Hattie suddenly appears by her side, looking out of sorts.
‘You OK, Hats?’
‘We’re all so distracted by these new clothes that we haven’t talked about what’s really happening. Who are we dressing up for, Amy?’
The housemates are sitting at each of their tables, waiting for their guests to arrive.
‘They’ve done the whole exes thing. It can’t be them again,’ says Jackie. ‘I’m pinning my hopes on the cast of Magic Mike.’
‘Oooh, maybe some single celebs! Get the ratings up!’ cries Gemma, excited.
‘Sadly, I don’t think they have a ratings problem, my love. But you could be right.’ Jackie glances over at Flick. ‘Jesus Christ, would you look at her go? I’m surprised they haven’t had to change her batteries yet.’
‘Jacks,’ Amy whispers, and holds her finger to her mouth.
Flick’s tea party is miles ahead of everyone else’s, which surprises no one. Earlier on, as she was laying out her cucumber sandwiches under a refrigerated damp cloth to keep them fresh, she told them that she hosts a tea party every month in the summer. Coming last in the catering stakes is Jackie, without a doubt. On her menu, which took her under five minutes to prepare, is white sliced bread with butter and sugar, a plate of hard-boiled eggs and a bowl of oven chips.
‘What?’ she asks Flick, who’s staring at her tea. ‘It represents my childhood, and I want my guests to know where I come from.’
Amy’s menu is OK. She knows what to serve at a tea party, but she’s no Flick. She picked her menu based on what she fancied eating, which was mini cheese quiches, cheese scones and mini cheesecakes. She was tempted to pick a third savoury cheese option, but reluctantly accepted she needed a sweet.
Hattie doesn’t seem to care about the sweets, and she’s a chef. On her menu are honey-glazed cocktail sausages, sausage rolls and pork pies. ‘They’re men. They like meat, don’t they?’ was her logic. There seem to be fewer cocktail sausages than there were earlier. When Amy sees Jackie distract her and Gemma steal a few, she understands why.
KNOCK!
‘All right, girls?’ shouts a buff man in a tight v-neck T-shirt and blazer as he steps into the garden, followed by a small squad of fellow meatheads.
‘Jason!’ Gemma shouts. ‘What the fuck are you doing here? I don’t wanna see ya!’ She folds her arms and looks down at her lap, hiding a smile.
‘Oi, babes, that ain’t how you greet a guest, is it?’ He grins, chewing gum with his mouth open. ‘Hug?’
‘Oh, sod off, you silly prat,’ she mumbles. ‘Hold on, isn’t that …?’ Her words get stuck as she peers behind Jason.
It is. It’s Ricky from Single Dads. He broke hearts on the show last year by attending lessons on how to do his daughter’s hair for school.
‘How you doin’, Gemma? I’m Ricky. I think I’m with you today.’
‘Aw, bless you, Ricky!’ She reaches her arms around his enormous torso and gives him a squeeze. Jason coughs and looks down.
‘Calm down, Jase, it’s just a hug!’
‘I didn’t do nothing!’ he protests. ‘Besides, I’m with the lovely Amy this afternoon.’ He grins at Amy with teeth the colour of fresh snow.
Ricky isn’t the only familiar face here. Hattie’s hosting health and fitness influencer @bicepsnberries. Amy only recognises him because Jamie’s obsessed with his mushroom tea. Hattie won’t have a clue who he is. Or that he’s vegan. He greets her with a forced smile and a friendly tap on the shoulder. She reciprocates. That date is doomed.
‘All right, Jackie, I’m Deano. Nice to meet you,’ says a short but ripped redhead, taking two steps forward and holding out a hand that’s too small for his beefy arm.
Jackie, who towers over him, takes it with caution.
‘Well, I dunno about you,’ he adds, ‘but I’m glad we’re gonna be sitting down. Not sure our necks could take the strain.’ She immediately relaxes into a smile.
‘You’re that bloke from Stand Up Britain, aren’t you?’
‘I certainly am. Runner-up last year. So, I’m funny but not that funny. Sorry.’ He shrugs.
‘Love, I need all the laughs I can get,’ she replies, nodding towards their table.
The producers have to be joking with Flick’s date. It’s Garth from Serial Offenders. Amy’s surprised he’s even allowed on TV, after that police chase last year. All of his crimes were minor. Petty thefts here and there. But still.
‘Hello, I’m Flick,’ she says with a shaky voice. ‘I guess you’re with me.’
He smiles to reveal his four front teeth, which are gold. Flick gasps.
Garth’s famous skull tattoo makes him look more intimidating than he probably is. It takes up the entire back of his shaved head, like a second face. When they sit down at the table opposite, Amy feels like it’s watching her.
‘How do you do?’ Jason says, distracting her.
‘Fine, thank you. And how are you?’
‘Oh dear.’ He scribbles something on a card.
‘What?’ she asks.
‘When someone says, “How do you do?”, the correct response is—’
‘“How do you do?”.’ She sighs. ‘I know that. But no one says that nowadays.’
‘I’ve never said that in my life,’ he whispers. ‘In fact, I didn’t know the answers to any of these questions, so good luck, darlin’!’ He smiles and looks back at Gemma.
‘How come you’re the only ex here?’ she asks.
‘I told them at the start that I’d never go on a date with another lass unless Gemma was there. Those were my rules. Got it in the contract ’n’ all. Not just a pretty face, am I?’ He grins.
Jason is still head over heels. And Amy guesses the feeling is mutual, as she watches them play a tennis match of glancing in each other’s direction and missing each other by a few seconds each time.
They haven’t even begun properly talking when Jason marks something else on his notepad. When he sees she’s confused, he whispers again. ‘You didn’t put your napkin on your lap immediately. Sorry! And another thing,’ he says as he looks under the table. ‘Uncross your legs. You’re supposed to sit with your legs together and your feet on the floor! Bloody upper class. Bunch of stuffy old bores. But they are the rules, Amy, sorry.’
Amy uncrosses her legs, puts her napkin on her lap and looks around to see if there’s anything else she’s forgotten. When she looks over to Flick for some pointers, she hears Flick schooling her guest on proper etiquette, as she tells him politely how he shouldn’t reach over the table for the egg and cress sandwiches but ask her politely to pass them.
‘But they’re hot! If I don’t blow on it, it’ll burn my mouth!’ Hattie says loudly to her guest, who’s making notes. ‘Well, I didn’t know you weren’t allowed to blow on hot food. What a stupid rule.’
When Amy looks back at Jason, waiting for the next question, he’s noting something again.
‘What now?’
‘It’s your fork. The prongs are facing down, not up, while it’s on the plate.’