Take Two (A psychological thriller)

‘I’m looking forward to it,’ said Carolyn.  Day gave Phillippa a bear hug and then sat down, facing the stage. Carolyn sat next to him. Seb was sitting next to a pneumatic blonde model with vacant eyes, one of half a dozen that he used whenever he needed to prove to the world that he was a red-blooded heterosexual male. Carolyn had met her before but couldn’t quite remember her name – Mandy, or Sandy, or Candy or something similar. She had red-painted fingernails that were at least an inch long and lips that had clearly been pumped full of collagen. Andrea was sitting next to her long-time boyfriend, Charlie Russell, a good-looking Scot who managed his family’s multi-million pound trust.  He was devoted to Andrea and always had a lop-sided grin on his face when he was around her.

They were joined by three more actors from the show – Fatima Dowling, Mo Julyan and Barry Hinton – as the ballroom began to fill up.  Across the room, Carolyn saw the network executives take their places. Day waved over at Sally Westlake, the head of drama, and she blew him a kiss.

‘So where’s Eddie?’ asked Phillippa.

‘It’s not his thing,’ said Carolyn. She didn’t want it generally known that the relationship was in trouble. In fact, in her heart of hearts she hoped he would call her and apologise because the one thing she wanted most in the world just then was to have him back in her life.  She missed him. She missed him a lot. And while the pain of his infidelity still burned, she was starting to feel she was partly to blame. She had been working stupidly-long hours for several months and hadn’t spent enough time with him.  A waiter appeared and began pouring champagne. ‘Besides, with Eddie here I’d have to watch how much I drink.’ She waved at the waiter and mouthed ‘red wine.’  He nodded.

The head writer on the show, Zach Atkins, arrived in a white jacket and a black Mickey Mouse bow-tie. With him were two more writers – both earnest young men in their late twenties. They sat together next to Phillippa. Carolyn smiled over at Zach and he smiled back, but he looked away quickly and was soon deep in conversation with the director.

The room filled up over the next twenty minutes and then the meal was served. The food was excellent, way above what was normally served at an award ceremony, brought to the table by fit young men who looked as if they had just walked out of a fashion magazine.  The starter was baked scallops, the main course was an apple and cranberry stuffed pork roast and the dessert was vanilla cheesecake with Scottish raspberries. There was a vegetarian option but as Carolyn was an enthusiastic meat-eater she didn’t even look at it. It turned out that alcohol had to be paid for but Day made sure plenty of wine ended up on their table.

When the coffee arrived, the lights dimmed and Ricky Gervais and Dawn French walked out to thunderous applause. The next hour was spent with the two presenters bantering back and forth and a succession of actors, writers and directors making their way up to the stage to be presented with a gold statuette. Gold coloured, anyway.  Carolyn had two Soap Digest Best Actress awards in her downstairs bathroom and the gold had long worn away even though the cleaner only dusted them twice a week.

The first award was for Sexiest Female, won by a Hollyoaks actress, and a young hunk on Emmerdale won the award for Sexiest Male.  Two photographers snapped away while four camera teams moved around the audience, shooting reaction shots.  Carolyn, like the rest of the actors, smiled professionally when there was even a chance they would be caught on film.

‘What is he, twelve?” asked Seb, nodding at the Emmerdale actor, who was posing next to Dawn French as the photographers snapped away.

‘He’s fit,’ said Carolyn.

‘He’s a male model, not an actor,’ sneered Seb.

‘You’re just upset because he’s not gay,’ whispered Carolyn.

‘Bitch,’ said Seb.

‘And he didn’t get his award for his acting, he got it for his chiseled good looks and six-pack abs.’

The next award was for Best Scripted Reality Show. Carolyn looked over at Day. ‘What?’

The producer shrugged. ‘It’s the new big thing, darling.’

‘So now we’re doing away with sets and studios?  Why don’t we just film in our own homes?  They’re not bloody actors, Paul.’

‘You’re preaching to the converted, darling,’ said Day, leaning over to refill her glass.

The comedian read out the list of contenders, adding – ‘These are my favourite shows on TV. Fit birds, am I right?’

The table where The Only Way Is Essex actors were sitting went wild, shouting and cheering.  They were followed a few seconds later by whooping from the Made In Chelsea table.

The comedian opened the envelope and expressed mock surprise. ‘I love these guys,’ he said. ‘And I’m not saying that because I’m from Essex. Because I’m not.’

The TOWIE table went crazy and a chair was tipped over as one of the actresses stood up and waved a bottle of champagne over her head.

‘Nice,’ said Carolyn.