[Karina winks into the camera. Lucas spins round to face the same camera.]
LUCAS But there’s always a catch. On the first date, there is strictly no touching. We want our couples to get to know their partner through the other senses – sight, smell and… err… speech. I’m not sure that’s a sense.
KARINA But then tomorrow when the barriers come down, they will be able to touch. But, once they’ve seen each other, will any of them come back for more?
LUCAS I hope so! Or this will be a very short show.
[Karina lightly smacks him on the arm while laughing.]
KARINA Now let’s check in with our couples to see who is on the path toWedded Bliss.
Chapter ElevenCarys
Cobey Worthing, 28, Newquay
I guess I’m looking for a woman to ride the waves of life with me. Not literally, like it would be super cool if they could surf but the raw power of the sea isn’t for everyone. That’s why I think Lina and I are a good match – she’s so chill, and I’m so chill, and together we’re just… chill. I hope she likes me. Do you know if she likes me?
I think there might be something seriously wrong with me. It’s reveal day, the day I finally see Patrick’s face, and yet I can’t stop turning last night’s conversation with Dolly over and over in my mind.
‘I know women like that.’
That’s what she said, wasn’t it? But does that mean what I think it means?
And why do I care? I mean… I’m pretty sure I know why I care. I think. Maybe.
Dolly is already gone when I wake up, which either means she’s up abnormally early or I’ve slept in. From the murmur of noise outside the door, I think it might be the latter.
Sleep didn’t refresh me at all. It’s not like I had a meltdown. It wasn’treallya meltdown, though therapists of the past might disagree with that. Not that I’ve listened to them much at all,which is probably at least part of the reason why my nervous system feels mysteriously aflame most of the time.
They couldn’t understand my inability to name a feeling as I experience it. Most of the time it’s three days later that I finally work out what the Good or Bad feeling actually meant. They call it alexithymia, which is a fancy name for ‘I have no idea how I feel about anything right now’.
But I don’t really have days. I need to work out what I’m doing with myself asap.
Someone knocks, and I sit up very straight, pulling the covers practically up to my chin. ‘Hello?’ I squeak.
I cannot tell you how simultaneously relieved and alarmed I feel upon seeing Dolly carrying a mug. ‘Thought I’d bring you a cuppa for strength. I put about twelve sugars in.’ She sets it down on the bedside table next to me.
Dolly wears a white shirt dress, belted at the waist and unbuttoned to show the dip in her throat. The colour reminds me of white calcite crystals, shining in the light. The dress is paired with gold hoop earrings and softened with a pinkish-nude lipstick that matches her heels. She looks incredible. Grown up. Marriage material.
Not the sort of thing I could wear and carry a mug of tea without disaster striking.
I don’t know how I didn’t notice what I’m now unable to ignore.
I whisper what’s supposed to be a thank you but the frog in my throat sends it garbled. I’m not even sure which language I used.
She raises her arched eyebrows. ‘I’ll take that to be a thanks.’
I want her to sit down and stay with me, but she stands, probably to stop her dress wrinkling. Like she’s ready to walk out any moment.
God, I feel so needy.
Dolly continues to be immune to my inner turmoil. ‘Look,production were hassling me about how sick you are. I’m not digging, but what do you want me to tell them for you? If you don’t want to go out, I’ll get Reb to fight that battle for you.’
There’s a hot hollowness in my chest that I can’t name, but I think that it’s more than just being overwhelmingly thankful. I realise what Dolly has proposed is what my sisters meant about reasonable adjustments – more time, more rest, they’d suggested, like it was something I could just ask of a show filmed on crunch time.
Dolly might not know I’m autistic, but she’s still trying to advocate for me.
Would she understand if I told her? So few people know. Again, not because I’m ashamed but there’s only so many times you can hearoh we’re all on the spectrumoryou don’t look autisticwithout wanting to melt down right there and then to prove a point.
