Annabel, our researcher who’s also been in charge of the logistics and crewing, is waiting for us in Departures. Anxiety pulled tight on her face, phone against her ear, sitting on top of a pile of flight cases containing the gear. She sees us coming, fumbles the phone, then jumps up and hurries over, narrowly avoiding a collision with an elderly woman using a walking frame.
Annabel is sweet and she does her best, that much is obvious. But when it comes to people skills? I’m not convinced.
‘Really bad news!’ she says. ‘Poppy and Zach cancelled.’
Tori touches her temples. ‘Seriously? On the day we leave?’
Annabel explains that two of our contestants, the husband-and-wife duo chosen partly thanks to their USP of having no fewer than ten children, are now battling an outbreak of chickenpox. The idea was that there’s leadership in domestic work, too, that it comes in many forms. I was only present at one of the meetings with the network, but it didn’t take me long to see that Tori fought hard to make the show as representative as it is.
Tori turns to me. ‘What do we do?’
I put my hands up. ‘It’s your show.’
She gives me a pleading look. ‘That co-producer credit’s still on the table?’
‘Nope.’
Annabel flutters beside us, digging in her bag for a folder. ‘I thought maybe they could come later, when they’re better, meet us there? It would only be – what, four, five days? I could get on to the travel people now?’
‘We could edit it together if they’re not there at the start,’ I tell Tori, ‘but can the ship wait that long?’
‘Oh no, it can’t,’ Annabel says, screwing up her eyes. ‘And the visas would need changing. I don’t know if there’s time.’
‘Let’s try to stay calm, all right?’ Tori says, forcing a smile to hide the panic. But then her face changes. ‘Oh God, seven episodes, eight contestants.’
The show is a knock-out format, meaning that we should be down to the last two standing by the final. If we lose these people, we’ve got two forty-eight-minute episodes to fill.
‘Dee, seriously,’ Tori says. ‘Help me out.’
The fact is: I owe her. For sharing her house, for hiring me as director of photography when I couldn’t even get out of bed for the interview. For her inexplicable loyalty.
‘Fine,’ I tell her. ‘Here’s the plan. We go ahead with the six contestants we’ve got. I bulk it out by giving Craig a bigger role.’ Craig is the Arctic guide we’re meeting once we’re there. He hasn’t taken a large group for a while – prefers to spend his time linking green tourism with local environmental work now – but he screen-tested well. Not only that, but he’s a former paramedic, meaning we’re killing two birds with one freelance fee. ‘We build in some one-to-one coaching and character-assessment stuff with all of them, then fudge it by shooting some before material when we’re back home, and cut that in for the first episode. Start the challenges in episode two.’ I count off on my fingers. ‘Final challenge ep six, then seven is a round-up. Shoot them all back at home, see them putting what they’ve learned into practice, that kind of thing.’
Tori gives me a weak smile. ‘Okay. Okay, good. Thanks, co-producer.’
‘Still no.’
A few feet away, a gaggle of fans is trying to get Tori’s attention. ‘One sec,’ she says to us, and goes over to a chorus of excitement.
‘That was amazing,’ Annabel tells me. ‘Did you just come up with all that – like off the top of your head?’
‘Mm-hmm.’ I glance around. ‘Is there time for coffee?’
‘Yes, sorry! Yes, absolutely. One minute.’
‘You don’t have to—’ I start to say, but she’s already off. I wonder what it’s like to be so keen.
I hear my name and look over to see Will dragging Tori’s luggage.
‘This everything?’ I ask.
He nods. ‘Got a buggy coming in a sec. Listen, Dee.’ He slips a bag off his own back, a slim fabric, drawstring thing. After glancing over to see that Tori’s distracted, he hands it to me. ‘Can you pop this in your hand luggage?’
‘Is it weed?’
‘No, it’s not weed, Dee.’
‘Coke?’ I go to open it. ‘I’ve always wanted to be a coke-mule.’
‘Stop it,’ he says, moving my hand away. ‘Don’t open it yet.’
I look at him, suspicious.
Will sighs. ‘Look. We had a very last-minute change of contestant.’
‘I know, the ten-kids couple have flaked out. Annabel already said.’
His mouth drops open. ‘This is a piss-take, right?’
I explain how it’s not, while he drags his hands down his face. ‘But that’s not what you were going to tell me?’
‘No,’ he says, forcing composure. ‘The yoga woman’s gone too.’
I fail in my attempt not to laugh out loud. ‘Right, well, that’s that then. Six contestants, I could work with. Five’s a joke.’
‘No – we’re replacing her. New woman. She’s kind of similar,’ he shrugs. ‘She works for this charity. It’s all about helping pet owners with substance-abuse issues look after their animals. So there’s a lot of counselling and mentoring involved, stuff like that.’
I raise my eyebrows and Will doubles down, folding his arms. ‘What? There’s leadership in there. Like Tori says. We wanted a broad definition.’
‘Kind of tenuous, don’t you think?’ The premise of the show is that everyone competing is some kind of leader, competing to be voted the best in some of the harshest conditions on the planet. Anyone can see it’s a gloss to make it look something more than a rip-off I’m a Celebrity, but it has to at least be consistent.
‘It’s what I could do at short notice,’ he says.
‘I see. She got a name?’
‘Gaia. Strong look, she’ll be great. Tattoos, hair about this long,’ he says, holding his finger and thumb an inch apart. ‘Distinctive. It’s exactly what we needed. Don’t look at me like that.’
‘Just smells like bullshit. I’m sure we could have booked the yoga woman into a salon if it was only about a hairstyle.’
‘It’s done. All right?’ He looks me hard in the eye. ‘Try to be positive about it when you tell Tori.’
I raise my eyebrows. ‘You haven’t told her? Will, you naughty thing. You’re scuttling off and leaving me to do the dirty work? I’d have expected better from you.’
He swallows down a flash of anger – he doesn’t like being mocked, but he knows he needs me onside. ‘Fine. Could you keep it to yourself for a moment, though? I’ll call her once you’re through Security.’
I don’t need to ask why. Their arguments recently have been quite something, and always about the show. We thought we’d had our last change of cast three weeks ago, when Will dropped a perfectly good contestant for someone we hadn’t even screen-tested, Helen Greenaway, apparently for the sheer hell of it. There have been problems with budgets, company credit cards not being set up in time – it’s been a total shambles from day one. Even so, changing the line-up the morning we start shooting, without telling his fiancée, is a new low.
But I stow the bag like a good girl, and tell Will his secret’s safe with me.
One more surely won’t hurt.