Unknown - Game Over

‘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. 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.