giggle, partly from nerves.

Tom picked up her mood and laughed too. 'Oh, it definitely will be. Now you've got to drink a margarita.’

‘Is that one of the dares?'

‘No! Way too easy, but it's nice. More crisps?'

‘No thank you. I'm trying to give them up.’

'Tell me something you've never done that you think you ought to do,' Tom said as he came back with two margaritas, a lager and another pint of beer – to keep them going.

‘I don't see why I should help you,' she grumbled. The margarita was a definite improvement on the scrumpy. 'You're helping yourself, really. Well?’

Dora thought and realised there were so many things. 'I've never flown on my own. I've never eaten in a restaurant on my own. I have been to the library on my own, but not the movies. You've got loads to choose from. This is way too easy for you.’

They went on teasing each other until the time came for another drink. Tom turned out his pockets and his wallet and came up with a voucher for a Happy Meal and fifty-seven pence.

‘I'll have a look at what I've got,' said Dora. She delved into her bag and came across the letter from her father. She still hadn't opened it.

‘What's that?' asked Tom while she looked at it as if it might bite.

‘A letter from my dad. I haven't had the courage to open it yet.'

‘Why on earth not?'

‘It'll be full of reproaches. I know it.'

‘Come on, open it. You're pissed, you can roll with the punches.'

‘OK. Oh,' she said as she drew two slips of shiny cardboard and a letter out of the envelope. She peered at them. 'It's two invitations to a race meeting at Cheltenham.'

‘What's the letter say?'

‘Darling, thought you might find a use for these. Mummy and I can't go. Enjoy! Love, Dad.'

‘Ah,' said Tom, and Dora couldn't tell if he genuinely thought it was sweet, or was mocking her for calling her mother Mummy.

‘We could go! Could you get time off work?’

‘Should think so. I hardly ever take time off.'

‘Or should I ask Jo? She might have a friend she'd like to take.'

‘No. Your dad wants you to go. And me, obviously,' he added, mischievously.

Dora giggled. 'Of course. When is it? Yikes! It's the day after tomorrow.'

‘I don't think I know anyone else who'd say "yikes",' said Tom.

‘You see, I'm broadening your horizons.'

‘And I'm going to broaden yours. You'll have to place all the bets for us.

Dora pretended to prevaricate. 'I'm not sure I should go. It's such short notice.'

‘Dora! We're going. And you're taking my bet and placing the bets.'

‘Is that one of my tasks?' She drained her lager, feeling that Tom's tasks were going to be easier than she thought. 'Not sure. It's no good if you're not really challenged.’

‘And you expect me to do all this without knowing what my reward is?’

He nodded. 'It'll be worth it. Trust me.'

‘That's such a gamble and I'm not sure I approve of gambling. I don't really know you.'

‘Life's all about gambling, Dora, and if you don't do it, it'll pass you by.’

Dora was silent for a moment and then said, 'You're quite the philosopher, aren't you?'

‘Not really, but I can come out with the pop psychology when I have to.'

‘And the pop festival, presumably.'

‘There are loads on during the summer, but there's one I really want to go to. I'll see if I can get tickets.'

‘Triffic.' She hoped her smile didn't look too false. She shivered, it was getting cooler. 'Shall we go home now?’

‘If you've promised you'll do my dares. Five Dares for Dora. It sounds like the title of a school story.'