It was a lovely, natural moment, but I had to stop it. ‘Cut. Let’s do that again. Dylan G, don’t swear.’
‘Shit. I forgot. Sorry.’
‘I’ve already forgotten about eighty times,’ Romeo-Dylan offered. ‘You’re not alone.’
‘And I’d reconsider talking about Lily,’ I said.
‘How?’ Juliet-Dylan waved her hand in the direction Lily had gone. ‘How are we meantnotto talk about whatever the fuck that was?’
‘If he talks to you about another woman, he’ll look petty,’ I said, gesturing at Romeo-Dylan. ‘And if your entire first conversation with him is about someone else, then—’
‘—then I look like a shit-starter who’s more interested in finding drama than falling in love,’ Juliet-Dylan finished. ‘Yeah. Okay. I get it.’
‘What should we talk about, then?’ Romeo-Dylan asked.
‘How about your tie?’ I said. ‘Dylan G, you can tie a tie, right? How about you put it back on him?’
‘Sure.’
‘Dylan JM, you’ve got an obvious in to talk about your charity,’ I said. ‘Tell her about Ties Out For The Boys. Philanthropy is Prince Charming shit. Milk it.’
‘I didn’t start Ties Out to look good. I started it because—’
‘Don’t tell me. Tell her.’
It was going to be a nice little scene, once we edited it together. We had to stop and start a few times, but the right moments were there. Her scooting towards him on the couch, the green sequins of her dress brushing against the dove grey material of his suit. Her messing up her first attempt at tying his tie, and the two of them laughing about it. Her second successful attempt, which we could make look quite sexy if we slowed the footage down and used the right music cues.
It sparked a memory, Juliet-Dylan’s fingers smoothing over Romeo-Dylan’s waistcoat as she tucked the tie in, but I forced it back in its box.Just do your fucking job,I ordered myself.
Heather came and interrupted the Dylans sooner than was ideal, but it didn’t matter overmuch. I had what I needed.
I ran through my mental to-do list as Romeo-Dylan and Heather chatted on the convo couch. I’d sorted the accommodation problem. I had some key narrative moments in the can. Three of my contestants had had their First Night Party moments with the Romeo, and—
‘How dare you?!’
‘Sorry,’ I said to a startled Romeo-Dylan and Heather, and bolted.
Lily had bailed up three women beside the pool – Juliet-Dylan, Amanda and Cece (shit, Cece, how did I keep forgetting about her?). ‘How dare you?!’ she exclaimed again, jabbing a finger into Juliet-Dylan’s shoulder. ‘That was my time with the Romeo! How dare you interrupt?’
‘We all want time with him,’ Juliet-Dylan said, standing her ground. ‘That’s what we’re all here for. You don’t get to keep him all for yourself, Lily.’
‘It’s LilyFireball!’
It was absurd how slowly it happened. Too fast to stop, but so slowly I wasn’t sure we’d even need to put it in slo-mo for broadcast.
Lily shoved Juliet-Dylan.
Juliet-Dylan lurched back into Amanda.
Amanda knocked into Cece.
And Cece went into the pool.
I immediately looked around for Romeo-Dylan. If I could get a shot of him hero-diving in to save her, that would be perfect nation’s boyfriend material.
But he’d disappeared, so it was Amanda, instead, whohelped Cece out. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she was saying. ‘Your beautiful dress – your hair—’
Cece tried to answer, but her teeth were chattering, wet hair plastered to her face, goosebumps forming on her skin.
