Game Over

unexpected is all that seems available. I do as she says.

I hear a familiar theme tune.

‘Sex with an Ex? But the series is over.’

Issie shushes me.

‘Hello. Thank you very much and welcome,’ says Katie Hunt as she bounds on to the stage. Her tits are trembling and, to make the job of the close-up camera easier, her shirt is unbuttoned one more button than necessary. ‘Well, ladies and gentlemen, have I got a treat for you!’ She winks cheekily, the way I taught her to.

Issie hands me a gin and tonic, which I take unquestioningly. I see that she’s poured Mum a sherry.

‘Tonight we are featuring our very own “voice of our generation”, only days before her wedding. We are going to see if she’s ready to say “from this day forward”, or is it a case of “from this lay forward”. The audience erupts into loud oohs and phwas. ‘Our celeb was given the opportunity to appear on the show but has declined, so instead we’ll meet her fiance, Joshua Dixon. A big hand, ladies and gentlemen.’

‘Josh!’

The gin and tonic slips out of my hand on to the floor. The glass smashes and the liquid spills in all directions. None of us moves to mop it up.

‘Josh – you don’t mind if I call you Josh, do you?’ Katie purrs. Josh shakes his head, always one to be taken in by a pretty face. ‘Can you tell us a little bit about yourself and your relationship with your fiancee, Jocasta Perry. Tell us why you are here tonight.’

‘Cas and I have known each other since we were children.’

Ahhhhh, chorus the audience, no doubt incited by the stage manager holding up a big sign reading ‘HOW SWEET’. We have other ones reading ‘SHAME’ and ‘CONDEMN’. The signs were Bale’s idea.

‘I love Cas. I’ve always loved her, right through school, university and when we both got jobs.’ As Josh is saying this, photos of Josh and me appear on screen. One when we are about eight and he is pushing my swing. I’m grinning, a gappy, toothless grin, and kicking my legs high. You can see my knickers. Josh looks intense and as though he’s working hard to push me higher. In fact he was trying to push me off the swing so he could have a turn. Of course he was. He was a brother to me.

‘I’ve always loved that photo,’ says Mum. I scowl at her.

There’s another one of us at university, getting our degree certificates. Josh is adjusting my gown. Then several others, where we are doing our own thing. Josh in his chambers, me at various parties or functions. The thing they have in common is that I’m always surrounded by men and holding a glass of champagne; Josh is always alone.

‘Why haven’t they shown any of you working?’ asks Mum. ‘Or any of Josh partying? He’s such a cheerful young man and he seems a loner in these.’

‘Exactly. That’s what they want to imply.’ I rake my hands through my hair. I know exactly where this is going and I’m quite powerless to stop it. Issie pats me on the knee. We don’t take our eyes off the screen.

‘Cas seems quite a party girl,’ pursues Katie.

‘Well, yes, she is,’ confirms Josh, and in case he’s misinterpreted, he adds, ‘But I like that in her.’

‘When did you get engaged?’

‘March, this year.’

‘So you’ve waited for Cas for twenty-six years. You staying at home, whilst she’s been having a high old time. I hope she’s worth the wait.’ Katie turns towards the camera and grimaces.

We don’t get to hear what Josh replies. Even if he was honest enough to admit that he didn’t exactly hang around in the wings for twenty-six years – more like bought shares in Durex – the audience don’t get to find out because the camera cuts to some affidavits from my friends and colleagues. We see them say, ‘Up for it,’ ‘Game on,’ ‘Wild,’ ‘Fun,’ ‘Skilled (laugh), if you know what I mean.’ The audience has no idea what question was asked or how the interviewee was led into a certain response. They could have been talking about my attitude to work. They could have been talking about someone else. I know this because at TV6 we aren’t always that consistent in our approach to interviewing for Sex with an Ex and we edit for maximum entertainment – rather than authenticity. In the past I’ve advocated this. Now I’m regretting it.

Katie gets Josh to talk about how he proposed to me. The audience lap up the cream rose, dimmed lights, huge diamonds. He omits to mention the fact that the weeping of the freshly ditched Jane was still echoing around the flat. Nor does he mention his New Year’s resolution or the tax breaks.

Fair enough. I wouldn’t either if I were him.

Josh talks about all the preparations, cost and care for our ‘big, traditional wedding’. He doesn’t say that my mum has done all the work. They cut to lots of footage of Josh talking to caterers, florists and the guys who erect the marquee. I can only assume this footage was filmed especially because, to my certain knowledge, Josh has not visited any of these people to actually plan for the wedding. My mother confirms this when she comments, ‘But that’s not the florist we are using.’ She looks at me and corrects herself, ‘Were using. That’s not the florist we were using. Why do you think Josh is talking to them?’

She’s far too innocent for me to be able to explain.

‘Josh, it’s clear to see that Jocasta is a bit of a flirt.’

The words cut. A neat incision.

‘But why did you contact the studio? Is there a particular ex that you feel might threaten your relationship?’ Katie Hunt tilts her head to one side and smiles sympathetically. I’ve seen her practise that in the mirror in the loos.

‘There’s this one guy, Darren Smith.’

The incision rips to a wider gash.

They play a film of the TV6 party. Even in this stupefied state I have to credit the editor. It’s a fine piece of work. Because the cameras were concealed and I obviously haven’t signed a release form allowing TV6 to film me, they have had to use a black stripe to obscure my eyes. But since they have just shown numerous stills of me, the strip doesn’t conceal my identity. I just look sinister, a bit like a masked madame at a brothel. The film starts with a shot of me slipping my engagement ring into my pocket. This is repeated four times and then it shows me greeting (a masked) Darren. Cut to me beaming like a Cheshire cat. It shows Darren being attentive towards me, bringing me caviar and champagne. They speed that bit up and, because of my animated hand gestures and his vigilance, it looks as though I am bossing and directing him on an endless stream of jobs. Fetch this, bring that, go there and come here. Cut to Darren and me dancing together. We were actually dancing to an innocuous cover version of ‘Let’s Twist Again’ but TV6 have dubbed in the husky, throbbing voice of Rod Stewart singing ‘Do You Think I’m Sexy’. The camera angles are such that I look as though I’m gyrating my groin almost in Darren’s face. Cut to me trying to get through the crowd of women hanging round Darren. Again this is speeded up, and by shaking the camera, the effect achieved is one of violence. It looks as though I’m shoving away the competition. There’s a bit where we were chatting exuberantly, my hair cloaking our faces. It looks as though we were snogging, at it like hammer and tongs. We had openly left the party together. But by editing two different bits of footage, one of Darren going to the loo and another of me going out of the room for a moment to take a call on my mobile, it looks as though we deliberately left separately and then met furtively outside the building. If this were a film about anyone other than Darren and me, I’d be thrilled.

Darren.

I watch Darren and me walk along the river. I was right – we did start holding hands by the Mall. I see us get in a cab and arrive at a hotel. The masks hide the look of longing and apprehension in Darren’s eyes and blank out the moment where the caution rinsed from mine.

It all makes sense now. That’s why we were able to get a cab so easily – a plant. The cabby knew which hotel to take us to. The one with hidden cameras in the lobby, bar and corridors. That’s why breakfast arrived even though we hadn’t ordered it. TV6 needed an affidavit from the bellboy that we were in bed together. That’s why the manager couldn’t let us stay at the hotel for another night. Too right they needed to clean the room out – more like they needed to collect evidence.

I’m right. The film finishes with a number of shots of the debris of our love. A camera pans around the bedroom we left. Empty bottles of champagne, discarded sachets of bubble bath, crumpled sheets on the bed and used condom packets in the bin. The last two shots cause the audience to titter. There is no voiceover. No accusations are actually articulated because if they were I could sue the hides of TV6 but the implication is clear.