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Younger Thinner Blonder

Page 31

by Sue Watson


  Cindi fell back with Raj, who was walking behind us all and when we were alone Nathan said; “Tan... I’m sorry about everything last night – I didn’t mean to upset you. I just needed to be on my own, when you told me about the recording studio...it just broke me, Tan.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry too.”

  “I was wondering... Have you thought what you are going to do when we get back...I mean, about somewhere to live?”

  “Oh Nathan, I don’t know. It’s been a bit like a weird holiday in here and I’ve put all my worries and plans on a bit of a back burner. Now I need to think...and it would probably be best if I just had some time on my own today, while we walk, just so I can fathom everything out. Do you mind?” This was the last day and as soon as we got out of there I’d have Donna breathing down my neck, along with Nathan and would have to find work of some sort and somewhere to live.

  To my relief, he slowed down and fell in behind. Walking along, my mind drifted from my immediate problems at home and I thought about the experiences I’d had in Nepal. I’d spent the first half of this show wanting to leave but in the last few days I’d grown to love the place and I was surprised to realise that I didn’t want to go home.

  But where was home? I hadn’t got a clue – one thing for sure was that life was going to be very different for me and Nathan when we returned to the UK. As I trekked for the last time through the beautiful, challenging mountains of Nepal, I realised one thing for certain: I was a stronger, wiser person than when I arrived. And that, at least, was something.

  So finally, after twelve arduous days in the mountains it was the night of the last show. We had survived the day’s trek with little conversation and amazingly I’d remembered the route quite well. It was a good last challenge – as Flinty said, a good opportunity to reflect. I went into Cindi’s tent to get dressed.

  “We’re ready for your close-up, Miss Travis,” Flinty joked when she came to get us.

  “We’re on air in a few minutes,” she said. “Come on!”

  I smiled and walked with Cindi over the craggy ground to the campfire setting for the grand finale. The mountains were engulfed by darkness and the cameras and lights were being set up.

  “It’s gone so well, Tanya,” Flinty whispered, turning round as we ambled along, “…and...I shouldn’t really tell you this – we don’t want to affect ‘reality’” (she did that annoying twitchy thing with her fingers to denote speech marks) “…but the ratings are the highest in the show’s history. Everyone at home is talking about Celebrity Spa Trek... In fact,” she stopped and turned round, “the Prime Minister joked about it on PM’s Questions this week.”

  “Why?”

  “Oh, nothing is as it seems, Tanya,” she smiled enigmatically.

  I was back in The Truman Show and feeling over-anxious, so did a few wipes to be on the safe side. The PM? Highest viewing figures ever? I bet Donna was delighted. Or furious. Was it something I’d done or somebody else? I had no way of knowing what the hell was going on in my own ‘reality life’.

  I arrived at the campfire where Nathan was waiting. He looked up anxiously.

  “Tanya, where have you been? I was so worried, when we got back from the trek you disappeared. I thought you’d lost it again and gone on one of your rampages.”

  “I was getting dressed with Cindi,” I smiled, thinking how he mustn’t have been too worried as he’d managed to do his hair and take his place at the fire rather than come and find me.

  Before he could say anything else, Carol-Ann turned to us, milking it for all it was worth: “Tonight we crown our Mountain King or Queen, and only one of you can be the winner of Celebrity Spa Trek. So welcome to the show everyone’s talking about. Will she, won’t she?”

  “Will she, won’t she what?” I hissed to Cindi, who looked puzzled.

  “I don’t know... Will she, won’t she go bonkers again and throw water at everyone? Be sick everywhere? Scream at people? Take your pick.” she said, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.

  “Mmm, when you put it like that...” I shrugged. She was right, I might as well have just walked off there and then and let Cindi or Nathan have their crown.

  “First,” said Carol-Ann, “here are the results of the voting so far and the name of the first of our finalists to leave us.” She waved a card at the camera and kept the suspense going for as long as humanly possible.

  “And the next celebrity leaving Nepal tonight is... A lovely lady...who’s come on quite a journey since she arrived here.”

  I moved in preparation for my departure.

  “Goodbye, Cindi!,” Carol-Ann said, as Cindi opened her mouth in shock.

  “I don’t believe it,! She said, anxiously titivating her hair. She had no artifice, and was unable to hide her surprise like everyone else had when they were evicted. Standing up, she leaned over to me, gave me a warm hug and whispered, “Don’t let that little shit win this... You go for it, Tanya,” before a half-hearted embrace with Nathan and a wave to us as she walked towards the rickety bridge and freedom.

  “So before the phone lines close, we want to show you guys and the viewers just what you’ve both been up to during your time here in Nepal.” said Carol-Ann, turning to Nathan and I.

  “Now, Tanya Travis, Queen of Daytime and... Well, you’re a bit of a dark horse... Take a look at this.”

  We both looked straight at the monitor to see a lovely mountain setting, all green and snow-topped and frilled with little prayer flags and light-hearted music. Then the camera came down the mountain to where everyone was arriving and admiring the view. Then straight in for a lovely close-up of me, covered in sick and in my underwear, giving Paul strict instructions and waving a towel in his face. This was followed by my manic under-towel fumbling, sped up, which caused the crew on set to virtually pass out in hysterics and the blood to rush to my face. This was followed by a succession of shots of me vomiting – which seemed to be on an endless loop – and of course a quick seven seconds of me hurling a bucket of water over two of my camp mates and shouting inappropriate and completely unwarranted abuse at them.

  Then the music slowed with a wide shot of the lake at sunset, me touching Ardash’s hand and then lying down next to where he was sitting. He was leaning over me talking and though it had all been perfectly innocent, it was made to look like he was staring into my eyes. I could see how, with a clever edit and the right music, it could be misconstrued. I smiled and looked over at Nathan, hoping he wasn’t too jealous (but perhaps this might give him food for thought?)

  The next shot revealed Ardash and I chatting round the campfire when everyone else had gone to bed, which moved seamlessly into a close-up of him sucking my toe. This was followed by my face thrown back in what appeared to be orgasmic pleasure. There were close-ups of our eyes meeting across the campfire, our faces flickering in the flames; giggle from me; a smile from him. All this was accompanied by Jane Birkin’s oversexed French panting of Je t’aime.

  The film ended as the camera swooped straight onto my surprised face for a reaction. I tried not to be sick.

  “It looks like things were hotting up round that campfire for you, Tanya!” Carol-Ann read from her cue card.

  “Not at all, no,” I responded, still shocked at how they’d made it look like something was going on between me and Ardash. Nathan was sitting next to me, just staring ahead. What was he thinking?

  I patted him on the knee, aware the cameras were on, but this was about real life, not about the bloody show. “You OK?” I asked, quietly, not wanting to make this into a feature film. Whatever happened now with Nathan and I, the truth was nothing had gone on with Ardash but the way it looked, Nathan would never believe me. I’d done nothing wrong, yet as a result I might lose my future husband and any chance of happiness I had. And they could now add unfaithful to my title of ‘Britain’s Most Hated Woman’, I thought, worrying what the PM would have to say in Parliament about this new development.

  Nathan continued to stare ahead
.

  “Nathan. You’re not upset are you? I mean, it’s the way they’ve edited it they can do all sorts with the edits...”

  “You’ve humiliated me, Tanya,” was all he could bring himself to say.

  “It wasn’t like that... There’s nothing...”

  “Don’t insult me, please. All this time you’ve been accusing me of being unfaithful and look at you. Sleeping with the bloody trekking guide.” I inwardly cringed.

  “Nathan, I didn’t sleep with him.” I said. “Don’t do this.”

  “Why?” he said, almost to the camera. “You do it to me all the time. How do you like being accused of something you haven’t done?”

  I wanted to cry, but I was desperately trying to hold it together. This was my nemesis – all the times I’d accused Nathan of being unfaithful when he wasn’t – he was right: I deserved this injustice. At this point Carol-Ann patted me kindly and told me it would all be fine. I smiled, thanking her and just wishing she and her bloody cameras, all the crew and smirking bloody Tiff would go away.

  “Now, it wouldn’t be fair if we only showed Tanya’s ‘best bits’, would it?” Carol-Ann said, walking towards the camera as it closed in on her. “...so before you decide who you want to win Celebrity Spa Trek, take a sneaky peek at this.”

  She swept off-screen and we saw on the monitor how Nathan arrived in camp, the bitchy comments from Marcus about him not being a celebrity and a quite nasty diatribe from Rex behind Nathan’s back about him being ‘a hanger-on,’ which I could see shook Nathan. Then we saw our tent, the shadowy figure of me on top of Nathan in the semi-darkness, I was making quite a noise, thrashing and yelping with joy. I didn’t realise I’d enjoyed it quite so much. I turned scarlet and glanced over at Nathan who was turning white as the blood drained from his face.

  “How embarrassing” I mouthed to him, trying to bond, but he kept on staring ahead, his jaw flexing. Then the tent action subsided and there was a close-up on the slow unzipping of canvas as Nathan clambered out smiling...followed by me...but I looked so much younger, thinner, blonder? I looked up from inside the tent…but…it wasn’t me. It was Tiff, her tousled blonde hair all over the place, her clothes rumpled, shirt buttons fastened in the wrong places and her skinny young legs bare and firm. I gasped, but before I could take in what I’d just seen, we were treated to more shots of them together, at the side of the mountain, behind a tree. I wasn’t even spared the intimate whispers between them of what they might like to do to each other at some point in the near future when the show was over. The VT eventually came to an end and the camera honed straight in on my face. I put my hand up to the camera. “No more. Please – I’ve seen enough.”

  I stared ahead, as if made of stone, images of what I had just seen whirring in my head. But in the pit of my stomach, the deepest recesses of my heart, I wasn’t really surprised. I was angry that Nathan had lied and had made me feel like everything was my fault. I was upset that my humiliation had been beamed to millions of viewers, live on air. But surprised? No. For the first time I felt in control, almost liberated and I realised that throughout the shocking on-air revelations, I had yet to shed a single tear.

  “Here are the numbers to vote for your favourite King or Queen of the Mountains... So get calling and texting. You can also vote online via Facebook. Join us after the break, when we will be announcing your winner.”

  “Tanya, oh my God! Can you believe what they did with that edit?” Was Nathan’s hilarious opening line as he leaned over to me and touched my knee.

  “It’s amazing what editors can do these days,” I said, stony-faced.

  Then I heard the familiar whirring of the camera.

  “I know being with me has been tough on you,” I started. “And I have given you the benefit of the doubt for the four years we’ve been together...” Nathan began to protest, but I put my fingers gently to his lips.

  “Please don’t try to insult me with an explanation because at this stage it’s irrelevant. I believed that I needed you so much I couldn’t live without you. I would have stayed with you, whatever the truth was. As it is, I now know the truth...and it is the truth that has given me the strength to say goodbye to you. I am not frightened of being alone anymore. It’s over, Nathan.”

  He was visibly shocked and had it not been such a sad moment I might have giggled at him, his hair standing on end and his mouth open.

  “It was the edit... They made it look like...”

  “I’m not stupid. Though I think I have been until now. Even the most skilled film editor can’t make someone look naked and like they are having sex when they aren’t,” I snapped. “No more lies...just goodbye.”

  “But... Tanya, I can’t live without you...”

  “I don’t have any money, Nathan. And I don’t have a career in TV anymore... oh and I lost your recording studio. And that’s what you can’t live without.”

  “But it’s not – and it doesn’t matter you haven’t any money. You’re Tanya Travis... You can make money, you’ll always be famous.”

  “And you will always be unfaithful.”

  But he wasn’t listening. “You can make loads of money after this, Tanya. Dump Donna and I’ll be your husband and manager. There are other reality shows, commercials, corporates, you can do them for the rest of your life if nothing else comes up, you’ll never be stuck for work. I still want to marry you.”

  “I don’t want to marry you.”

  “Tanya, look, we’re both grown-ups, so I might have played the field a little... Tiff was chasing me for days before I gave in. She means nothing – wouldn’t take no for an answer. It’s you I really want and I won’t ever sleep with anyone when we’re married. Besides, we’d be stupid not to get married, we can make big money from the magazines with the wedding.” he joked.

  “Gosh, and they say romance is dead.”

  “You can’t just push me out of your life like that, Tanya. I’m your fiancé, we’re meant to be together. I can’t live without you... We’re a team.”

  “We aren’t, Nathan. We aren’t a team. You don’t have a job and you rely on me for everything.”

  “It’s all about money with you, isn’t it Tanya?” he said angrily, trying a different tack. “You think you own me then dump me and you won’t see me anymore. Do you think I’ll just conveniently walk out of your life – that I won’t go to the papers and tell them what a sad, paranoid bitch you are?”

  I looked at him steadily.

  “Through all that, not once did you say you wanted to marry me because you loved me, Nathan.”

  I’d spent the past four years worrying about blondes in their twenties who’d apparently hounded him in bars and taxis and now Tiffany. But at that moment, it dawned on me that they weren’t the reason Nathan didn’t love me. He didn’t love me, because he could never love anyone but himself.

  There was nothing left to say.

  “Tonight it’s your final,” Carol-Ann walked slowly, carefully back into shot while talking to the camera. “So... you heard it here first, the ‘romance’ everyone’s been talking about is over. Tanya Travis dumps Nathan Wells, live on air. Now, you the public will decide the fate of this year’s hottest love affair.”

  I sat quietly, looking straight ahead. The result no longer mattered to me – I had to think about the things in my life that were actually important.

  I sat by Nathan, not really caring about the outcome, just wanting to get away as Carol-Ann made the most of her last few minutes on prime-time. Would she still be young and beautiful enough next year, or would someone else take her place? Make hay while the sun shines, Carol-Ann, I said to myself, it’s later than you think.

  “Well, it seems the British Public have decided who they want to be this year’s winner of Celebrity Spa Trek...” again the pausing, the waiting, but by now I didn’t care. All I could think about was how sad and tawdry my life had become and how ridiculous I must look in the eyes of the world.

  “And now what the
whole country has been waiting for... The winner of this year’s Celebrity Spa Trek...the King or Queen of the mountains by a landslide is... Wait for it... it’s... Congratulations Tanya Travis! You are the Celebrity Spa Trek winner! And Queen of the Mountains!”

  I was amazed. What had the viewers seen? They’d obviously enjoyed my madness, my ageing cry for help and my incessant need to vomit. I was dumbstruck as a makeshift crown was plonked on my head and Carol-Ann helped me up to guide me to my ‘throne.’ The celebrities from camp trouped back (even disgraced Paul, who looked a little the worse for wear) hugging me, clapping and shouting ‘Go Tanya!’ as fireworks went off and streamers exploded over me.

  I’d spent twelve days on another planet, during which time I had endured discomfort, bitchiness, filth, anxiety rates in double figures, gallons of sick and a public breakdown. I had just watched my fiancé have great sex with another woman and my beautiful wedding was now cancelled. I would never be a bride, but hey, I was Queen of the Mountains and I had my very own plastic crown and ridiculous throne. You couldn’t make it up.

  TWEET: @AgentDonna Gr8 show tonight as @TanyaTruth was crowned #QueenOfMountains. Hurrah! #BestAgentEver #AlwaysListen2Agent #Don’tBelieveWhatURead

  Part 3

  32

  The Moon on a Stick and a Plastic Crown

  The wrap party was loud, exuberant, full of press and hangers-on and I wanted to leave after four seconds. The only reason I made it there at all was Donna. As soon as the show had wrapped, she had swept onto the set and accosted me on my throne. “Honey bee!” she shrieked, rushing towards me on stilt-like Louboutins. “You have made Mama Bear SUCH a proud agent!” and she threw her arms round me, enveloping me in the familiar and comforting aroma of Shalimar and tobacco fumes. I smiled sadly. I was pleased to see her, but everyone else on the show had been met afterwards by friends, family or partners. It was clear from the kisses and the tears that there had been lots of love and lots of missing. The irony was that Tanya Travis, ‘Queen of the Mountains’, had won the title but was the saddest contestant at the party. Since arriving there I’d lost my home, my fiancé and any chance of walking down the aisle in this life. I wasn’t ungrateful, but a plastic tiara and a double page in heat could hardly compensate for a lost life, no veil and no future.

 

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