I had completely forgotten I’m in myactually at the gymoutfit aka some ratty old leggings and an old band t shirt that’s shrunk in the wash a few too many times, rather than the hot red outfit I wore the first night. If I’d been thinking right, I’d never have walked into a cameras-on area wearing this. This is the kind of outfit and body combo that gets posted in theDaily Mailwith my head cut off to shame people for not going on weight loss drugs yet.
‘Yes, thanks,’ I say, forcing my thoughts past how see-through the arse on these leggings probably is. ‘I just wanted to check something about my schedule for the next two days?’
‘Yes, you’ve got dates with Patrick, Warren and Malachi.’She says this without a moment’s hesitation, not even a glance down to her phone. I know it’s her job to know where I am at all times, but this seems… off.
‘The thing is, I didn’t pick Malachi?’ I tilt my head to the side like Carys does, hoping that it looks curious and naive, not aggressive. ‘I mean, it’s lovely to get more time to hang out with him, but I didn’t pick him.’
‘Oh, the show reserves the right to try you on subsequent dates with contestants if we felt that a match was under-explored,’ Louise says flatly. ‘It’s a good thing, darling. And we find that it reduces the possibility of regret once we get to the honeymoon stage.’
NowthatI know is horseshit. Regret means drama. The group honeymoon in one big house is the first time all the engaged couples get to see each other in real life, meaning sometimes they realise that the person they wrote off earlier in the process is their type on paper, so to speak.
What are they up to?
There’s two ways to play this: suspicion or flattery, and I choose the latter.
‘Of course, thank you, Louise. That’s really thoughtful. Malachi is really nice,’ I say, putting on my sunniest voice.
I remain convinced that good edits are a result of good relationships with the production team, and I’m not about to risk getting some kind of bitch edit, even if I can see the love triangle they’re trying to plant up. Nice try, guys. You’ve got a lesbian in the mix here.
She takes my hand and pats it condescendingly. ‘You just have to trust the process.’
I’m struck with the sudden urge to bite her. ‘Of course. I’m just so excited to be here!’
‘Call me if you need me!’ She bounces away back down the corridor, leaving me standing at the open door.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Patrick?’ I call into the nothing.
‘Is that Dolly? Wow, hi, Dolly!’
Bless him, he is nothing but enthusiastic. I can see why Carys likes him.
‘It is. How are you today, Patrick?’
‘I’m so good. What a delight to see you today!’
The tone of his voice tells me two things – that he’s perfected the art of appearing personable at all times and that he absolutely did not check me off on his second date preferences sheet. Love triangle number two, perhaps? I wonder what they’re doing to the other contestants.
‘It’s always nice to be called a delight.’
I decide not to hint to him that I know he didn’t pick me; that sort of thing could be reused badly by cameras, so instead I just lean into a nice chat.
The sexual chemistry between us could be described as ‘dead in the water’, so we talk about the people we’re actually interested in.
‘Warren is the best, genuinely,’ Patrick says after mentioning that they are roommates. ‘And he speaks very highly of you.’
‘As does my own roommate,’ I say. ‘Of you, I mean.’
I imagine him smiling to himself on the other side of the glass.
We talk about family for a little while. I wonder if he and Carys will get married, and fill the world with adorable, very enthusiastic children.
I need to check his closet for skeletons but our chat is all superficial, and I’m conscious of how much longer this date is going to last if production also realise it’s dry as a dead well.
And so, I ask, ‘Tell me, do your dates usually ask you to treat their pets?’
‘They really do. I had one girl bring her cat to the date. It had a big abscess on its head, and she was expecting me to resolve that in the middle of Pizza Express.’
