There’s No Place Like Home by Jane Lovering EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Jane Lovering
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 2 MB
The rain dripped through the tent roof and plopped disconsolately onto the
nylon beneath. We were all already so wet that nobody paid it any attention,
but we shifted occasionally to keep out of the rapidly forming puddle in the
middle of the groundsheet.
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At last, the girl who’d complained really loudly
during the five-mile walk across the moors and whose make-up was
beginning to come off in patches, leaving her with uneven eyebrows, said, ‘I
thought it would be like Love Island.’
She sounded on the verge of tears. The man sitting next to her patted her
arm briefly. ‘If it’s any consolation,’ he said, ‘I didn’t really read the
description either. I’d envisaged sitting in a comfortable hide somewhere.
With coffee.’
I looked around at the assorted collection of soggy humanity in the tent
with me. We were three women and two men; all of us wearing almost all the
clothes we possessed under the provided ‘waterproofs’, which weren’t, huge
boots covered in mud and expressions ranging from the ‘mildly cheated’ to
‘about to sue’.
‘I wish this so-called celebrity would show up.’ Another man. He’d
turned off his body-cam and microphone, I noticed. We were supposed to
keep them on 24/7, unless asleep or going to the toilet, although there was
very little to choose between this tent and lavatorial activities, when I looked
at it. Damp trousers either way.
‘Then maybe we could get something to eat.’
‘I hope we get Bear Grylls.’ Odd-eyebrow girl produced a mirror and
began repairing her face. Her accent was so sharply upper-class that she
could have used it to cut her way out of the tent. ‘It would be the only thing
that could make this worthwhile.’
‘That and the quarter of a mill we win.’ This was ‘Coffee in a Hide’ Man.
‘Should…’ I began cautiously, and everyone turned to look at me, rainsoaked hair flicking so that the inside of the tent pattered with more water.
‘Should we introduce ourselves? If we’re going to be stuck together in tents
for the next few weeks on these moors, we should at least know the names of
our fellow captives.’ I smiled, trying for a weak joke to lighten the
atmosphere. ‘I’m Izzy, short for Isabel. I’m from York and I saw the ad for
the new reality show and wrote in. I didn’t really care what happened from
there on.’
I looked expectantly at the man to my left, the one who’d turned his
comms off. He gave me a slightly dirty look as though I’d put him on an
unexpected spot, but unless he wanted to be known as Camera-Off Man for
the next month, he didn’t have much of a choice. ‘My name’s McKinley,’ he
muttered. ‘From Glasgow.’ He didn’t tell us what he’d expected from the
chirpy ad, but he did look as though fame and fortune were not his primary
goal.
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