Why does he have to be so incredibly gorgeous?
He blinks a few times before he speaks.
‘Drink up. There’s been an emergency. We have to go.’
10
‘What’s happened? Where are we going?’ I ask as we jump back in the car. Cam seems very stressed even with his adorable and calming Canadian lilt.
‘It’s the head of cabling. He says the team of electricians we contracted have wired the conductors and connectors for the camera hides all wrong. It could set us back days if not weeks. I need to get to the production village to find out what’s going on.’
‘Where’s the production village?’
Cam sighs patiently as though he could really do without me tagging along. ‘About fifteen minutes up the road from theLove on the Islandvilla.’
‘And what happens at the production village?’
Professionally nosy, remember? It’s a condition. I can’t help it.
‘I’m afraid it’s classified.’
OMG, it’s the nuclear codes all over again.
‘I promise you can trust me.’
He looks uncertain, almost as though, thus far, our relationship has been based on a bed of lies.
‘It’s where all the crew stay so that we can make sure all the dailies come in and are monitored correctly twenty-four-seven,’ he says eventually as we hurtle away from the village. ‘The kitchen staff make food for the crew and contestants from trailers, the camera operators work remotely from a makeshift office, we have technicians working on cabling and lighting, we have runners checking on the contestants in over twenty nearby villas.’ He gives me a pleading look. ‘Keep it to yourself. Do you promise?’
I nod. ‘Of course. Not one word.’
‘I’ll need to drop you off at the villa first before I head to the production village,’ he says, pinching the bridge of his nose like I do when figuring things out. ‘Then I’ll need to get to theLove on the Islandvilla before dark otherwise without electrics we can’t see what we’re doing.’ I can see his mind trying to work out how he’ll squash it all in. ‘But it’s about a two-hour round trip. There’s just not enough time to do it all.’
‘You’re forgetting I’m a teacher. Doing a hundred jobs at once is my superpower. There is time.’
Cam takes his eyes off the road to give me a quizzical look.
‘You’ll have time if you take me with you, and I hide in the car.’
His face lights up. ‘Man, that would be so great. Are you sure? Absolutely no one can see you or it’s game over. They’ll send you back home for sure and I’ll get sacked on the spot. It’s like one of those sacred rules.’
‘Roger that,’ I say, giving him a salute. ‘I will stay hidden.’
I think I’m a bit tipsy from the spicy beer, but he is so relieved that I don’t think he’s noticed.
* * *
We arrive twenty minutes later to a park full of trailers, prefabricated square offices, what seems like millions of people scurrying around, cables everywhere, Portakabins and lots of gazebos with tables and chairs dotted about with people sitting staring at laptops. I look at a huge wooden pole acting as an electricity pylon. It has signs nailed on to it for toilets, washrooms, a kitchen area and a medical tent.
‘It’s too crowded,’ Cam says as I slide down the seat, covering my face with my huge floppy hat. ‘I’ll drive to my trailer. You can hide in there until I’m done.’
His trailer! An actual American-style TV trailer. ‘Wow. I can’t wait to see what’s inside your trailer,’ I say without thinking. He frowns at me. ‘I mean, to get out of the heat. It’ll be more comfortable.’
He swings the car round the back of a huge trailer and jumps out. ‘Wait here until I unlock the door.’ He fiddles with some keys, looks quickly to his left then right and beckons me to follow him in. I scurry up the two stairs, and he shuts the door behind us before rolling down the blinds over the windows. Only two narrow window slits along the top allow the light to pour in.
He looks a bit flustered that I’m in his personal space. ‘Make yourself at home. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Help yourself to whatever there is. Try not to read any confidential papers if you can help it. Oh, and, er, don’t open the door to anyone. Gottit?’
He closes the door quietly behind him while I cast my gaze around. I’ve never been inside a television trailer. It’s very nice and compact. There’s a slim desk with a laptop, what look like scripts and charts scattered on top and a huge mirror. Opposite is a tall, thin wardrobe in shiny walnut wood. I pull the long golden handle and it slides easily open. A waft of clean, freshly laundered shirts fills my nostrils. It’s a lavender smell. Cam obviously likes his tops and shorts ironed because everything hanging up looks pristine. I close the wardrobe and notice that next to it there is a door leading to a tiny bathroom with a shower. I breathe in a musky woody scent blooming from the cabinets. He has good taste in toiletries. Next to that a kitchen bench runs the length of the trailer with a microwave fixed to the wall and a built-in fridge stocked with cold drinks and snacks. There’s a sweet little dining area opposite with a table for two. It looks unused. Then the trailer opens out into a spacious living area with an L-shaped sofa and a giant TV on the wall. The last door is obviously the bedroom. It’s closed so I shouldn’t go in.
