Beyond the Lens

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Beyond the Lens Page 2

by Hannah Ellis


  “This is Adam,” I said. “Adam, this is my flatmate, Melissa. Don’t expect much chat from him,” I told Melissa. “Apparently he’s the strong, silent type.”

  She pushed her glasses up onto her nose. “Why is he filming us?”

  I gave her a quick recap of the last hour and asked for her opinion on my current predicament. I was confident Melissa would talk some sense into me. I considered myself to be a level-headed person, but Melissa took being sensible to a completely different level.

  “I think you’ve gone mad,” she said. “You can’t just waltz off to Spain. You’ve got no idea what you’re getting yourself into. Anything could happen.”

  “My mum said I should throw caution to the wind.”

  “Since when do you take her advice?” Melissa asked, seating herself beside me. “Of course she would say that – she’s crazy!”

  “Not crazy,” I corrected her. It always annoyed me when she talked about my mum and completely ignored the rule of families: I can complain about them, but I don’t extend the privilege to anyone else. “She’s just carefree, that’s all.”

  “Well, whatever you want to call it, I don’t think she’s the best person to take advice from. What would you do about work if you fly off to Spain?”

  “That won’t be a problem.” I found myself wincing as though I might be in trouble. “I got made redundant today.”

  “Are you serious? How did you get made redundant? They’ve been hiring people recently; you should talk to a lawyer.”

  “It’s not so bad. Maybe I can get a job I actually enjoy.” I noticed Adam moving out of the corner of my eye. “I forgot you were there.” He held up his arm to look at his watch. “It’s like charades. I take it you want me to hurry up and pack?”

  “No!” Melissa jumped in. “You’re not packing, because you’re not going anywhere. Clearly you had a shock, losing your job. You shouldn’t be making important decisions now. This is insane. What sort of reality show is this, anyway? What do you have to do? Do they film you everywhere? What about in the bathroom? When you’re sleeping? You need to stop and think this through.”

  She was right; I had no idea what I was getting myself into, and normally I wouldn’t have entertained the idea for a millisecond, but I wasn’t quite feeling myself. In the space of a few hours I’d lost my job and had a lecture from my mum about being spontaneous. Then voilà, a camera crew appeared in the street to whisk me off to Spain. If I didn’t believe in fate, I might have thought it was all planned.

  “I might call my mum and see what she thinks.”

  “No! Not your mum,” Melissa was adamant. “Ask someone sensible. Your dad’s good with advice …”

  She was right; my dad would give me reasonable advice. I knew exactly what he would say. It would be the exact opposite of my mum’s advice.

  “I’ll call Kerry,” I compromised. Kerry is my stepmum. She’s sensible and down to earth; fun, but without any hint of crazy. I looked at Melissa, who nodded her approval.

  Adam subtly cleared his throat as the phone rang and I looked up at him. “Could you put it on speaker?” he asked.

  I smiled at him as he retreated behind his camera, and switched to speakerphone, setting the phone down on the coffee table.

  “Hi Kerry, it’s me. I’ve got something random to ask you. I’ve been asked to do a reality TV show in Spain but I have to go now. It’s for a week. I also got made redundant today, so getting time off isn’t an issue. Melissa says it’s crazy, but I know my mum would tell me to go and have fun, so I just need a third opinion before I make up my mind. There’s a cameraman next to me recording everything and waiting for me to pack and go to the airport!”

  “Wow!” I could hear the kids shouting in the background: my two little half-brothers, Max and Jacob. They’re so full of energy that I can sit and watch them for ten minutes and feel like I’ve done a full body workout. Perhaps it’s not the best approach to exercise, but it’s as close to a workout as I ever get. “Sorry about the redundancy. How did the TV show come about?”

  “They just came up to me in the street and asked. Chelsea Cartwright is the host, she was there. I can’t decide what to do. It sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”

  “Completely! I think you should go.”

  “Oh.” I paused, surprised by her definitive response. “Is this like a reverse psychology thing?”

  “No. I really think you should go. Don’t tell your dad I said that, though. He’d definitely agree with Melissa. I think it’s about time you did something spontaneous. What’s the worst that can happen?”

  “I’ve thought about that,” I told her, leaning back against the couch. “And there are a lot of really bad scenarios!”

  “Oh, come on.” She laughed at me. “You’re sensible enough to know what you’re doing. Just don’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with. You might even have fun.”

  I looked at Melissa, who was shaking her head in defeat. “This is not a good idea.”

  “Hi, Melissa,” Kerry said. “Don’t be such a killjoy. Tell her to go and enjoy herself.”

  I sat up straight. “Okay, I’ve decided. I’m going!”

  Kerry let out a short cheer. “Have a brilliant time and call if you need anything.”

  “I will. Thanks, Kerry. I have to go and pack. I love you!”

  “Love you too. Take care.”

  “You’re not serious?” Melissa asked.

  “Very serious,” I told her while I dashed across the living room. I looked at Adam, who took me by surprise by giving me a very cute smile.

  Chapter 3

  The awkward thing about packing for a holiday with a stranger and a camera hovering over you is the underwear. I’m quite a private person, and the thought of Adam seeing my underwear was bad enough, never mind having it televised. I tried to keep my back to him as I pulled out a T-shirt from the drawer below and wrapped my knickers and bras in it before turning to pack it in the suitcase lying open on my bed. I glanced at Adam and wasn’t sure if he was smirking or if I was paranoid.

  I randomly grabbed at clothes, unsure of what I would need. I threw in my swimsuit, presuming it would be hot and I’d get at least a bit of beach time. Moving swiftly to the bathroom, I flung some toiletries in a bag and then went back to my room to look around for inspiration. I was sure to have forgotten something vital.

  I looked to Adam. “I think I’m ready. Anything else I need?”

  “Passport?” he prompted.

  “Good job I’ve got you!” I told him and dug around in a drawer until I found my passport. “Let’s go, then!”

  I hugged Melissa goodbye. “This is a very bad idea,” she warned me again.

  “You can say ‘I told you so’ as soon as I’m back!” I said, hurrying out of the door and back into the car. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” I looked from Adam to Bill. “It’s totally nuts!”

  I had a sinking feeling in my gut. I was never impulsive and I wasn’t sure why today was different. Maybe losing my job had made me a bit irrational. Melissa could be right: in fact, I was sure I’d heard somewhere that you shouldn’t make important decisions after a trauma in your life. Was losing my job a trauma? Probably not. My mind whirred as we got nearer to the airport. I was surprised to find the camera on me as I turned to Adam. I’d almost forgotten about it. I looked past it to Adam. “Do you think this is really stupid? Should I just turn around and go home?”

  He moved his head slightly and looked at me intently. I felt like I could trust him; he had kind eyes.

  “I’m sure you’ll have a great time.” Bill’s voice startled me, dragging my focus from Adam’s blue eyes. (Eye, actually, since one was concealed by the camera.) “I hear they’re putting you up in a nice place too. Sitting by the pool and drinking cocktails at someone else’s expense sounds pretty good to me.”

  “You’re right. I bet I’ll enjoy it once I get there.” I looked at Adam, but his attention was firmly on the camera.

 
“I just hope the other people aren’t weird,” Bill remarked. “I’m not sure what sort of people can fly off to Spain at the drop of a hat. Don’t people have jobs?”

  “I’ve not even thought about the others,” I said, sighing. “You’re right, though, what kind of people agree to fly out immediately for a bloody reality TV show? I’m going to be trapped in a foreign country with a load of nutters.”

  Bill’s laughter became muffled as I dropped my head into my hands. I couldn’t believe I was one of the nutters who had agreed to it.

  I said goodbye to Bill and walked hesitantly into the airport. I heard Chelsea before I saw her and the mere sound of her voice made me want to run in the opposite direction. How would I cope with her for a week?

  “Yoo-hoo! Lucy!” She was in the middle of a small crowd of people, with a few cameramen scattered around the perimeter. Detaching herself, she headed for me, her huge boobs bouncing ahead of her. Her long blonde locks flowed around her and she threw her arms up and did jazz hands as she got to me. It made me laugh and I indulged her by doing the same, albeit in a slightly sarcastic way.

  “Are you ready for a trip to remember?” she screeched.

  “I certainly am!” I decided I might as well get into the spirit of it, if I really was going to go along with this.

  “Come and meet everyone …” She bounded back to the crowd and I turned to Adam.

  “Is she on drugs or what? She’s hyper. Off we go on a trip to remember!” I mocked her. “It’s like her little catchphrase.” Adam looked meaningfully at me.

  “Is that the name of the show? Trip to remember? How cheesy!” He smirked and motioned the camera. I shrugged, not caring. If they wanted reality, they could bloody well have it.

  “I’m going to assume you’re on the show too?” A girl with amazing ginger curls broke away from the group as I approached. She looked to be about my age, in her early twenties. Although, actually, at twenty-six I was definitely in my mid-twenties now, though I wasn’t quite sure where the past five years had gone. “Or do you always have a cameraman following you?”

  “Seems like I’m on the show,” I told her. “You too?”

  “Yes! Please tell me you’re nice? I’m scared I’m going to be stuck with a load of horrible people for the week. I don’t even know why I agreed to this!” She linked her arm through mine and pulled me in to whisper conspiratorially, “You look nice.”

  “I might be a bit crazy,” I told her. “I used to think I was completely sane and rational but, as of today, I’m not so sure. I’m Lucy, by the way.”

  “Chrissie,” she told me. “Nice to meet you.” She had a pretty face, full of freckles, and gorgeous brown eyes.

  “This is Adam.” I turned but lost sight of him as the others in the group enveloped us.

  “Yay! Another girl!” A blonde towered over us. I craned my neck to look up at her. Please let her be called Barbie. That would just make my day.

  “I’m Kelly,” she said. No such luck! She was a total Barbie, though: blonde hair, bright blue eyes, a face full of make-up, and a gorgeous figure.

  “This is Lucy,” Chrissie told her, still clutching my arm. I nodded like a fool. Apparently I couldn’t even introduce myself any more.

  “How exciting is this?” Kelly said. “I can’t believe we’re going to Spain! Do you think we’ll share a room?”

  Oh God, I hoped not. I’d not thought about that. They’d sold it to me as a holiday and I’d assumed I’d get my own fancy hotel room. Please don’t let us be sharing a dorm room.

  “Where’s Margaret?” Kelly scanned the area. “Margaret, come and meet Lucy!”

  A mature-looking woman joined us and gave me a hug. “Well, this is all very weird, isn’t it, Lucy?”

  “Definitely! Are you Australian?” I asked. Her accent gave her away but she also looked like the sort of person you could drop in the middle of the Outback and she’d be fine. Maybe it was her khaki shorts and hiking boots that made her look ready for anything. She had dark skin and dark hair, which had been twisted up and held in place with a large clip, though a fair amount had fallen free and framed her face haphazardly.

  “Certainly am!” she told me. “I finally got my act together and came over this way to track down my long-lost relatives, and wouldn’t you know it, some bloody sheila in the street asks me to go to Spain. You don’t need to ask me twice!”

  I smiled at her enthusiasm; maybe the trip would be fine after all.

  “They seem okay,” I whispered to Chrissie when Kelly and Margaret moved away from us.

  “Wait until you see the boys.” She peered into the crowd. “Look, there’s Captain Caveman …”

  My eyes landed on the bearded man. I’m not sure how else to describe him. His unkempt brown beard took over his face, overshadowing his other features. He wore jogging bottoms with a grubby white T-shirt, and I decided he was probably unemployed and that’s why he could fly to Spain for a week without warning. Although perhaps I shouldn’t be so judgemental, given my current employment status.

  “The young guy is Ryan,” Chrissie told me. I followed her gaze to a younger man who looked like he’d just stepped out of a boy band with his baby face, and hair gelled into a quiff. Even from a distance, energy radiated from him. At least he seemed excited about the trip; he was literally jumping up and down.

  “Why did you agree to this?” I asked Chrissie, peeling my gaze away from Ryan. “Don’t you have a job or anything?”

  “I’m a student. Summer holidays! I was supposed to be studying this week. I threw a few books in my bag, but I’m not convinced it will be the most productive week of studying. It was good timing; I have to work for the rest of the summer. This is my last week of freedom, then I’ll be slaving away in a supermarket until university starts again.”

  We were interrupted by Jessica, who clapped her hands and waved for us to move closer. She was tall and seemed to be constantly looking down at those around her. “I just need your attention for a minute,” she told us. “This is the boring bit.”

  Moving into the middle of the group, she began handing out clipboards. “I need a signature from you all to say you agree to being filmed – theoretically 24/7, but I doubt it will be that much – and any footage can be televised. You will be given guidelines in Majorca about where you can go, and as long as you adhere to the guidelines and stay for seven days, then all your expenses will be covered. If you decide to leave early then you would have to arrange and cover the cost of the return flight.” She talked fast and I looked down at my clipboard, which held numerous sheets of official-looking paper, headed with RDT’s logo. “It’s all pretty standard and straightforward, but feel free to take a moment to read through it all before you sign.”

  Chrissie’s forehead crinkled as she flicked through the papers. I glanced over the documents, which were full of legal jargon I couldn’t quite get my head around. I glanced up and saw Margaret and Kelly flip straight to the last page and sign their names, handing the clipboard back to Jessica. The bearded man and young guy did the same. There was someone else with them, who I’d only just noticed. He casually looked over the papers, as the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile.

  “What does it mean by ‘remaining within the required confines’?” I looked to Jessica and then down at the paper again. “It sounds like we’ll be in prison or something. We are free to leave at any time, aren’t we?”

  “Of course.” She looked at me like I was an idiot. “Your accommodation will be in a traditional Spanish finca, in the hills of Majorca. It has large grounds and a pool. I’m sure you’ll love it. For filming purposes, we just need you to agree to stay where we can see you. If we arrive and you all disappear around the island, we have a slight problem.”

  “So we have to stay the whole week in this finca?” I asked.

  “No. There will be group outings and organised activities, but we’re just asking for your cooperation in order for us to capture your holiday on film.”
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br />   “When will it be aired? And on what channel?” I was slightly nervous at the thought of being on TV. If it was just some random channel that hardly anyone would see then I could cope. If the programme would be aired on a mainstream channel at prime time then I might have a rethink.

  I saw a look of impatience flash across Jessica’s face. “We’re about to launch a new channel, RealTV24, which will air different reality shows, 24/7. You’ve probably seen it advertised. RDT1 is airing a big new reality TV show next week to kick it off – you’ve no doubt heard about it. Anyway, we’re currently filming a number of shows to see which formats work best for the new channel. There is a possibility this will never be aired. You’ll be lucky if you get the 2am slot on a Tuesday. So anyone who’s here in the hope of overnight fame might want to leave now.”

  Chrissie looked at me and shrugged before she signed the papers and handed over the clipboard.

  “Any more questions?” Jessica hovered over me.

  “No,” I said hesitantly, flicking to the last page to sign my life away. I hoped I wouldn’t regret it.

  “Okay!” Jessica sounded relieved. “I also need all your mobile phones and any electronic devices. You’ll get everything back at the end of the week.” She passed around cards with a number for us to give to our families, in case of emergencies. I sent a quick message to Kerry before switching off my phone and handing it over. I noticed Margaret dig around under her shirt to pull her phone out of a security wallet tied around her waist.

  “Let’s get this show on the road,” Jessica said. “Next stop, Majorca!” A weak cheer sounded around me, and I shuffled with the crowd through the airport, feeling decidedly unsure of myself.

  ***

  “I’m Matt, one of your fellow inmates!” I’d just settled into my seat in the business class section of the plane when a tall, well-built guy took the seat next to me. I shook his hand.

  “I’m Lucy,” I told him and glanced around our section of the plane, which was bustling with TV crew, cameramen and us. “So, what’s your story, then?” I asked Matt, aware of Adam in the aisle, a camera aimed at us. “How did you end up agreeing to this?”

 

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