‘He said he could take or leave it. He said he wasn’t bothered what we do for a date. I think he has his eye on someone EEH-EEH – EH - EH… else.’
Oh.
‘Who could it be?’ she asks us. ‘Who?’
‘Don’t you like any of the others?’ I say, trying to understand the extreme heartbreak on displayandthe lack of mathematical prowess. There are only four other women in the villa. Two of whom are stood right in front of her. It’s not that hard to work out.
‘I do,’ she says, wiping her eyes dry. ‘Giovanni. It’s always been him.’
Amber gives me a brief guilty look. ‘It’s still early days, Mimi. I mean, it’s totally normal for us all to pass the guys around as we get to know them. I barely know who is with who, we’ve swapped so many times. Who cares who we couple up with at the beginning, right?’
Who is with whom, but I’ll keep quiet.
Mimi sniffs up her tears and digests what Amber is saying. ‘Yeah. Cool. But just promise me that neither of you will go for Giovanni or Carlton.’
She is staring at us with pleading eyes.
PING.
We look at Amber as her phone flashes. ‘Oh, shit.’ She looks at me and opens the message. ‘I GOT A TEXT!’ she bellows. Wefollow her through the villa, out to the garden where everyone has come running to hear what awaits us. ‘Islanders, it is date night in the villa hashtag look your best, hashtag dinner for two, hashtag secret steal.’
My heart sinks as they all jump up and down excitedly trying to work out what is going to happen.
Four hours later, and we are dressed to kill. The girls have gone all out for glamour and spindly heels. Our hair and make-up is perfect. We have all bonded over the secret to effective contouring and making your eyes pop. The atmosphere is electric with excitement. Only, Amber and I have to play it cool, and we are not altogether comfortable with the deception.
We make our way to the outdoor kitchen to meet the boys. We can hear them singing and shouting at each other and when we get there, they unexpectedly serenade us. They shuffle into formation and Henri, who I’ve barely had time to notice before, starts singing. He has a deliciously velvet voice and we are mesmerised. He’s amazing. The other boys join in with a mixed degree of harmonies and they do a simple dance routine for us.
The girls squeal as though the Backstreet Boys have reformed and are thirty years younger. They seem smitten with the boys who, I suspect, have been elevated a notch up the heartthrob scale. When the song comes to an end, Henri’s phone pings.
‘LOV EELANDAIRS. MAKE YOUR VAZE TO ZEE FURPEET. EEZ TIME TO DO ZEE ULTIMOOT STILL.’
‘What’s he saying?’ shouts Mimi. ‘I can’t understand a bloody word.’
Henri looks hurt which gives Kassy the immediate hump. ‘Leave him alone, Mimi. I’d like to see you speaking French. He’s doing his best. Just because we can’t understand him doesn’tmean you have to say it out loud.’ She turns to Henri. ‘DOES IT, ON-REE? YOU SPEAK THE GOOD ENGLISH. YES?’
Well, he certainly speaks better English than you, I think feeling sorry for him. Mimi looks affronted as we follow the boys to the firepit. The girl-power from earlier is evaporating like steam into the warm night breeze. We are surrounded by twinkling lights. The pool area looks amazing, lit from underneath. All of the flowerbeds are ablaze with lights of every colour. It is a brilliant feat of engineering and certainly helps us to feel like we are on another planet. Far, far away from the ordinary world. Where people behave in a rational manner. Where cares and worries are more than just simply about hair and make-up. I also have no idea what time it is or what day it is. I’m starting to forget how long I’ve been in here and where I came from.
Henri is lagging behind on the way to the firepit. ‘Hey,’ I say. ‘You are a brilliant singer. Thank you so much for doing that. Did it take you long to practise?’
Henri breaks into a huge smile. ‘Sank you, Libbee. Yes. Two dayz.’
Because I’m a teacher and therefore it’s in my nature to show off any linguistic skills I may have, no matter how poor, I say, ‘Je vous en prie.’
Henri’s eyes light up. ‘Tu parles francais?’
‘No,’ I say. ‘But I’d love to learn. Life is a learning journey as I always say.’
He gives me an appreciative smile as we take our places. Music is piped through the speakers to announce the arrival of the goddess that is Destiny. We all watch her surreal, slow-motion entrance down the catwalk, through the massive silver heart, hair gleaming, tiny dress swishing around her slight, orange frame, huge unmoving fringe curled under to perfection, until she comes to a stop in front of the roaring firepit.
‘Islanders, tonight we have a special surprise for you. Carlton and Mimi are going on a date!’
This is not news. Mimi has been squawking about it non-stop all day to the point that I’m pretty sure we all just want them to disappear and get on with it.
She repeats herself, ‘Carlton and Mimi are GOING ON A DATE! YAAAAY!!’
We dutifully yay along with her. A movement along the bench where we are sat in a semicircle attracts my attention. It is Carlton. He is looking at me, and at the mention of going on a date, he rolls his eyes. Then, to my horror, Destiny catches him and turns her gaze to me as though I’m somehow complicit.
‘Unless…’ Destiny says. ‘Unless someone secretly steals him away!’
