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. The masked woman, identifiable as Jocasta Perry, has betrayed Josh, the smiley, affable chap on the stage. I feel betrayed. Exposed. Dirty.
Katie Hunt is exhilarated. Her obvious excitement is bordering on sexual arousal. She tries to contain it as she turns to Josh.
‘So how does that film make you feel, Josh?’
There are no winners.
Poor Josh. Despite having watched every episode of Sex with an Ex, it is clear to me – his former best friend – that he had no perception of the humiliation, upset and pain he was about to bring upon himself by opening this Pandora’s box. The same could be said of me but doubly so.
How had I ever thought this showing of bloodied sheets was entertainment? How could I have ever thought that it was OK to reduce love to petty gossip and to aggrandize betrayal to something glamorous rather than grubby?
Josh looks worn and defeated. He tries, but fails, to summon his charming smile. The audience sigh collectively. He looks as though he’s going to cry. Oh my God, he is crying. It’s excruciating.
‘As I mentioned, Jocasta Perry was invited on to the show but refused to appear.’
‘That’s an outright lie. I’ll get my lawyers on to that,’ I snap, but I know the situation is beyond help or hope. TV6 have made a calculated gamble. Even if I sue for invasion of privacy, as this show has been much more intrusive than any other, they have a hit.
‘We do, however, have a recorded interview with her.’
They show footage of me in a meeting, presenting on Sex with an Ex. I am not wearing a mask because I made this film for TV, to publicize the show. I gaze brazenly at the camera. I am in fact talking about the show when I comment, ‘Sex with an Ex is unbeatable. Risky, dirty, cheeky and above all fun.’ But I know that the millions of viewers watching think I am talking about Darren.
‘And let’s leave the final word with Darren Smith,’ beams Katie.
Close-up of Darren leaving the station after having seen me on to the tube. Even the black stripe over his eyes doesn’t make him look comical – he looks more like a modern-day Lone Ranger. He leaps up the steps three at a time. He reaches the top of the steps and leaps into the air, punching it. Cut to me, winking and saying, ‘Cheeky and above all fun’, air punch, ‘above all fun’, air punch.
Issie and my mother stay silent as the credits roll. I switch off the TV.
‘What did that last bit mean?’ asks my mother.
‘Do you, do you—’ Issie’s struggling. ‘Do you think Darren was in on it?’
I pelt her with a silencing glance and she looks at her shoes. I finally find my voice.
‘How could they do that to me? I hate the studio. I hate the media.’
‘Er, you invented it. It’s your baby,’ points out Issie with uncalled-for reasonableness.
‘This isn’t a baby. Babies are cute. This is Frankenstein’s monster’s more vicious big brother.’ As I say this I know she’s thinking this serves me right. I also know she’s correct.
My eye flicks with tiredness, my head aches. I’m suddenly freezing. I go to my bedroom and unearth a jumper and some socks. Back in the sitting room my mother and Issie are sitting still, like statues, where I left them. I pull my jumper tighter around me. The chill seems to be coming from the inside.
‘So do you think Darren set you up?’ persists Issie.
‘No.’ I’m horrified that this thought has entered her head.
‘You’re certain.’
‘I’m positive. Issie, I trust him.’
‘It’s just that he did seem to forgive you rather too easily. He might be a saint, but it seems more likely that he was part of the plot and wanted revenge.’
‘You’re wrong.’ He couldn’t have faked it. I know it was absolutely real. Everything from the party,