Beyond the Lens

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Beyond the Lens Page 13

by Hannah Ellis


  “So much fun,” I agreed. My chest tightened at the thought of going home the next day – home to my sad little life with no job, no plan, no fun and, most of all, none of these people around me. I glanced along the table, and thought of how fond I’d become of each of them. “We’ll keep in touch, won’t we?” I looked at Chrissie and Matt, and heard the hint of panic in my voice.

  “Yep,” Matt told me definitely as Chrissie smiled her answer at me.

  The waiter poured wine and brought bread baskets to the table, with an array of flavoured oils for dipping and little pots of black and green olives. He told us in broken English that he would bring out a selection of traditional tapas.

  The food was delicious, and the wine made my head fuzzy. I watched the sun set slowly over the water behind Adam. Though the view was stunning, my eyes strayed frequently to Adam, who was standing casually against a pillar at the edge of our group. Behind him the jagged rocks tumbled into the ocean. Adam’s white T-shirt showed off his bronzed skin, which glowed with the tan that had developed over the week.

  “Lucy …” I brought my gaze to Chrissie who was offering me the last triangle of tortilla.

  I shook my head. “No, thanks.”

  “Great view, isn’t it?” Matt quipped, looking over his shoulder at the sunset – and Adam. I felt myself blush again when he turned back to look at me with a cheeky grin, and Chrissie elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Let’s have a dance.” Dylan was suddenly standing beside me, offering me his hand. He led me to the open space beside our table and I noted the looks from the other diners, intrigued by our camera crew and impromptu dancing. Dylan placed a hand on my waist and took my hand in his, to sway me gently to the subdued music.

  Someone turned the volume up slightly as Matt and Chrissie joined us, followed by Ryan and Kelly. Not to be left out, Margaret grabbed a waiter and dragged him over for a dance.

  “Do you think the restaurant always has so many cameras?” Dylan asked me quietly. I was taken aback by his words, and followed his gaze to cameras, which were concealed by plants, at the top of several pillars.

  “Some restaurants have security cameras, don’t they?” I reasoned. “They probably aren’t even switched on.”

  “They’re only in this section, around our table.”

  “There’s one over there by the door too,” I told him, scanning the room.

  “That’s a standard security camera. That one belongs to the restaurant. These ones are different.”

  “So?” I asked, suddenly not caring. “We agreed to go on a TV show. Cameras shouldn’t be a surprise.”

  “But why are they hiding them?” he asked. “Why have cameramen and hidden cameras?” He raised his eyebrows at me and I shrugged in response. “So we don’t look for hidden cameras,” he suggested. “So we think we’re not being watched all the time.”

  “We agreed to be on a TV show,” I reminded him again. “We knew we’d be filmed. Why are you worrying about it so much?” I was annoyed with him for trying to dampen my spirits and ruin our last night.

  “Because we leave tomorrow and I’m wondering what kind of a show it is,” he told me. “I think there’s something going on that we have no idea about. I don’t trust them.”

  “I don’t care,” I told him, pulling my hand from his and standing still. “It doesn’t really matter now, does it? Like you said, we leave tomorrow. It’s too late to worry about it.”

  “My turn!” Matt stepped in and pulled me into his arms while Chrissie went to dance with Dylan. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I told him, pushing the conversation with Dylan from my mind. “I don’t think I want to go home, though.”

  “Me neither.” He lifted his arm to twirl me under it. I grinned at him while he spun me around the dance floor. The locals gradually got up to join us, and the atmosphere was light-hearted as we swapped partners frequently to dance the night away.

  Taking a break from the dancing, I headed back to the table, becoming irrationally annoyed when I looked at Adam and once again got no response. He stared straight past me as though he couldn’t even see me. I sat with my back to him and watched the dancing.

  A moment later I saw him walk slowly towards the dancers, place his camera on a table and look through the viewfinder to make sure it was in position.

  “It doesn’t really seem fair that everyone else got to dance with you and I only got to watch,” he told me, offering his good hand. I let him lead me to the edge of the restaurant, away from everyone.

  “How’s the hand?” I asked.

  “It hurts!” he confessed, holding it up to show me the bandage before returning it to rest on my lower back.

  “I can’t believe Matt did that.”

  “I think he feels pretty bad about it,” Adam said.

  “Are we out of camera shot here?” I asked, changing the subject and looking up at the small black cameras balanced above our table.

  He looked nervous when he nodded. “I hope so.”

  I eyed him seriously. “I convinced myself that this would never be aired because that’s what I wanted to believe. I can’t think of anything worse than being recognised in the street, but even if we do end up having five minutes of fame, it was all worth it.”

  When he didn’t say anything I briefly thought of telling him about Dylan’s suspicions and asking what he knew. I hesitated, not wanting to ruin the moment.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he said, breaking the silence.

  “Which part of yesterday?” I asked playfully.

  “Well, not the cupboard, obviously! I’m sorry you were upset when I came into your room.”

  “It’s fine,” I told him. “I was just a bit emotional.”

  “It’s really annoying that I can’t talk to you properly. It’s all been a bit crazy, hasn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” I laughed.

  “Can I see you again?”

  “Huh?” I moved back to look at his face.

  “Will you go out with me when we’re home?”

  “Like a date?” I asked, my heart racing.

  “Yes.” He grinned. “Exactly like a date.”

  “Yeah,” I told him, and moved closer to him again, resting my head on his shoulder and breathing in his scent. I listened to the waves breaking against the rocks and swayed to the music with Adam, wishing I could pause the moment and stay in it forever.

  Chapter 22

  “The last meal.” Matt looked up from his full English breakfast when Chrissie and I joined him outside. “Annoyingly, I seem to have lost my appetite,” he told us.

  “Really?” Ryan asked eagerly.

  “Go for it.” Matt slid the plate over to Ryan, snatching a sausage from it before relinquishing it.

  “I can’t believe it’s all over,” Ryan commented while he shoved bacon and eggs into his mouth. I pushed my plate away and leaned back. My appetite had disappeared too.

  “Could we just refuse to leave?” Chrissie said.

  “I’d love to,” I told her, moving to make space for Kelly and Margaret.

  I’d had a strange feeling since Dylan had told me his fears the previous evening. I’d been paranoid and even found myself searching for hidden cameras. My worry about the tiny bikinis was fairly ironic if there were cameras in the shower. I didn’t find anything but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. I hadn’t mentioned the cameras in the restaurant to Chrissie – or anyone else. I’m not sure why. I think I just didn’t want us to spend our last evening speculating about hidden cameras and whether or not we’d end up on TV.

  “I’d stay here with you guys forever,” Kelly announced. “You’re my new family. I love you all!”

  “Oh my God! Stop it,” Matt told her. “I’m struggling to keep it together as it is.” He put his arm around Chrissie and she snuggled into him.

  “I’m even going to miss you,” Dylan told us, perching on the arm of the couch next to Chrissie.

  �
�Well, that’s tipped me over the edge!” Matt’s face crumpled into a look of mock grief. He pushed Chrissie away and patted the space next to him in an invitation for Dylan. “Come on …” Matt coaxed him.

  “My boys!” Matt laughed putting an arm around Ryan and Dylan and pulling them to him, giving them each a big kiss on the cheek.

  “Get off, you clown!” Dylan laughed at him. “How about one last beer from the magic fridge?”

  “We’re just about to leave and you finally have a great idea,” Matt teased.

  “It’s nine o’clock in the morning,” I called after them.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll get one for you too,” Matt shouted back.

  “It’s far too early,” I complained but took a swig from the beer bottle Dylan had given me anyway. They’d passed them out to everyone, cameramen included. Only Carl and Adam had accepted. The other cameramen hadn’t even reacted to the offer.

  “Someone should propose a toast,” Kelly suggested.

  “Okay!” Matt volunteered, raising his bottle. “Here’s to magic beer fridges, free holidays and …” He paused and took a dramatic deep breath before continuing. “To the most awesome people you could ever hope to find in the street on a Friday afternoon, with nothing better to do than jet off to Spain with a bunch of strangers!”

  I returned Adam’s smile when he raised his beer with the rest of us, and took a long drink. It was all getting far too emotional for me, and I slipped inside the house in search of Maria. I wanted to say goodbye to her. I found myself alone while I wandered through the house, and shouted for Maria when I reached the top of her staircase.

  When there was no reply, I ran down the stairs and into the dimly lit hallway below. This time no one blocked my path and I pushed open the door nearest to me.

  It was Chrissie I saw first. There she was, walking beside the pool, head thrown back in laughter – except she was here, in this room, on a computer screen. There were so many screens! Another showed Matt, the camera zooming in while he tipped his beer bottle to his lips, smiling at something Kelly was saying.

  Every room in the house was covered: the kitchen, our bedrooms, the bathrooms, everything!

  My stomach lurched and I felt shaky as the reality of it all set in. It was one thing to think the house might be rigged with cameras, but another thing to see it like this.

  “You’re not really a catering assistant, are you?” I asked quietly. The two guys sitting in the room, focusing on the screens, swivelled round in their chairs. The larger of them was the one who’d stopped me when I’d tried to come in here before.

  “I already told you – you’re not allowed down here,” he told me gruffly. They turned back to continue what they were doing and my eyes roamed the room, trying to take everything in. This must be what Ryan had found!

  “You should leave now,” the smaller guy told me impatiently.

  Shocked and dazed, I managed to get my legs moving and made my way back upstairs. Adam was in the kitchen. He sounded concerned when he asked if I was okay, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I walked past him and through the house.

  My head spun and I struggled to process it all. I couldn’t believe Ryan had seen all this and not told us! Actually, maybe I wasn’t so surprised by Ryan; he was childish and mostly just interested in having a good time. Adam, on the other hand, should have warned me. I swung around in the dining room to find him behind me, looking sheepish.

  “I think you can get rid of that now, can’t you?” I snapped, swiping at the camera. He lowered it and took a step away from me, tilting his head to one side as words formed on his lips.

  “You should have told me!” I shouted before he could say anything. “You knew and you didn’t say anything.”

  He moved towards me, sighing. “I couldn’t. I wasn’t allowed t—”

  “Yes, you could! You had plenty of opportunity to tell me. I presume there aren’t any cameras in that cupboard downstairs! You could have told me then. Or last night!”

  Adam’s gaze drifted over my shoulder and I turned to see everyone watching my outburst.

  Matt stepped forward. “What’s going on?”

  “There are cameras everywhere!”

  “Yeah,” he said slowly, glancing at Carl and Adam, then looking back at me like I was crazy.

  “Not them! There’s more. They’re everywhere!” I glanced around, wondering where they were. Hidden among all the random ornaments and decorations, no doubt.

  Chrissie moved towards me. “Are you okay?”

  “There’s some sort of control room downstairs,” I explained. “You can see the whole house on computer screens: they zoom in and change the camera angles. They’ve filmed everything … bathrooms, bedrooms, everywhere! They were watching us all the time.”

  “Oh my God!” Chrissie gasped. “Are you serious?”

  “Ryan saw it too,” I told them. He was hanging around at the back of the group and avoided my gaze when I glared at him. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

  “Maybe …” His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t want to tell you and spoil all the fun!” His weak smile made him look pathetic as he tried to explain himself. “Plus they took me off for that so-called interview and swore me to secrecy. I didn’t want to ruin the TV show.” His voice went all squeaky as he looked at us nervously. “It’s not such a big deal, is it?”

  “So we might actually get on TV, then?” Kelly said, sounding excited. “We might be famous?”

  Nobody answered her. We were lost in our own thoughts, trying to comprehend what it all meant. We’d been tricked. Chelsea’s heels clicked on the stone floor when she walked in to stand among us. Her voice cut through the tense atmosphere.

  “Sorry to break up the party, kids, but it’s time to go home!”

  Part 2

  Chapter 23

  The mood was sombre when we made our way through Manchester Airport. We’d spent much of the journey home discussing the hidden cameras. We talked in circles until we finally concluded there was nothing we could do; it had already been done. We just had to wait and see what would happen next. Jessica had avoided commenting, saying there’d be time to ask questions once we were back in the UK.

  Despite the hidden cameras, I still felt sad the week was over. A week ago, I was worried about what I was getting myself into – and now I was panicking about going back to my life. I glanced at Matt and Chrissie beside me and felt my eyes fill with tears. I didn’t want to go home. It was like we were in a little bubble while we were away, and I didn’t want to leave it.

  We were ushered straight outside the airport, having been informed that our bags would be collected for us and delivered to our homes. Checking where the cameras were – where Adam was – had become an unconscious action. When I glanced around, I felt panic rise when I realised there were no longer any cameras on us. The cameramen had all vanished. I tried to think of where I last saw Adam, as though that might help. I’d caught his eye when we exited the plane but had looked away, irritated. I’d not seen him since. As I lingered on the kerb, my eyes darted in all directions, but there was no sign of Adam – or any cameras.

  I was still looking around for him when I climbed into the waiting minibus. Jessica embarked with us, informing us that we had one stop to make before we went home. I had no idea where we were going – and I didn’t care. I was happy to drag things out for as long as possible. I wasn’t looking forward to the goodbyes.

  Adam played on my mind. He’d said he wanted to see me again, but then I’d been angry with him. The anger was receding quickly now that I didn’t know if I’d see him again. He’d just been doing his job, after all. We hadn’t said even goodbye. The tightening in my chest was a sign that I couldn’t let myself dwell on it for too long. What would be, would be.

  We pulled up outside an office block, then followed Jessica through the deserted corridors and into a large conference room. She instructed us to take a seat at an oval table, and paced the room as she addressed us
.

  “As I think you already know, the house in Spain was rigged with hidden cameras to capture your every move at all times of day and night. What you don’t know is that the footage we captured over the last week has already been aired.” She paused, letting her words sink in, a hint of a smile on her lips. “You were broadcast to the nation every evening on RDT1 – a prime-time slot – and the response has been overwhelming. You caused quite a stir and viewing figures have been tremendous.”

  When she paused again, Dylan jumped in. “You can’t do that! You can’t put us on TV without permission.”

  She shook her head – in sympathy or amusement? Perhaps a bit of both. A nod at her assistant sent him hurrying around, handing us each a printed document. I recognised it as the contract we’d signed before we flew out to Spain.

  “We had your permission,” Jessica told us. “The document you signed before you left was drawn up by a team of top lawyers. We definitely had your permission.”

  “But you said we probably wouldn’t even be on TV,” Chrissie chimed in. “And if we were, it would be on some weird channel in the middle of the night.”

  “I said probably, possibly, maybe …” Jessica looked bored, sighing as though she were losing patience. “It was all written down in front of you – if you’d read the contract before you signed it.”

  I flicked through the pages as I attempted to take everything in. I’d definitely been led to believe that they were filming to see if this was a viable concept, and told that the footage may be shown at some point in the future. I’d had no idea that it would be aired immediately.

  “I would advise you to familiarise yourself with the document in hand,” Jessica said. “You’ll notice that the contract forbids you from making any public comment about your experience for the next three weeks, at which time you are required to attend a live show.”

  She paused and my heart sank as I began to digest what she’d told us – though I should really have been expecting it. I knew the house was filled with cameras. I’d seen it for myself down in that basement room filled with screens. If they’d gone to that much trouble, it made sense that they would actually air the footage: that it would be a big deal.

 

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