Val rolled over on to her hands and knees, crawled towards a clump of ferns and vomited, as quietly as she could. Thanks to her failure at the trial, her dinner that evening had been meagre — just a handful of rice and beans — and now all of it had come back up. Still, she felt better for it. Another few minutes to compose herself, and she might be ready to rejoin the others. The sooner the better, because she needed to talk to Danielle. She had spoken too sharply to her after dinner. Made some comment about her not helping with the washing-up. Val had been in the right, no doubt about that — Danielle was lazy, she never helped out with any of the routine tasks around the camp — but it had sounded snappy, and she didn’t want to upset her: or, of course, to alienate the viewers at home. As soon as she felt better again, she would go and apologize.
Danielle was not in the camp. She was lying with Pete in a clearing, about fifty yards away. They were both flat on their backs, staring up at the stars through the canopy of trees. Danielle’s face, as so often, was without expression. Pete looked bored and restless.
‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,’ said Val.
‘That’s all right,’ he said, sitting up. ‘Did you want a word?’
‘Yes — with Danielle, actually.’
‘No probs,’ he said. ‘I need a dump anyway.’
He got up and left. Val squatted down beside Danielle, and said: ‘Hello, lovey. I didn’t break up a romantic moment, did I?’
Danielle inclined her perfect head a few degrees. ‘Don’t worry. No chance of romance with him, as far as I’m concerned. He’s a tosser. We were only doing it because the director keeps telling us to look more romantic with each other.’
Val nodded, not really knowing what to say to this. She was surprised to hear that they had been getting instructions from the ‘director’. She didn’t even know that there was such a person.
‘What did you want anyway?’ Danielle asked.
‘It’s about the washing-up.’
Danielle turned away from her again, and looked blankly up at the sky. ‘Yeah? What about it?’
‘I just came to say … I’m sorry if I was a bit rude to you. You’re not angry, are you?’
‘You didn’t show me much respect in front of the others,’ Danielle said, pouting. ‘I know I’m younger than you, but, you know, I think I deserve to be treated in a certain way …’
‘I was respectful, actually,’ said Val. ‘I mean, I could have said, “Oh, come on, you lazy cow, when are you going to start pulling your weight around here?” Couldn’t I? But I would never talk to you like that.’
‘I suppose …’ said Danielle. She was softening.
‘I mean, we’ve all got to do our bit, that’s all, if we’re going to get through the next couple of weeks. “We’re all in this together,” as our beloved Mr Osborne would say.’
‘Who?’
‘George Osborne. The Chancellor of the Exchequer?’ Danielle’s face showed no comprehension, and Val could not stop herself from laughing. ‘Oh, Danielle, you really are the limit. What planet do you live on? Eh? Don’t you ever read the newspapers?’
‘I don’t have time.’
‘You should make time. Everyone should know what’s going on in the world.’
‘I work hard, you know. I’m in the gym at six thirty every day. And then all day, I’m either on a shoot or in a recording studio.’
‘Recording studio?’
‘Yeah. I’m a singer. That’s what I really want to be. I’m making a record at the moment, but, you know, it takes a long time to get the notes right and everything. I haven’t been trained, or anything like that.’
‘Do you play an instrument?’
‘I can play “Yellow Submarine” on the guitar. You know, the Beatles’ old song.’
Val felt a sudden wave of tenderness towards her. She looked so young; and not just young but lonely, and vulnerable.
‘Bet you miss all that at the moment, don’t you?’
‘I miss everything,’ said Danielle. ‘It’s horrible in here. They keep making me do tasks with Pete and everything because they’ve sold lots of stories to the magazines about our big romance, but we can’t stand each other. I don’t like any of the people in here. They’re all old and boring. I want to go home. I miss my Mom and Dad. I miss my sister. And the one I miss the most — the one I really miss — is Caesar. Our boxer dog.’
‘Oh, I know, love,’ said Val, putting a sympathetic hand to her shoulder. ‘I heard about that. Your Mom told me just before I came in. It’s awful, isn’t it, when a pet dies. I had a cat called Byron, and when he passed away —’
‘What?’ said Danielle, sitting up and staring at her. ‘What are you talking about?’
Val put her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh my God. You didn’t know.’
‘Has something happened to Caesar? What’s happened to him? Tell me!’
After that, Val had no choice but to break the news to her, and, as soon as she heard it, Danielle burst into tears. She sobbed in Val’s arms for a few minutes, and Val dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, which was soon soaked through.
‘Sorry — I’ve spoiled your Kleenex,’ was the first thing Danielle said, when she was able to talk again.
‘Never mind — I’ll go and get some more,’ said Val. She gave what she hoped was a comforting laugh, trying to lighten the mood. ‘There’s plenty more where that came from.’
As she set off on this errand, she threw one glance back, and saw that Danielle was gazing after her, her face not quite as blank as usual. Her baby blue eyes were now limpid pools of sadness, her lovely young face streaked with tears.
*
‘Shit,’ said Alison. ‘SHIT! Mum, you fucking idiot — what are you playing at? What did you go and do that for?’
She sat forward on the sofa, gripping the remote control so tightly that it might have cracked in her hand. Panic seized her; her breathing accelerated rapidly; she was starting to hyperventilate. Not wishing to listen to the show’s closing theme tune, she muted the TV, rose to her feet and began to pace the room, doing her best to slow down her breaths. On the screen, telephone numbers for voting off the different contestants scrolled by silently. Finally Alison paused in front of the television, turned it off, put her head in her hands and said to herself, one more time: ‘Oh Mum, why did you have to do that?’