by Sandy Barker
‘Are you talking to me, you piss-weak little shit?’ I’m about to protest again―how dare Kylie speak to her like that, or anyone for that matter―but Elizabeth’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
‘Clean it up,’ she repeats, louder this time.
‘How about, “No fucking way”?’ Kylie laughs, then pushes herself off her perch and makes to leave.
Elizabeth (literally) stands her ground, leaping off her chair and blocking Kylie’s exit. ‘Clean it up!’ she shouts. ‘You made this mess, so you clean it up!’
‘Get out of my way, you nutter.’ Kylie goes to step past her, but Elizabeth slams a palm into her shoulder. I’m off my stool immediately, certain that a cat fight is about to erupt.
‘You clean it up now, or I’ll―’
‘You’ll what?’
I pull up just as I reach Elizabeth, Kaz close behind me, and turn at the sound of the additional voice. Tara has descended the stairs and in several long strides, she traverses the distance to the kitchen. She glares down at Elizabeth who, to her credit, lifts her chin in defiance. ‘You’ll what?’ Tara taunts, clearly not expecting an answer. I’m ready to reach for Elizabeth and pull her from the fray but there’s something in the shift of her stance that makes me hold off.
‘I’ll wait until you’re both asleep,’ she says, her voice gravelly, ‘then I’ll sneak into your room and cut off that ugly, frazzled Morticia hair of yours,’ she says to Tara. ‘And your disgusting platinum mop,’ she directs at Kylie.
Kaz barks out a laugh and I have to clap a hand over my mouth so I don’t do the same. I hear Becca’s familiar giggle behind me, then I can’t control it anymore and I burst out laughing. It must be infectious, because Elizabeth starts laughing too.
Kylie and Tara share an incredulous look, then all hell breaks loose. ‘How dare you!’ ‘You’re just jealous!’ ‘You fucking mole, you come anywhere near me―’
Just as I’m thinking it’s a shame this isn’t being filmed―Elizabeth standing up to these bullies would make for great television―Jack’s voice booms across the room.
‘That’s enough!’
Silence, as six Does freeze like actual deer frozen in headlights.
‘What’s going on?’ Justine wanders in from outside, her skin glistening with saltwater―like every other morning, she’s just been for a swim.
Jack doesn’t reply, but instead makes a beeline for the fracas. ‘Kylie, Tara, I’d like to speak to you privately, please.’
They both start speaking at once. ‘That’s not fair.’ ‘It was her.’ ‘She threatened to cut my bleedin’ hair awf!’
‘Stop!’ God, he really can command a room when he wants to. Rawr. ‘I mean it. Upstairs to your room, right now.’ My mind flashes forward to an image of me and Jack at home, one of our teens playing up and him taking charge. I won’t lie, it’s a very sexy flash-forward.
Daphne is coming downstairs right as Jack marches the Cruella Sisters up to the second storey. The evil twins push past her roughly, and I swear I hear, ‘Well, I never,’ from Daphne. When she joins us in the kitchen, she’s clutching at her string of pearls. ‘What in god’s name is going on?’ she asks, looking between us.
‘Kylie was being a prize bitch,’ says Kaz, ‘then Lizzie stood up to her and then Tara, in full-on, supremo bitch mode, joined in and―I swear to god―I was a millisecond from decking her, but then Jack broke it all up. You missed the whole thing.’
I catch Harry jogging up the stairs out of the corner of my eye, walkie talkie in one hand, a suitcase in the other. Something is about to go down.
‘Are you all right?’ Daphne asks Elizabeth.
‘Uh, yes, thanks.’ Elizabeth exhales a long sigh and collapses onto the nearest stool.
‘Well, then well done you,’ says Daphne. As if the morning hasn’t been bizarre enough, Daphne chooses now to start being a person and Elizabeth perks up considerably at the praise.
Becca gets her a glass of water and we’re sharing excited recounts when we hear loud crashes from upstairs. We exchange looks, American soap opera-style, then watch as Tim appears, camera on his shoulder, and sprints up the stairs. This is followed by a stream profanity that echoes through the cavernous house.
Tara.
She’s being kicked out of the Manor and if they air any of this footage, they’ll need more bleeps than when Daniel smacked Womble’s arse and sent her racing across a field with me on top. There’s more crashing about and without discussing it, we’ve crept en masse towards the bottom of the stairs to get closer to the action.
‘I will fucking sue you!’ shouts Tara. She appears at the railing at the top of the stairs, dragging her suitcase. ‘What the bleedin’ ’ell are you lot staring at?’
We scatter like ants in a rainstorm and I head for the lounge room and plop onto one of the sofas, where I’ve got a direct view of the unfolding scene. Tara makes her way downstairs, her heavy suitcase hitting each stair with a thud. The profanities keep flying, and Tim follows hot on her heels, capturing the whole incident on camera. It’s even got a microphone attached, which is a good thing, as Tara rips the battery pack from her waistband and throws it down the stairs, then claws at her microphone cord, violently tossing it aside as soon as it’s free.
When she gets to the bottom of the stairs, her eyes scan the enormous room, pinning each of us with a vicious glare. ‘And fuck all you slags, especially you, you fucking cow,’ she says to Elizabeth. ‘Lying about me stealing your passport. You just watch your fucking back.’
‘Oh, do shut up, you foul-mouthed harpy.’
‘Hah! Bravo, Lizzie,’ says Kaz, clapping and bellowing out a hearty laugh. The rest of us join in, clapping and cheering Tara’s departure and I’ve never seen a person’s head explode before, but there’s a first time for everything and it looks like that may just happen.
‘Fuck all of you!’ she screams. She swings open the front door so hard, it smashes into the wall, then drags her suitcase down the front steps of the Manor and along the gravel driveway, no doubt a difficult feat when not in a lather. Tim follows her and the rest of us congregate on the front porch to watch the departure of the worst Villain in The Stag’s history.
In a final hurrah, Tara turns and gives us, the Manor, and the ‘entire fucking world’ the finger―her words, not mine.
‘I’m not sure where she thinks she’s going,’ says Jack, who I hadn’t realised was standing right behind me. ‘We haven’t even booked her flight yet.’
‘And it’s not like she can walk all the way to the airport,’ says Harry, who’s also joined us.
‘So, what are you going to do?’ I ask.
Jack rubs his chin and looks at his brother. ‘What do you reckon? Send Carlie after her in one of the vans?’
‘Yeah, I guess so.’
‘Believe me, if it wasn’t in her contract that we’ll fly her home, I’d let her fend for herself,’ says Jack.
‘Did she really take my passport?’ asks Elizabeth.
‘Uh, yeah. Actually, here.’ Jacks retrieves her passport from his back pocket and Elizabeth is so overjoyed, tears spring to her eyes.
‘Oh, my goodness, thank you.’
‘Actually, you can thank Abby. She’s the one who figured it out. How ’bout we all go back inside and I’ll catch you up,’ he says.
Kaz slings an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder as we make our way inside. ‘I’m so proud of you, Lizzie. You were amazing standing up to those cows.’
Elizabeth is suddenly her shy self again and ducks her head, the colour in her cheeks rising. ‘Thanks.’ When we’re all seated in the lounge room―all the remaining Does except Kylie, who is glaringly absent―Jack addresses us while Harry goes off to find Carlie so she can collect Tara from the side of the road. Roadside Villain taxi for one?
‘Right, so without going into too much detail, it turned out that Tara took your passport, Elizabeth, and Kylie knew about it. So, I spoke with the executive producer this morning and sh
e agreed that Tara would be removed from the show immediately and that Kylie will not receive a pin at the next Pin Ritual.’
‘Wait, so you’re making Kylie go through with the Pin Ritual?’ asks Justine.
‘Uh, yeah. The stolen passport wasn’t her doing, but she kept quiet about it when she could have―should have―come forward, so she’s off the show too.’
‘So, that means we’re all safe,’ says Kaz. ‘The six of us,’ she adds, looking around the group.
‘Uh, that’s right. You’ll all be here for at least another week.’
‘Yes!’ says Kaz and knowing her little secret―that she doesn’t like Daniel and is having her first proper holiday in years―I’m happy for her. I am also happy for Elizabeth, who can finally go home. And even though we all have different reasons for being here, or wanting to stay, the others seem pleased with the news.
‘Elizabeth, can I talk to you outside for a sec?’ asks Jack, indicating the backyard.
‘Yes, all right.’ She joins Jack on the threshold where the glass bifold doors have been opened, and they go out the patio and start talking in low murmurs.
Just then, Tim re-enters the Manor. ‘How far did she get?’ asks Kaz.
‘Right to the end of the road. You know where that giant pink house is at the T-junction?’ There are various affirmative responses―we’ve driven past that house every time we’ve left the Manor. And I don’t mind pink, but who paints their fancy mansion the colour of an Easter egg?
‘Yeah, she stopped there, but I got tired of being shouted at, so I came back.’
‘Yeah, no need to stick around and get abused,’ says Justine.
I yawn, then glance at the clock. Is it really only 9:50am? It feels like it’s already been a full day, but we’d better get moving. Daniel’s due at 11am and we need to be camera ready. Today, we’re playing some weird version of ‘Truth or Dare’. Ooh, I wonder if Kylie is supposed to join in. We haven’t heard a peep from her since she went upstairs at Jack’s command. I doubt she’ll want to show her face but if we’re going through the pretence of her being eliminated this week, then surely she needs to be in the footage leading up to the Pin Ritual?
I’d call this feeling ‘schadenfreude’ if there had been even a second when Kylie and I were friends. So, I guess that makes it ‘justice’.
‘Er, lovelies,’ I say, even though Daphne’s here too, ‘our Stag is arriving in just over an hour and we need to get ready.’ With the way they reluctantly peel themselves off the sofas, it’s as though I’ve said it’s time to spring clean the Manor. I guess I’m not the only one who’s already shattered.
I’m about to follow the others upstairs when Jack calls, ‘Hey, Abby, have you got a sec?’
‘Of course,’ I say, turning back. ‘For you, Jack, I have all the seconds,’ I think. I join him and Elizabeth on the patio. ‘Everything sorted?’ I ask her.
She nods. ‘They’ve booked me on a flight in the morning.’
‘In the morning? But that’s so soon.’
She grins at me. ‘I’ve been in the Manor an extra week, Abby. I just want to go home now.’
‘I know, of course you do. It’s just … I’ll miss you.’
‘I’ll miss you and the girls, too, but we’ll stay in touch and I visit London sometimes. We can catch up.’ Reality is rudely intruding on my Stag Manor bubble and I don’t care for it one bit. I don’t want to think about being back in London―more accurately, I don’t want to think about being back in London having said goodbye to Jack, my (former) potential love interest and (now) sort of friend.
‘Can we at least give her a proper send off?’ I ask Jack.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Like a dinner, or something―tonight. Just us Does.’
He rubs his chin, the gesture I’ve come to know as him thinking something through. ‘I guess that would be okay. We’re only filming today, so … Is that what you want, Elizabeth? Or would you prefer a quiet night?’ Oh, of course―I should have asked her what she wants.
‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed,’ I say.
‘No, no, it’s a lovely idea. I’d like that. But maybe it can be all of us, not just the Does.’ She looks up at Jack. ‘So, you and Harry, and how about Carlie and Tim as well? They’re the crewmembers we spend the most time with and I’ve actually become quite friendly with Carlie.’
Jack smiles at her. ‘I’ll talk to Harry and we’ll arrange something. Oh, not Daniel, though, right?’ Elizabeth makes a face like she’s sucked on a lemon and I stifle a giggle. ‘Thought not. Anyway, I’ll take care of it.’
She grins again. ‘That’s brilliant! Right, I’m off to pack and tell the others about tonight. And, Abby, they’re flying me home business class!’ she adds.
‘It was the least we could do,’ says Jack.
Elizabeth practically skips off, then runs up the stairs. ‘Oh man, I feel like I need a stiff drink.’ Jack makes his way over to the wicker patio furniture (think every film you’ve ever seen set on a tropical island) and falls into one of the chairs.
‘Are you all right?’ I ask, sitting opposite him.
He puts his head in his hands. ‘That really could have gone another way. I was totally packing myself.’
‘Really? You seemed fairly sure of yourself to me.’ I recall the way he ordered Tara and Kylie upstairs and squirm in my seat when my body warms at the memory.
Jack lifts his head. ‘Fuck me …’ I suppose that responding, ‘Yes, please,’ isn’t appropriate, so I stay silent. ‘In all the time I’ve worked in reality TV, that’s the worst situation I’ve ever been in.’
‘So, how did you know that they took the passport―or did you decide to confront them and see if they caved?’
‘Nah, we knew for sure. We couldn’t search their room, ’cause that would have, you know …’
‘… Breached the privacy clause,’ I say, finishing his thought.
‘Exactly, but I realised that we do have the rights to all the audio we record even when you’re not on camera.’
‘Oh, yes, of course. You’re not allowed to use those recordings on the show …’
‘… But we own them, so they were fair game.’
‘That’s brilliant!’
‘Well, thank you.’ He looks well chuffed. ‘It was a shit of a job, of course, but Harry and I took turns, working through most of the night, and we hit the jackpot this morning, right before we confronted them. Tara saying how she wished she could brag about it to everyone. And Kylie egging her on―that’s how we knew she was also culpable.’
‘God, Jack, you must be exhausted.’ It’s only now that I notice the stubble and the dark shadows under his eyes―and that he’s wearing the same T-shirt as yesterday. This one is Kermit coloured and says, ‘It’s not easy being green’. It’s clearly not easy producing a reality television show either.
‘Yeah, I am―mostly relieved, though. Hopefully, we can get Tara on a flight today.’
‘Or―and hear me out―there are no seats on any flights for at least the next few days and she has to sit in a hotel and stew. No! Even better―a motel―a rubbish one.’
‘You’re something of an evil mastermind, you are,’ he says, the corners of his eyes creasing mischievously.
‘I’m just overly attached to justice,’ I retort.
‘Hmm. I’d feel better knowing she’s on her way back to the UK and not our problem anymore.’
‘Well, there’s that too, I suppose.’ We share a smile and my breath catches a little.
‘Hey,’ he says, serious again, ‘really, thank you, Abby.’
‘For what?’
‘For everything―for figuring it all out, for being such a good friend to Elizabeth,’ he replies, his eyes filled with appreciation. ‘This could have dragged on for weeks, but now we’re good. And we’re on the home stretch.’
The home stretch―another allusion to all this ending soon―possibly even sooner if Roberta wants me gone. But with Jack’
s eyes locked on mine and us talking properly for the first time in ages, my little Manor bubble has got even smaller and for this one perfect moment, it’s just us. I don’t want to ruin it by asking whether my rewrite was enough to keep me here.
‘Right,’ he says, slapping his palms on his thighs and making me start. Moment lost, bubble popped. ‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.’ I shake my head at him, smiling. ‘I’ve just got a million things to do.’
‘Go! See if Carlie found Tara and let her know where she’s taking her.’ It’s either the airport or a hotel, or if Jack reconsiders my suggestion, a rubbish motel.
‘Yes, first on my list.’ He stands. ‘Then I’ll organise something for tonight and get set up for filming in’ ―he checks his watch― ‘shit, an hour.’
‘I’ve thrown you in it, haven’t I? Sorry, I hadn’t realised you and Harry were up all night.’
‘Nah, it’s all good. We can grab a kip after we wrap up filming this arvo. It’ll be cool. We’ll probably just order something in, have a few drinks, hang out―and no cameras.’
‘Sounds perfect,’ I say. And if it weren’t for the other eight people who’d be there, it also sounds like the perfect date. Though, in front of the others, I will have to be Doe Abby―the version of me who likes Daniel, not the gorgeous Australian.
Chapter Sixteen
The Stag in Sydney Recap:
One Big Happy Family (sort of)
by Anastasia Blabbergasted
Well, there was no way that we could have seen this coming! The latest season of The Stag is keeping this girl on her proverbial toes!
* * *
Remember last week when lovely Elizabeth was eliminated by not-so-lovely Daniel and had to say goodbye to her friends in the Manor? Of course, you do! It was only a week ago. So, imagine our collective surprise when we discovered that she’s been in the Manor ever since, because the Cruella Sisters conspired to steal her passport and she was left stranded far from home and out of love!
