The Hating Game (14 page)

C
HAPTER TWELVE

One in fifty high-school sweethearts get married.

Of
those marriages, half end in divorce.

‘
CIAO BELLA! HOW YOU LIKIN’
les extensions
?’ Fabio breathed oniony fumes all over Mattie as he played with her curls.

She
shook her head and shifted in the chair, barely able to move in the tight jeans the wardrobe department had so
thoughtfully
provided. It was the morning of her date with Charlie and she was back in the studio for hair and make-up. Her head pounded after last night’s post-show drinking session with Jess, which was why she couldn’t be bothered telling Fabio
les extensions
was French, not Italian; and that he was a fool.

Mattie closed her eyes.
After having drunk herself to sleep, the faces of her exes had drifted through her dreams – and one ex in particular featured repeatedly. Although Jess insisted Kyle wouldn’t go on a show like
The Hating Game
, Mattie wasn’t so sure. It was good PR, and Kyle had never been one to miss a trick when it came to business. Mattie had admired that about him – until he stole all her clients.

She’d barely had time to drag
herself from bed and get showered before the car arrived to whisk her to the studio to get ready for the big date. She snorted. Big date, as if! There was hardly a second chance for romance with a gay guy! Charlie probably planned an outing to a tranny club in Soho or a day trip to Brighton.

‘
Al
l right, Mattie?’

Mattie looked up
. ‘Ah, Tweedledee and Tweedledum.’ Nate and Baz were standing there looking like booby prizes at a speed dating session for halfwits. If she
was
in the mood for something today, it was bringing them down a notch or two for springing those exes on her.

‘
Nice hair,
did you get caught in a wind tunnel?’ she asked Nate, watching as he flushed and tried to straighten his wilted curls into the spiky hairdo Baz sported. Why someone would actually
want
hair that looked that way was beyond her.

‘
So
, you ready?’ Baz asked, eying her top’s plunging neckline then looking down at his clipboard. ‘Nate and a cameraman will go with you to the location. We’ll film you meeting Charlie there.’

‘
No, I’m not ready.’ Mattie stood u
p, shaking off Cyndi’s mascara wand. She swivelled to face Nate and Baz, noting with satisfaction how Nate jumped back as though she might bite. Which, given the mood she was in, was a definite possibility.

She took a step closer. ‘I think you two should do the date – more up your streets, if that hair is anything to go by.’

‘
And a
fterwards we’ll go back to the studio to film you choosing the guy for your next date.’ Baz carried on as if she hadn’t even spoken. And
nothing
pissed her off like men ignoring her.

‘
Let’s get something straight here, Spaz,’ she said, feeling her ringlets bounce as she spoke. ‘When I signed up to this thing, I had a pretty good idea it wasn’t just a normal dating show. I thought those men might be my exes. So your little surprise stunt last night didn’t fool me at all.’ She was bluffing but she had to make them believe they hadn’t pulled one over on her.

Baz smirked
and she wanted to punch him. ‘Oh, good. We’re happy you’re happy, right Nate?’ he sneered. Nate nodded his head. ‘Now, let’s get this segment underway, shall we?’

H
ad all that gel clogged his eardrums? Mattie squinted, anger clouding her vision – not that she really wanted to see Baz, anyway. ‘But what I don’t need is two brain-dead idiots trying to push me around.’ She spun away from them and tossed back her curls. ‘In fact, I don’t need this show at all. Find another
sexy single lady
.’ Ha! That should terrify the duo into compliance. They’d never pull her from the show at this point.

In the mirror, she could see Nate shooting Baz a worried look. But Baz just strolled over
to where she was standing, hands in his pockets. ‘No worries, Mattie, no worries,’ he drawled, rocking back and forth. ‘If you don’t want to do the show, we’ve got someone else lined up.’

Mattie turned towards him, a small thread of fear weaving its way into her anger. ‘Oh, yeah?’ She stared, trying to read his mind. They couldn’t really have a backup, could they?

Baz nodded. ‘Yeah.’
A woman Mattie hadn’t seen before walked by the open door and Baz nodded in her direction. ‘Actually, that’s her.’

‘
Sure, Baz. Sure. Whatever.’ Mattie rolled her eyes to pretend she didn’t believe a word of it, but . . . what if they
did
have someone else stashed backstage? Could she really risk losing the prize money? Red pound signs flashed before her eyes as she totted up all her debt.

Signing inwardly, Mattie
strode out the dressing-room door, the TweedleDuo scrambling after her. She’d do the show because she had to, but she wasn’t going to roll over and play the brainless bimbo. They wanted a ball buster, and they had one.

‘
What are you waiting for?’ she barked over her shoulder, trying not the picture their triumphant expressions. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

Half an hour later, Mattie and Nate were i
n a black limo heading to whatever godforsaken site the date was to take place. A squat cameraman – who, with his grimy baseball cap, nicotine-stained fingers and gold chains, seemed better suited to the role of mafia hitman than TV operative – climbed in beside them.

‘
The name’s Ram,’ he said, offering his collection of
ragged fingernails to Mattie to shake.

Mattie ignored him and turned towards the window. The less she had to do with anyone else on this production team, the better.

‘
Um, Mattie?’ Nate’s voice interrupted her thought
s. ‘I need to film you answering some questions about Charlie now.’

‘
Nate, tell me who the other exes
are.’ She fixed her laser glare on him and watched as he squirmed like a bug pinned to a wall. ‘Tell me, or I won’t answer your questions.’

Nate
pushed up his spectacles and shook his head. ‘No, no, I can’t. Baz and Silver would kill me if they found out.’

‘
Come on, Nate,’ Mattie said. ‘Grow some balls! It’s not like I’m going to tell
them, is it?’ Jesus, what a wuss.

But Nate just quivered
and held his clipboard against him like a shield. ‘Mattie, I can’t. Please answer the questions. Or we’ll have to stick with the information we have . . .’

The nerve! Was he trying to blackmail her? What
exactly did they know about her and Charlie? ‘Maybe you should run what you have by me first, before I answer any questions. Just to check for accuracy.’ She leaned forward to get a look at the clipboard but she couldn’t see anything around Nate’s massive mound of belly.

‘
Er
, Baz has all that information,’ Nate said, shrinking back against the side of the car. ‘But we do know Charlie’s gay. That must have been quite traumatic for you.’ His bushy brows knit together in a look of faux-sympathy that didn’t quite work, given his flushed, sweaty cheeks.

Mattie raised an eyebrow.
So they
did
know Charlie was gay. Just how many more sordid details had he spilled? The only way to find out was to hear Nate’s queries – and at least she’d be able to give her side of the story.

‘
Fine,’ she snapped. ‘Ask your silly questions. But make it fast.’

Nate nodded to Ram, who
lifted a massive camera and trained it on Mattie. She flinched as a bright light hit her. For once she was grateful for the caked-on make-up.

Nate looked down at his clipboard.
‘Can you tell us what you liked about Charlie when you first met him?’

W
hat a stupid question. As if anyone really chose their secondary school boyfriends for reasons that extended beyond how cool their hair looked or what kind of trendy shoes they wore with their uniform. But if this was going to be on TV, she’d better try to come up with something semi-intelligent. God only knew what Charlie was saying about her.

Mattie smiled at the camera. ‘What an interesting question. Well, what wasn’t there to like about Charlie? He was so giving, so kind.’ That much was true, anyway, she sniggered, remembering his answer the night before. And he
had
always given her little presents here and there, leaving notes in her locker with her favourite crisps: prawn cocktail.

‘
So why did you split
up?’ Nate asked.

Mattie stared into the camera. Didn’t he know? Well, if Nate hadn’t ferreted out all the gory details behind the break up there was no way she was going to give him or Charlie the satisfaction of making herself out to be the baddie. She’d only done what was necessary to protect herself, but with all the political correctness around these days she knew the public might not see it that way.

She shrugged. ‘Oh, you know. I was going off to London
for university and Charlie had other things to pursue.’ Like Kwong, she added silently.

‘
We’re here,’ the driver said through the intercom as the car pulled up in front of a low, red-brick building.

Oh my God, Mattie breathed to herself, trying to keep her expression neutral for the camera only inches from her face. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed where they were driving! It had been years since she’d been here, but the sprawling 1970s-style building looked exactly the same. The sign spelling out
Staines Secondary School
still had the blue splatter from where Danny Llewellyn had shot it with a paint gun when Mattie was in Year Eight.

Nate looked at
his watch then consulted the clipboard again. ‘Right on time. So Mattie, you stay here. We want a shot of you getting out of the car. Then you’ll enter and meet Charlie in the reception area. Just hang tight and we’ll get you sorted out with a mic.’

Mattie nodded, thoughts swirling through her head. Was this Nate’s doing, coming back here, or Charlie’s? For the life of her, Mattie couldn’t figure out why Charlie would
want
to revisit this scene. Surely he couldn’t be upset about the fiasco ten years ago? Well, whatever happened she was determined to come off the better person. Nobody liked an angry gay man.

Ram finally swung the camera away from her and got a small wireless mic out of his
camera bag. He handed it to her. ‘Put this on. You can clip the battery pack above your arse and put the cord up under your shirt. Need any help, just ask.’ He winked.

‘
Back off
!’ Mattie hissed. She didn’t need his beefy hands all over her.

Ram raised both palms
. ‘Don’t you worry, sweetheart. You ain’t me type.’ He got out of the car before Mattie could retort that his type probably had scales.

She threaded the wire under her t
ight top as best she could before attaching the pack to the waistband of her jeans.

Nate knocked on the window. ‘Ready?’

She nodded and took a deep breath. For some stupid reason she felt all shivery and her palms were clammy. Must be because I haven’t eaten anything, she told herself as she climbed out of the car, conscious of the camera trained on her. She heaved open the metallic blue doors of the school and walked into the reception. God, it even smelled the same: a mixture of body odour, bleach, dust and lemon wax. Charlie was examining the trophy case. He turned, running a hand through floppy hair.

‘
Hi, Mattie,’ he said,
sotto voce
. He fiddled with the collar on his suit, remarkably like the TopMan one he’d been wearing when she caught him sucking face with Kwong. She’d never forget that sight, the back of his head plastered against Kwong’s.

Mattie leaned in and placed a kiss on his cheek for the benefit of the cameras. His cheeks were just as soft as his hands had been.

‘
Excellent choice for our date! So many great memories!’ she trilled, watching him closely to see how he reacted to her words.

A flicker of anger showed on his face. ‘Yeah. Great memories.’ He started down the hall. ‘Come on, follow me.’

S
o much for polite banter, Mattie thought, trailing behind him down the corridor and through to the gymnasium. One corner had been transformed into a sort of dance studio, with wooden flooring covering the linoleum tiles and mirrors lining the walls.

Mattie turned to Charlie. ‘Dancing? I don’t dance.’ Her mum had never really encouraged it, enrolling her in computer camps while the rest of the girls her age were learning ballet.

Charlie raise
d an eyebrow. ‘I figured a few ballroom dance lessons would be nice.’