The Dating Game

by Sandy Barker

  ‘There you are!’ calls Harry from the patio. ‘Come on through, Abby. We’ll get your confessional done, then Becca’s, ’kay?’

  I nod, allowing myself one last glance at Jack. ‘Good luck,’ he says.

  ‘Thank you. I need it.’

  Outside, the set dresser is putting finishing touches on the trellis behind the confessional bench and she smiles at me as I sit down. ‘You look lovely,’ she says. I’ve gone blank on her name but say, ‘Thank you,’ then try to remember it as she works behind me. The simple thought process calms me, keeping my mind from chewing on and regurgitating my multitude of worries.

  ‘You right there, Abby?’ asks Carlie, though it must be rhetorical as she doesn’t wait for a reply. Instead, she reaches down to arrange the layers of my gown, ensuring they fall ‘just so’. ‘Whaddya reckon?’ she says to the woman whose name I’ve forgotten. They both step back and survey me in situ.

  ‘Perfect.’ Nameless woman smiles at me. ‘Good luck,’ she says as she and Carlie clear the set. Then it’s just me―well, me, the boom operator, Harry, Tim, and the rest of the crew who are gathered to watch my last confessional. Even Jack makes an appearance in my peripheral vision.

  ‘Be Doe Abby. That’s all you have to do. It’s a role, just like writing as Anastasia. She wants to win Daniel’s heart and she’s the Villain. You can do this.’ A much better pep talk this time.

  Tim adjusts the camera lens, watching the monitor closely, then activates the camera. ‘So, Abby,’ says Harry, ‘tell us how you’re feeling.’

  A wave of calm washes over me and I speak straight into the camera. ‘Excited. It’s been a wonderful journey, getting to know Daniel, and here we are at the final Pin Ritual. I can’t wait.’

  ‘You sound fairly confident that Daniel will choose you.’

  ‘Of course! We have a strong connection, and I’m a far better match for him than Becca.’

  ‘How so?’

  I can say what I like here, as neither Daniel nor Becca will hear it until after the show has aired. I also need to set up Doe Abby for a momentous, villainous fall when Daniel (hopefully) chooses Becca.

  ‘Well, I’m British for a start and while it’s sort of charming, it’s become obvious over the past couple of months that Becca simply doesn’t understand the British way of life, our sensibilities. Daniel and I also see eye to eye on philanthropy, having already discussed opening a wildlife sanctuary in Scotland.

  ‘I suppose what I mean to say is that Becca’s lovely, but Daniel needs someone who won’t let him walk all over them―someone like me. I will keep Daniel in check,’ I say emphatically, ‘and that makes me much better suited to him.’

  Ironically, this is true, but despite what he’s said of late, I’m betting that Daniel will choose the yes-woman over the no-woman. And once he does choose Becca, I hope she will immediately come to her senses and drop him. If not immediately, then before she does something foolish―like marry him.

  ‘What specifically did Daniel say that makes you so confident he’ll choose you?’

  ‘That he will.’

  ‘Cut!’ Harry’s voice snaps me out of my reverie in which I’ve just channelled the worst version of myself and when I catch his eye, he grins, then bellows, ‘Okay, someone go get Becca.’

  ‘No need.’ All eyes snap to Becca who is standing on the threshold between the lounge room and the patio. From the look on her face, she has heard every word I’ve said. Oh, god.

  If I were in her situation, I’d run upstairs, throw myself on my bed and sob, but Becca is not me. ‘I’m ready, Harry,’ she says, walking out to the confessional set and standing right in front of me. ‘You’re in my seat,’ she says, her jaw clenched and her eyes cold.

  I rise, my legs trembling, and walk off the set into the lounge room where I collapse onto a sofa. I absolutely do not want to hear Becca’s confessional―essentially the nails in the coffin of our friendship. I cannot believe she heard me say those horrible, horrible things.

  ‘Abby, are you okay?’ Jack again.

  ‘Everyone keeps asking me that and no, I’m not.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ he says crouching next to the sofa. ‘That was a complete fuck up. Becca was not supposed to be anywhere near the set. That’s why your call times were fifteen minutes apart.’

  I throw my hands up in the air. ‘Well, the cat is well and truly out of the bag now. Becca will never speak to me again―and rightly so.’

  ‘Maybe there’s something I can do,’ he says feebly.

  I meet his eye. ‘There isn’t,’ I say. ‘It’s done. I painted myself into a corner and that’s it, that’s all there is.’

  ‘You weren’t alone. Harry and I had paint rollers too.’ It’s lovely that he wants to make me smile, but I may only have one smile left in me today and I need that for the cameras. ‘Let’s just get this over with,’ I say, hoisting myself inelegantly off the sofa. ‘Would you mind …’ I signal to where (presumably) Becca is reciprocating with a vile confessional of her own, and Jack jogs over to the bifold glass doors.

  He watches for a few moments, then turns to me. ‘She’s done, but why don’t you wait it out in here? We still need to get Daniel set up on the beach so we can film you walking down to him.’

  Something occurs to me. ‘Wait. I know I’m supposed to go first, but can we change the order, have Becca go first?’

  ‘Uh, I can have a quick chat with Harry. Any particular reason?’

  ‘Well, perhaps Daniel will clap eyes on Becca, looking as gorgeous as she does, and that will solidify his choice―of Becca, I mean. It’s worth a try, don’t you think?’

  He shrugs, so I can tell he’s unconvinced, but he says, ‘Sure,’ and disappears outside.

  I sink back into the sofa and start chewing on my bottom lip before I remember the velvety red lipstick and stop. The more I think about it, the more I’m sure that Daniel just needs to see Becca and he’ll make the right choice.

  ‘Right choice’―hah! Right choice for whom?

  Jack seems to be gone for eternity before he reappears. ‘Okay, so Harry and the crew are setting up on the beach with Gordo, and Becca will go first. You should probably stay in here though―they’re about to bring Daniel around from the Control Room.’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘Hey, at least we’ll know pretty soon, right? And fingers crossed it will be Becca and all this goes away. Well, you know what I mean.’ I do and I give him a smile for his efforts―a small one, but a smile all the same.

  I listen from my spot on the sofa as the crew works seamlessly to finalise the camera positions, get Daniel and Becca miked and into place, and make final tweaks before I hear Harry’s booming voice call, ‘Action.’

  But I cannot sit here doing nothing while my fate is decided―well, Doe Abby’s fate―and I stand and creep over to a vantage point where I can watch and listen without being in the shot. Becca makes her way down to Gordo and Daniel, stepping carefully on the stone path that cuts through the lawn. Her dress is champagne-coloured, and with Daniel in his tuxedo and Gordo looking like he’s officiating, it’s like watching a wedding. Becca’s hair is pinned up, loose curls captured by the light breeze, and even without seeing her face, I know she looks absolutely stunning.

  Daniel’s face is unreadable from here, but in moments, Becca stands facing him. Daniel leans down and kisses her cheek, which I hope is a good sign. The breeze has picked up now, pressing Becca’s dress against her legs, revealing their shapely lines. It’s also carrying away snatches of the conversation and I can only hear snippets―‘beautiful woman’, ‘lovely time’, ‘difficult decision’, then ‘sorry, Becca’.

  ‘Oh, god,’ I say aloud. The daft bugger has gone and chosen me.

  Becca’s head drops into her hands and she shakes it so vigorously, hair starts spilling from her up-do. Gordo tries to soothe her, but she ignores him. It’s when the breeze carries a sob in my direction, that my heart wrenches and I can stand it no longer. An id
iotic twat has hurt my friend and I can’t watch it unfold without doing something.

  I stride out of the Manor and down the stone path with no regard for my safety (stone paths and spiky heeled sandals being a dangerous mix). Ignoring all the warning bells clanging loudly in my head, I step onto the beach and call out, ‘Stop! Stop everything.’

  It’s hard to say who looks more surprised―Daniel, whose mouth hangs open, Gordo who looks to Harry horrified, like he’s missed a cue, or Becca, who blinks her teary eyes at me, a furrow between her brows. Unfortunately, I didn’t think beyond ‘stop the proceedings’ and when I reach them, we stand gawping at each other like some bizarre four-person surprise party.

  Eventually, Daniel breaks the spell with my name. ‘Abby? What’s going on?’

  ‘You’re making an enormous mistake, that’s what’s going on.’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ he insists.

  ‘Yes, yes, you are. You don’t want to be with me.’

  ‘I do. I do want to be with you.’ Becca yelps, as if he’s physically wounded her.

  ‘No! You only think you do because you’re a fickle, confused idiot.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘See? That, that right there. You say you want someone who’ll challenge you but, really, it irks you. And here you have this goddess of a woman, who’s bright and beautiful and kind, and you choose me? Idiot!’

  ‘What are you on about, Abby? I heard your confessional, remember? I’m simple and unsophisticated and a bad match for Daniel,’ says Becca, practically spitting the words at me.

  ‘Wait, you said that?’ Daniel asks me.

  ‘Well, yes, but―’

  ‘But what? Were you lying then or are you lying now?’ Becca asks. ‘Because either way, you’re a liar.’

  ‘I …’ Oh, bugger all this to hell. I cannot tell the truth―the ripple effects of a few words could be career ending―and not just for me. ‘Gah!’ I cry in frustration.

  ‘Oh, so you get to be upset, Abby? You do? You pretended to be my friend for weeks―only yesterday you were spouting all sorts of crap about wanting to be friends when this is all over. But it’s a lie. It’s all been a lie. You’re no better than Tara or Kylie.’

  All the things she’s saying hurt―they’re punches to my heart―but being equated with the Cruella Sisters is the worst. Still, I can say nothing.

  ‘I trusted you, Abby. And you’re nothing but a lying, manipulative bitch.’

  ‘That’s enough, Becca!’ For a moment, I think it’s Daniel―or even Gordo. But, as Gordo has stalked off the beach, throwing up his hands and mumbling about his agent, and Daniel is now perched on the edge of a sun lounger in an open-mouthed stupor, neither are my rescuer. ‘Harry can we cut, please?’ asks Jack curtly as he makes his way over to our grisly tableau.

  ‘Oh, yeah, sorry. Cut!’ I glance at Harry who’s standing on the lawn and scratching his head. The rest of the crew look just as baffled and when I turn back to our little gathering on the beach, Jack looks livid.

  ‘Becca, look, I’m really shooting myself in the foot here but Abby …’ He shakes his head and spits out a ‘fuck’, then expels a frustrated sigh.

  I try to catch his eye, but there’s obviously an intense internal discussion happening. ‘Jack,’ I say, hoping I can stop him before this whole thing comes crashing down.

  ‘No, Abby,’ he says, finally looking at me, ‘I can’t … I can’t let this go on any longer. Becca, Abby took your place as the new Villain.’

  ‘What?’ gasps Becca.

  ‘What does that mean?’ asks Daniel from the sun lounger, his synapses finally firing again. ‘What is god’s name is a “Villain”?’

  Jack throws him a contemptuous look, then turns back to Becca. ‘It’s true. Harry and I … we messed up and Abby overheard us saying that with Tara and Kylie gone, we wanted to edit your footage to make you the new Villain.’

  Becca looks at me, her confusion apparent. ‘Is that true, Abby?’

  ‘Yes.’ Well, except how I found out, but I’ll have to let that part go.

  ‘It’s true,’ continues Jack. ‘She confronted us and said that you were too good a person to be made into a Villain, that the viewers would end up hating you, and she didn’t want that.’

  ‘Wait …’ Becca turns to me. ‘So, that was all pretend, what you said in the confessional?’ I nod and her eyes slick with tears again. ‘Oh, my god, Abby.’ I nibble on my lower lip, not caring one iota about velvety red lipstick. ‘You made that sacrifice for me? That’s so unselfish. And I … Oh, my god, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘You have nothing to apologise for. If our positions were reversed, I would have thought the same of you.’ I’m not sure how true this is, but the last thing I want is for Becca to feel worse.

  ‘Oh, Abs,’ she says, flinging her arms around me. I wrap mine around her waist and we hug tightly.

  ‘I still don’t understand what a “Villain” is,’ calls out Daniel.

  Becca and I pull apart and share a look. ‘What don’t you understand about it?’ I ask Daniel. ‘There’s always at least one Villain in every season of the show.’

  ‘That’s true,’ confirms Jack.

  ‘Well, how the bloody hell would I know that?’ asks Daniel, his voice getting loud and pitchy.

  ‘Hang on,’ I say, ‘have you never watched The Stag?’

  ‘No, why would I?’ he responds, his face sour. It’s like I’ve asked if he trawls for his clothes in rubbish tips.

  Becca flicks her head in my direction leans in close. ‘Has he always been like this?’ she asks quietly.

  ‘You mean a massive twat?’ I reply, abandoning all hope that he ever wanted to improve himself.

  ‘Mm-hmm.’

  ‘Yes, and increasingly so.’

  Her eyes flash with understanding, as though a fugue has lifted. ‘But when did you figure that out and how―’

  ‘Hey, everyone,’ says Harry, cutting Becca off. ‘I hate to bust up this little party, but we still have a finale to shoot. Uh, Jack, a word?’

  Jack, now looking sheepish, walks with Harry down to the lapping water where they put their heads together and talk in murmurs. After a moment, Jack lifts his head and catches my eye, giving me a quick smile before Harry backhands him on the shoulder.

  ‘Uh, Abby,’ says Daniel, suddenly beside me (the stealthy bugger). ‘It seems that you’ve done a very selfless and honourable thing.’ My stomach clenches at the thought of where he’s going with this.

  ‘Er, thank you.’

  ‘And does this mean that all those times you gave me a serve and put me in my place―that was you playing the Villain?’

  ‘No, no, Daniel, that was me being me.’

  ‘I see,’ he says, a ghastly twinkle in his eyes. ‘Then I was right.’

  ‘About?’

  ‘You. You have an excellent character …’ Well, closer to the truth is that I play an excellent character. ‘You’re bright, you’re selfless, and you will put me in my place when I need it.’ He’s peering me as though seeing me in a new light, and never has a series of compliments made me feel so uncomfortable.

  ‘What are you saying?’ I ask softly.

  ‘I’m saying that I stand by my initial decision. I choose you. Harry! Can we start the cameras, please? I still choose Abby.’

  ‘Gah!’ Me again, my frustration with Daniel, this ridiculous situation, and this dreadful, stupid assignment spilling out into one guttural sound.

  ‘Daniel, hear me when I say that you may choose me, but I do not choose you. We are not right for each other, we have less in common than you believe, and I find you to be pompous, condescending, narcissistic, and overly didactic! Do you understand? Are you hearing me?’

  ‘You don’t have to protect Becca anymore, Abby. I know you’re just saying those things to save her from further humiliation.’ I catch Becca’s expression, her brow creasing in fury.

  ‘Really? You’re so certain?’ I ask.

  ‘I
know it, darling Abby.’ Being called ‘darling’ by Daniel is the final straw.

  ‘Do you have it, the pin?’ I ask him.

  ‘The pin?’

  ‘Yes, Daniel, the pin you intend to give me.’

  He smiles, clearly thinking he’s won, and retrieves it from his coat pocket. I’m vaguely aware that Tim is close by, a camera on his shoulder, but with what I’m about to do, this will not be usable footage.

  ‘Here.’ Daniel holds out the pin, reaching for the neckline of my gown.

  ‘Thank you!’ I say, snatching it from his hand. Then (with great difficulty in my heels), I stride across the sand to Jack.

  ‘Abby? What are you doing?’ Jack asks, his voice soft and a curious smile on his lips.

  ‘Yeah, Abby, what gives?’ asks Harry.

  Ignoring Harry, I look up at Jack and smile. ‘I’m fixing it,’ I say, though I’m not wholly confident I am. ‘Daniel,’ I say, giving him a no-nonsense look, ‘I don’t want to be with you, because I’ve fallen for someone else. I’ve fallen for Jack.’ I reach up and slide the silver stag-shaped pin onto Jack’s T-shirt, being careful not to stab him with it. He’s shaking his head, but his smile is still in place.

  ‘Well, fuck,’ says Harry behind me. ‘Cut, Tim. We can’t use any of this.’ I hear the words but I don’t hear them. I’m too caught up in the gorgeous Australian man and those gorgeous green eyes and those perfect, perfect lips. I want to kiss them, but we’re interrupted.

  ‘Oh, absolutely not! You’ve been dallying with one of the crew? The crew, Abby?’ says Daniel, his disdain for ‘lowly workers’ blatant. ‘Then you’re right, you aren’t the woman for me.’

  ‘I said he was fickle,’ I say quietly to Jack who sniggers.

  ‘Abs?’ Becca approaches. ‘So …?’ She wags a finger between Jack and me. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’ I grin and she returns it.

  ‘Oh, my god! See! I knew there was something up with you.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘No one meditates that much, Abby, not even the Dalai Lama!’ Before I can register that I haven’t quite pulled off my secret ops, she grabs my hand and squeezes, just like she used to. ‘Oh, I’m so happy for you, Abby! You be good to this one,’ she says to Jack and I try not to think about how he and I still haven’t talked properly.