The Hating Game (16 page)

MATTIE
CLOSED HER EYES as the car dodged traffic on the M4 back towards London. If she had her way, she’d never return to Staines again. Everything there reminded her of her father – of their life together, of him leaving, of having to move out of their family house and into a small studio flat under the pitying gaze of their neighbours.

It was probably
the last time Charlie would go back, too, she thought wryly. She still couldn’t believe the whole thing had been engineered by Nate and Baz – she hadn’t thought them anywhere near clever enough. Suddenly a thought entered her head. What if the next ex
was
Kyle? What horrors would they try to pull then?

‘
We’re here, M
iss.’ The car stopped in front of the TV studios.

‘
Okay
.’ She sighed and tugged up her low-cut top. ‘Mattie Johns,’ she said tiredly to the receptionist inside.

‘
Oh yeah!’ The
blonde behind the desk chomped her gum. ‘You’re that one on the new show, innit? The one with the exes! Ha ha, if I met up with any of my exes, I’d stick ‘em with a knife or somethink. Stay strong, girl!’

‘
Um, thanks. I will.’

The girl checked her computer
. ‘You’re to go over to Studio Two. Can’t wait to watch you tonight, girlfriend! Good luck!’

That was different
, Mattie thought as she followed the signs through the labyrinth of corridors. Usually, women shied away from her rather than support her – something Mattie had always chalked up to her strong personality. It was kind of nice to have another woman on side.

She entered the studio from the back, looking down over the rows of stadium seating towards the lowered stage at the front. This studio was much smaller than the one they’d held the live show in the night before – was it only last night? – and devoid of the audience and bright lights there was something a bit creepy about it.

On
stage the same metal pods glistened, but only three this time. She crept down the stairs, curious to see what they looked like inside. Walking on her tiptoes to avoid the annoying clack of her stilettos, she crossed the stage and heaved open the door of the first pod.

Jesus, she’d hate to be confined in there for any length of time.
A folding chair took up most of the space and the walls were padded with cheap imitation black velvet. She sagged into the seat and pulled the door semi-closed. It was stuffy and dim, a cross between an airplane toilet and prison cell.

‘
Everyth
ing ready for tonight?’ A woman’s sharp voice pierced the silence of the studio.

Mattie held her breath and nudged the door open a fraction of an inch more so she could hear better.

‘
Yes, it’s all set. Seamus is in make-up and Mattie should be here any minute now. The driver said he just dropped her off.’ Nate sounded even more timid than usual.

‘
And the men are here?’ Mattie’s ears cocked at the sound of the men.

‘
They’re all out back, ready to get into the pods. All except Charlie, of course.’ Mattie could hear the note of pride in Nate’s voice. She still couldn’t believe the idiots had pushed Charlie out.

‘
Baz
briefed you on the storylines he’s worked up for the remainder of the dates, didn’t he?’ The woman’s voice was like ice.

Mattie heard
Nate gulp. ‘Of course.’

‘
Remember, we need excitement, conflict. I don’t give a fuck what you do to get it. We just can’t afford to have the ratings drop.’ Her voice grew fainter as they strode off the stage.

Mattie poked her head out to make sure they were gone then scurried from the pod and onto the stage. Was that the woman behind this whole thing? She sounded scarier than Mum, and that was saying something. Mattie swallowed. She could deal with Tweedledee and Tweedledum, but that woman would definitely be a more difficult adversary. Just how far would she go to get ratings?

‘
Oh, there you are!’ Nate appeared from the wings again.
‘Let me take you to the green room and run you through the rest of the day.’ Mattie followed him backstage through another maze of narrow hallways to a small room with scattered sofas and chairs. She plunked down on a chair. Nate squeezed into one facing her.

‘
So
, in this segment, you choose your date for tomorrow,’ he said.

‘
You’ve told me that a zillion times,’ Mattie snapped. She felt so tired.

‘
Here’s what will happen
.’ Nate tried to shift in the chair but the armrests dug into his sides, moving the chair with him. ‘Seamus will introduce you, and you’ll come onstage. Then, you can ask the men one question – the same question for each ex. This allows the audience to compare and contrast your past dating choices, as well as try to identify any dating patterns. Cool, huh?’ Nate puffed out his chest proudly, as if he’d just discovered the cure for cancer.

Mattie shook her head. What kind of idiot audience
cared about her dating patterns? As if she even had any . . . unless you considered dating loser after loser a pattern. More like an inevitable consequence of being heterosexual.

Nate handed her a stack of cards. ‘Here. Choose one of these. Please don’t change the questions this time.’ He gave her a stern look and Mattie sniggered. Like she was going to listen to him! And now that she knew those men were her exes . . . watch out!

‘
You’ll choose your date
for tomorrow, then Seamus will close out the show. It’s not live, so we might retake things a few times.’

‘
Great.’ Mattie gritted her teeth. She just wanted this to be over.

Mattie stared at the w
all, trying to think of a question that would tell her exactly who these men were. One of them had a foreign-sounding voice but that didn’t exactly narrow it down – she’d dated loads of men from Italians to Lebanese. No one could say she discriminated, she thought, plucking at a loose thread on the sofa.

What if one of the men was Kyle? What could she ask that might reveal it was him?
Did you ever love me?
Mattie shook her head to dislodge the thought. What a stupid question – and anyway, the answer was pretty bloody clear. Kyle had
told
her he loved her, but if you loved someone, you didn’t go off and cheat, then steal their business. No, that question wouldn’t separate him from the others.

What was one
thing he knew about her no one else did? He knew about her prawn cocktail crisp addiction, something she generally tried to keep hidden (over-consumption of prawn cocktail crisps was hardly an activity a hard-hitting businesswoman should indulge in). He knew she hated oysters – like eating mucous, she’d told him on numerous occasions. And he knew she sometimes snored when she was really tired, that she loved sleeping with his arm curled around her side . . . and that sometimes, in the middle of the night, she’d wake up sweaty and shaky from bad dreams. Mattie’s cheeks flushed at just how much he did know about her.

Did she really want to ask a question that would give
away something so personal to the audience
and
show Kyle she was wondering if he was there? Even if he wasn’t, he’d probably be watching the whole thing on TV with glee. She shifted through the boring questions on the cards. Probably better to stick with one of these for now.

‘
We’re ready for you.’ Headset waved her from the green room. Mattie stood and followed her into the wings. Onstage, she could see Seamus gripping the podium as if it was the last bottle of gin on Earth.

‘
Let’s say hello to our luscious single lady, Mattie Johns!’ Seamus slurred, nearly falling over as he waved his arms in her direction.

Mattie waited a moment
, sure they would do a retake. But Headset gave her a push onto the stage and Mattie went flying forward, almost landing on Seamus’s lap. Grimacing, she settled onto the stool near the podium, trying not to look at the pods. The studio was eerily quiet without the live audience.

Seamus
leaned in close to her and nearly knocked Mattie out with the sweet smell of gin. His suit was shot through with some kind of hideous thread so that every time he moved it looked like sparks were coming off of him. It hurt her eyes. ‘So, Mattie. An interesting date with Charlie, yes? Now it’s time to choose tomorrow’s lucky fellow.’ He pronounced the last two words ‘feel-low’ and Mattie couldn’t have agreed more.

Mattie smiled. ‘Yes, I can’t wait.’
The less said about her last date with Charlie, the better.

But Seamus had other ideas. ‘Did you know Charlie was
gay
?’ He spit the word out, covering Mattie in a drizzle of saliva.

Mattie res
isted the urge to wipe her face and/or throw up. ‘Well, I suspected, but I wasn’t sure.’ No way was she going into all the details of her prom disaster on national television.

‘
Ho
w humiliating for you, my poor single lady.’ Seamus patted her shoulder and Mattie tried not to grimace. ‘Dating is tough, isn’t it? So hard to make good choices!’

Mattie nodded along. At least she wasn’t coming off as the baddie
.
Playing the victim was certainly a new role for her.

‘
Let’s see if you have better luck next time around!’ Seamus said. He leaned down and the overpowering odour of alcohol nearly made her faint. ‘Who are the men in those pods, Mattie Johns? Is it someone you chucked, here for vengeance? Or the love of your life, back to try again?’

‘
I don’t know
,’ Mattie said, trying to smile as best she could with her teeth clamped together. If only she
did
know just who those men were!

‘
Well, let’s find out! It’s time to ask our exes one more question. What will it be, Mattie?’

Mattie shuffled through the cards, trying not to think about whether Kyle was one of the men.

She grabbed a
card at random. ‘What do you do to stay in shape?’ Stupid question.

‘
Ex N
umber Two?’ Seamus said. ‘I’ll direct that to you first.’

The lights on the pod started flashing. There was a pause then the
robotic voice said: ‘I do many many exercises.’

Mattie rolled her eyes. Who
was
that? Had she dated a brain-dead cretin at some point? (Well, yes. Quite a number of them.)

‘
Ex Number Three
?’

‘
I do four hours of exercise each d
ay. Two hours of free-weights in the morning, then two hours of cardio each evening. Keeping in shape is extremely important to me.’

Mattie raised her eyebrows. Jesus, four hours a day? What kind of loser had that amount of time on their hands? The guy must be some sort of fanatic. A super-cut fanatic, but still.

‘
Ex Number Four
?’

‘
I like to run.’

Mattie froze. Kyle used to go running. Could that be him? He’d dragged her along with him a few times and although she protested, secretly she loved the empty morning streets before the city awakened. They’d always gone for a big fry-up afterwards. Breakfast had never tasted so good.

Get real,
she told herself. That could be anyone – millions of fitness-obsessed people run. Maybe she should have asked the prawn crisp question after all?

‘
So there you have it. Three men, three answers. Who will it be, Mattie?’
Seamus bent down close to her again. ‘Who will be up next on
The Hating Game
?’ His over-the-top delivery seemed even more ridiculous without the audience reactions.

The real question was:
which social reject was she about to let out of the cage now? Well, she had to date all of them, so what difference did it make?

‘
Number Two, please, Seamus.’ Might as well deal with the brain-dead cretin first. After today’s drama, she could do with an easy ride tomorrow.

‘
Ex Number Two
, come meet Mattie Johns . . . again!’

Mattie pasted a smile on her face as she waited for the simpleton to emerge. Who would it be?

A dark curly head appeared and its owner swung around to face her, offering the same bouquet of poisonous purple flowers Charlie had given her the night before. ‘
Ciao, bella
!’

It was . . . Mattie strained to remember:
was
it Giovanni or Giancarlo? She hadn’t been able to get it straight even when they were together. Right now, all she could recall was meeting him last year when she’d escaped to Italy. She’d packed up Kyle’s things, left his boxes in the stairwell, then took off to the Cinque Terre. She hadn’t even told Jess where she was going or how long she’d be. She just wanted to get away.

Whatever his name
, he’d been the manager of the hotel where she’d stayed. It was
so
clichéd: English woman, alone on holiday, wooed by the foreign man. Despite his tenuous grasp on English – or maybe because of it – she’d let herself just go with it. The fling was a welcome distraction from the hand that tore at her heart every time she thought of Kyle.