We wave them all off and look in bafflement at one another as the remaining six of us make our way back to the firepit. None of us know what is happening.
‘So, who is ready for their romantic date?’ bellows Destiny, emerging suddenly from behind a bush, causing Mimi to scream with fright.
The warm breeze lifts Destiny’s fringe, like the flaps on a Boeing 747, to give us a rare glimpse of what lies beneath. She is looking wild-eyed and positively coked up to the eyeballs. It is very clear that we’d all forgotten she was still here, and that we will be required to do more filming. My soul droops at the thought of going on a date. Henri looks over at me with an almost apologetic smile and shrugs his shoulders.
‘Are the four Islanders who just left really out out or will they be coming back in in?’ I ask Destiny, who looks expressionlessly back with a nonchalant shrug.
‘Firepit!’ Porscha yells.
We gather round the firepit so that Destiny can bring some energy to our flat and demoralised demeanour. ‘Islanders. You three couples will be happy to know that your dates will be voted on by the public.’
This is news to us.
‘And the couple voted to have the most chemistry during the date will spend a saucy night in the Romantic Hideaway. YAAAS!’ Destiny yells, encouraging us to get excited and start waving our arms around as we sit there.
My mind switches instantly to panic mode while the cheering goes on around me. This is the same Romantic Hideaway that Cam showed me on the virtual tour. The room with walls and floor covered in fur for maximum comfort, whichever way you choose to have sex, upside down or back to front. The room with the love swing hanging from the ceiling and the suggestiveobjets d’artplaced on the bubble-gum-pink shelves. The room with the sex toy cupboard where Cam hid a massive blue rubber vibrator with flat batteries because he was too busy having fun with me, and forgot to replace them.
Right, I have a game plan. And the game plan is to have the worst date humanly possible, resulting in the fewest public votes.
Henri turns to look at me with his shyly confident smile and whispers, ‘Zee French make zee best lovairs. I will make sure we win.’ He taps the side of his nose.
Not on my watch we won’t. He seems to have made a remarkable recovery from his emotional goodbye with Kassy a mere few minutes ago.
We are glued to Destiny as she reveals what type of date we are going on. ‘We asked the public what type of dinner date they wanted to send you all on. They had to choose between a romantic three-course candlelit dinner al fresco on the beach…’
We all cheer.
‘Or a romantic picnic by torchlight in the wild beating heart of the Yucatán jungle…’
We let out a less enthusiastic cheer.
‘Or a romantic time potholing down a nearby haunted mineshaft with a packed lunch and a bag of crisps.’
Silence. And plenty of it.
‘And the public voted for…’ She touches her earpiece and proceeds to stand, staring into space for a count of ten seconds, rather like a robot powering down.
We are all quite spooked when she jerks back to life and reveals where we are going.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, we are dragging ourselves back to the main villa. Morale is at an all-time low.
‘The public must really hate you,’ says Mimi, giving me a sympathetic look.
‘Or they hate all of us,’ I say, trying to counter the argument. ‘What makes you think it’s just me?’
She stops to put a hand on her hip, tilting her head. ‘Purleese, girl. You’ve done nothing but get people dumped from the villa since you got here and you’ve, like, stolen every man you can get your hands on.’
‘Not true,’ I say. ‘Besides, the public might be genuinely interested in Mayan industrial history.’
‘At least we won’t get eaten by tigers,’ says Amber, trying to look on the bright side. ‘I’m not sure I could cope in the jungle when it’s dark. I hate the dark so much.’
The thought of my recent trek into the jungle with Cam makes me smile. ‘Wrong continent. Right terrain,’ I say, almost to myself. ‘Although, I’m fairly certain it will be even darker down the pothole.’
Amber bursts into tears. ‘I can’t do this. I’m off to the Beach Hut to tell the world about my darkness phobia.’
Mimi tuts. ‘How convenient. I have a fear of rope, but do you hear me bleating on about it?’