Chapter 8
‘I do not have any photos… of me and my sister together… about my person,’ I say in a flat robotic tone, enunciating each word carefully as though it might be taken down and used as evidence against me in a court of law.
‘Tell me about her. Are you alike?’
Oh, goodness. He is not going to drop it. I can’t read his face either.
‘Well, she’s a little older than me.’ Not technically a lie as she is three and a half minutes older. ‘And she’s a nurse. Which means she’s very outspoken and quite bossy with it.’
Cam is stroking his chin stubble, taking in every word. ‘How much older exactly?’
‘Three, she’s older by three, erm…’ I take a deep breath in.
‘Years?’
I shake my head.
‘Months?’ He is looking confused.
I can’t lie any more. I can’t. I will come clean. ‘Three minutes.’
I’ve cracked under virtually no pressure.
Cam blinks slowly, letting out a calm sigh.
He gets up from his seat and disappears into the villa in one long, fluid movement.
He’s so incredibly easy on the eye, and as attractive from the front as he is from the back.
Almost as though he was dreamt into the world to make it prettier.
I hear the faint bleeps of the safe being opened.
What will I say? What excuse do I have?
Cam returns moments later and plonks my phone down on the table. ‘Show me the photos. Please.’
I pick up the phone and scroll to me and Lois saying the world’s longest goodbye at the airport. Tyrone took lots of pictures and a lovely video of us, so she’ll be able to look at them while I’m in isolation without my phone.
I press play and turn it around for Cam to see.
He watches our teary goodbye. He listens to me telling Lois how much I love her and how much I’m going to miss her.
He listens to Lois mothering me and making sure I have everything.
He listens to her ask once again if I’m positive I’m flying to Mexico for the right reasons.
Cam briefly flicks his eyes to mine and back to the screen.
He listens to Lois tell me how proud of me she is.
How she knows these past few years have been really hard for me.
Losing our mother. Losing my home. Losing my sense of purpose.
Cam pauses the video.
My eyes fill with tears as suppressed memories flood back. ‘I gave up work to care for her while she was sick. There’s only ever been the three of us. It kind of killed my career, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat.’
Cam’s face slackens and we share a real look of understanding. The kind of empathy that comes when you’ve lived through the horror of losing a loved one. He slides the phone back towards me.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘Sounds like you’ve had it tough. She did well raising twins on her own.’
I nod.
‘So, you’re identical, huh?’ he says, trying to lighten the mood.
‘I’m sorry,’ is all I can manage. ‘I should have been honest with you last week on the phone. Lois is engaged to a great guy, Tyrone, so she couldn’t come on the show after all. I’d just got out of that… erm, situationship, and I thought maybe it would be a good idea to come here.’
I wonder if he is going to be angry at the deception, but he surprises me by not seeming that blown away.
‘So now you’ve come clean about your sister, do you want to tell me about this relationship you just got out of?’ Cam asks.
‘Honestly, not much to tell. I thought I was in love with him but really, we never did anything together to create any sparks. I was boring. I worked all the time. I suppose in a way I’m not surprised he dumped me. I’m just upset that he did it by text.’
‘Ouch. That’s harsh. What a dick.’
‘Yeah, right?’ And before I know what I’m saying I admit the truth as to why I’m here. ‘I wanted to take Lois’s place on the show to get back at him. To make him see I’m not just a frumpy old maid. To make him regret dumping me.’
It sounds very childish.
‘That’s a lot of effort and a long way to come just to make him jealous. You must really want him back.’
I shake my head. ‘No. I thought I did, but I guess I just felt rejected and insecure.’ And then I met you. We lock eyes.
‘I get it. But listen, Libby, you’ve put me in an awkward spot here.
I’m going to have to tell the executive director that you’re not the original hire.
You and your sister have two completely different personalities.
She will have passed the psychometric tests and you…
probably wouldn’t have. What if we put you on the show and you crack under the pressure? It wouldn’t be fair to you.’
‘I won’t crack, I promise. I’m sorry to put you in this situation. I was desperate at the time, and then you rang, and we spoke and…’
…and I fancied you from the moment I saw you and decided to throw caution to the wind and kill two birds with one stone.
Cam looks at me thoughtfully. ‘We all do stupid things for love.’
I’m taken by surprise. ‘Now look at who’s rolling out the clichés.’
He smiles and leans back in his chair.
‘Do you want to tell me how your ex ended up with your best friend? I’m quite the expert on trust issues.’
Cam hesitates. ‘You know what? Women never ask me about it. They just want to know if I’m single.’
Who can blame them?
‘Well then, I’d like to apologise for all women. We can be occasionally thoughtless and self-centred and very determined when faced with men as handsome as you.’
Cam grins. ‘Really? So, it’s almost my fault women behave that way around me?’
‘Oh, yes. Definitely. Now, this crazy, cheating ex, tell me what’s wrong with her.’
I almost instantly regret asking when I find out Megan is a former model turned fashion editor and runs her own very successful ethical clothing website and charity for abandoned horses.
A real triple threat: brains, beauty, kind-hearted.
She sounds too good to be true. I listen as he talks very briefly about his past relationship and his regrets at how he handled it.
I get a warm glow of satisfaction over how comfortable we are with each other.
‘God, I must be drunk to be telling you any of this,’ he says, before calling it a night.
‘I’m relieved to hear she has fidelity issues. She sounds too perfect otherwise.’
Cam chuckles. ‘She definitely wasn’t perfect. She couldn’t be spontaneous. She needed at least six hours’ notice to get ready. She’d never be seen without her face on, and hair done. It meant we missed out on things that would have been fun.’
I look down at my raggedy outfit. My hair is in a wild bun, and I have no make-up on. My career is down the toilet and the last time I raised money for charity was nine years ago. I am the exact opposite of his former girlfriend. In other words, the opposite of his type.
‘I’ll clear away,’ I offer, getting unsteadily to my feet after the best part of a bottle of wine.
Cam puts his hand out to steady me, and it feels like a jolt, a spark of electricity. It causes me to look wide-eyed at him.
‘I’ll do it. You head to bed, and in the morning, we can decide whether I’m sending you back home to England’ – he fixes me with a stern look so that I know he hasn’t forgotten that I am here by pretence – ‘or whether you are staying in Mexico for a shot at finding true love.’
‘Yes. True love,’ I repeat, for no reason other than I’m very, very tipsy and I want to keep talking to him for the rest of my life. I carefully enunciate every word to hide this fact. ‘Actual. Heart-stopping. Soul-melting. Sparkles-in-your-eyes. True love. That’s what I want.’
‘That’s a tall order, Mrs Cliché, but I’ll see what I can do,’ he says, giving me a sleepy half-smile. ‘Although you forgot the butterflies in the stomach and the tingles down the spine whenever they walk in the room.’
He gets it. He totally gets it.
‘I’m not a TV producer on the world’s most overrated show for nothing. I have to warn you though, we have a very poor track record. There’s a 0.1 per cent chance of you staying with anyone you meet on the show. They all split up eventually.’
He is horribly drunk. Otherwise, he’d know that I was talking about him.
* * *
The following morning, I awake from a series of torrid dreams in a bit of a sweat.
I tossed and turned. Vivid images of me making out with Cam, his delicious hot mouth on mine, his hands in places they shouldn’t be, had morphed into awful images of me drowning in the pool.
In one of the dreams, I was parading down a catwalk in a crowded city centre.
I was in a skimpy bikini and struggling in skyscraper heels, while everyone else was in boots, coats, hats and gloves because it was snowing and I am ridiculous, and they were laughing at me.
I may as well have been a fish out of water in that dream, the meaning was so obvious.
Maybe it is a good thing that Cameron sends me back home.
He is clearly not ready to move on. And even if he was, it wouldn’t be with someone like me.
And there’s no point in me going on the show because I’ll just get thrown off for being too dull and boring, and Josh probably won’t even know or care that I’ve been on it.
I wander through the villa to find Cam bashing away at his laptop, a slew of papers covering the table and multiple phones on the go all pinging and bleeping at once.
‘Planning a major heist? Shouldn’t we be in an abandoned warehouse?’
Cam looks up, grinning. ‘Good morning. Please don’t peek at these confidential papers. I know that will be very hard for you.’
‘Cheek! I did not peek at them yesterday while you were asleep, so I’m hardly going to bother now, am I?’
He screws his eyes at me in a friendly manner.
‘Honestly, I don’t want to know. I mean, why would a woman, isolated in the middle of the jungle, be curious that the man she is stuck with has over ten burner phones on the go?’
‘They are for the contestants. Each of them will get their own phone, but only to take selfies and to receive instructions to gather round the firepit from Destiny, this year’s host. On that note,’ he says. ‘I’ve reached a decision about you.’
Suddenly, my time here seems too short. It’s such a long way to come to stay stuck in a villa that could be anywhere in the world.
‘Wait. Before you tell me. Can I just say that I’m so sorry I lied to get on the show, and I’m sorry it was for the wrong reasons. I completely understand if you want to send me home.’
Cam looks at me as though weighing up whether I’m worth the hassle.
‘But can you please wait one more day to decide?’ I beg. ‘After last night… you helped me see that getting back at Josh isn’t what will make me happy. It’s petty and desperate. Moving on and never looking back will make me happy. And that’s what I intend to do.’
He raises his eyebrows. He’s curious. He leans back in his chair and folds his arms. ‘You don’t need to go on the show for that.’
‘True, and that’s fine.’ I watch him get up. ‘But my sister and her fiancé won’t have had nearly enough alone time. Please let me stay here for a bit longer.’
‘You want a free holiday basically?’
I feel my cheeks glow. ‘I won’t get in your way. You won’t even notice I’m here. I won’t bother you at all while you are busy checking phones and… writing secret papers,’ I say, following him into the kitchen. I stand next to him as he washes his cup in the sink. ‘I’ll help with the chores.’
He has nice hands and clean, manicured nails but more importantly he is thorough with the rinsing and double-checks the cup, holding it up to make sure it is super clean.
‘Look, we even do the dishes the exact same way.’
‘Fascinating,’ he says, picking up a plate to do the same.
‘I’m a primary school teacher so I’d be good company for you.’
He nods. ‘I do have a lot on. I’m not sure how much company you think I’ll need.’
‘I’ll do all the cooking. I’ll make 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 listed in the credits, 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 makeshift production village just outside the Love on the Island villa. I’m responsible for 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 on to 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 someone. 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.’