‘I’ll do all the cooking. I’ll do vegan meals if I have to. Please, just a few more days.’
I sound desperate.
‘One more day,’ he says firmly. ‘I’ll need to check in with the boss to see where we are at with the other contestants. It’s around about now that we start pulling the cast together, so I guess another day won’t hurt.’
‘Thank you. Thank you so much. You won’t regret it.’ I could give him a massive hug but settle for flashing him the biggest smile my face can make.
Cam wipes his hands dry on a cloth, neatly folding it before placing it on the bench.
‘It’s fascinating to hear behind-the-scenes stuff. I’ve always wanted to know what a TV producer does. How is it different to a director? And why are there so many executive producers and directors? And there’s always thousands of Key Grips, what the heck are they?’
He shakes his head playfully. I am already bothering him, less than a second after saying I wouldn’t.
I follow him back through to the dining table as he talks.
‘I manage both the crew on set and oversee the two-hundred or so crew who live and work in the make-shift production village just outside theLove on the Islandvilla. I’m responsiblefor the music, the daily rushes, the monitoring of the camera hides and microphones, as well as the general welfare of the contestants, those who make it onto the show and those who don’t.’
‘Wow. That’s a lot of stuff to manage.’
Cam nods. ‘Last year one of the Islanders failed to disclose that he’d starred in some pretty graphic adult movies. It threw the opening episode into chaos.’
‘All the more reason to play it safe with me. The most interesting it ever got at my school involved a dead pigeon.’ The words are tumbling from my lips, and I am powerless to stop them. ‘And little Patrick’s stepdad has been having an affair with Geoff next door for over two years. His wife is livid about it.’
For the love of God, please refrain.
After giving me a long look, Cam picks up his phone, and after a series of clicks and pressing numbers on the keypad, he gets through to a person. I listen to him speaking fluent Spanish, an instant aphrodisiac, before he turns to me.
‘If you’re going to stay then you’ll need your things.’ He points to his phone. ‘Lost property. They think they have your luggage.’
I suppress a squeal of excitement while he finishes the call.
‘You can tell me more about this dead pigeon on the way to the airport. Let’s go.’
Chapter 9
Even though I’ve only been without my things for a few days, it seems like forever, and I am desperate for fresh clothes and my familiar toiletries. I am smiling at Cameron as though I have Stockholm Syndrome. He keeps shaking his head at me and grinning to himself as we drive down the secluded road, hemmed in by thick tropical rainforest on either side.
‘It seems magical, doesn’t it? As though an elephant is going to pop its head out any second,’ I gush as we speed along.
Cam slides his eyes to mine. ‘Wrong jungle. Wrong continent. Are you sure you’re an educator?’
‘I was speaking hypothetically.’ The only jungle I’ve ever seen is Jungle Book. ‘I meant tiger.’
‘Try a monkey or a jaguar.’
‘Good job I don’t teach Zoology then,’ I laugh.
‘I think you’ll find the study of animals comes under Science. And I’m pretty certain you teach that in schools.’
He’s right! It does.
I will try to style it out. He couldn’t possibly know the National Curriculum. We can barely keep up with the changes ourselves. ‘Which one of us is the teacher here?’ I ask in a light tone.
‘Judging by this conversation, you could hardly tell,’ he says wryly, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.
He’s cheeky but I will let it go because one, he’s in the right and two, he’s woken up this morning looking perfect. Whereas I am a sweaty, hot mess.
After forty minutes of revealing how little research I have done on this fascinating country, we pull up at the airport and make our way inside the terminal. Stepping into the cool air-conditioned hustle and bustle is bliss. Even the walk from the car park has rivers of sweat pouring down my face.
