The Hating Game (19 page)

‘
What the hell are you doing? Come on!’ Ram shouted.

Not daring to look in the mirror, Mattie left the small cubicle, toes curling at the feel of cold grimy tiles. She’d need a tetanus shot after this, for sure.

Ram guffawed
at the sight of her. ‘You certainly pulled out all the bells and whistles.’ He hoisted the camera to his shoulder as she jangled her way towards him.

Mat
tie pasted on a smile. Remember, be nice while the camera is rolling, she told herself. The audience was on her side now, no point in losing that advantage.

Inside the larg
e gym it was even cooler. She rubbed her arms as she walked over to the centre of the room, where a boxing-style ring was set up. Its high sides prevented her from seeing what was inside – not that she was eager to find out.

‘
You and Giovanni will have three rounds,’ Nate explained as she and Ram walked over. Giovanni was slowly jogging laps around the perimeter of the room, weari
ng a pair of silk shorts and throwing Rocky-like punches in the air. Idiotic, yes, but Mattie had to concede he had a killer body. ‘Five minutes in the ring, then a five minute break.’

‘
No other rules?’ She
glanced nervously at Giovanni. It was all fun and games, right? Surely he wouldn’t
hurt
her; that wouldn’t make him look very good to the public. Not that Giovanni had the smarts to think strategically – he’d once asked her if the Queen was a man or woman! But if he was here to show off his muscles, well . . . it wasn’t like she could count on Baz or Nate to protect her.

Mattie drew herself up to her full height and tried to remember the defensive moves
Miss Pedlar had demonstrated in secondary school PE. She’d never had to use them – she prided herself in taking care of any situation without so much as raising her voice. A group of chavs once tried to tear her BlackBerry from her hand in Kilburn, but she’d just stared at the four skinny losers, asked them if they were on medication for their skin conditions and told them they’d better hit the gym to bulk up if they ever wanted to get laid. They’d slunk off down the street without a backward glance.

Nate clapped his hands. ‘Let’s get going.’ Giovanni jogged over, sweat glistening on his hardened pecs.
Two giant spotlights flicked onto the ring and the fluorescent lights dimmed so the rest of the place was almost dark. ‘All right, Mattie and Giovanni, into the ring. When I say action, I want you to shake hands and wait for the horn. Then you can start.’

Mattie walked over to t
he raised platform and swung herself up through the ropes. Her bare foot plunged into a layer of slime reaching up to her shins
.
Don’t look down, she told herself as she manoeuvred into the corner of the ring. Don’t even think about what might be in that slime. Whatever it was, it pulled at her feet with each step she took. And – she wrinkled her nose – it smelled terrible; a combination of damp socks and decaying meat. Her stomach roiled with nausea and she tilted her head upwards to gulp in fresh air.

‘
Ready?’ Nate yelled, his voice echoing around the empty space. ‘Action!’

Mattie let go of the ropes and took a tentative step towards the centre, trying to read the expression on Giovanni’
s face as he came towards her. They shook hands quickly and Mattie retreated slowly to the corner, breathing deeply. She’d be fine. She was just cold. Once she got moving she was sure everything would be all right.

BEEP!

The klaxon sounded and the spotlights got even brighter. Mattie could on
ly just make out Giovanni’s silhouette against the blinding light. She raised a hand to cover her eyes, squinting, trying to move towards his shape.

‘
Ouf!’ Giovanni put his arms around her waist and levered her off her feet before slamming her down into the mess below. Mattie spit out the brown goo sliding down her face and slicked back her hair before grabbing Giovanni’s feet and pulling. Before she knew it, he’d toppled over into the mud, too. She grabbed a handful of slop and slung it in his direction. It landed with a satisfying plop on his perfectly tanned face.

She
couldn’t help giggling as Giovanni tried to wipe off the sludge, spreading it even more around his face. She threw another glop. To her surprise, Giovanni smiled back then lobbed a chunk in her direction.

Soon
, they were laughing and sliding around the pit. The klaxon sounded and they retreated to opposite corners, sagging against the ropes, breathless with mirth.

‘
Cut!’ Nate yelled. Mattie looked over at him with surprise. Baz was furiously whispering in his ear, the look on his face anything but pleased. What were those two clowns up to? She ran a tentative foot along the bottom of the slime. Could Kyle be hiding there in scuba gear? After what she’d seen the TweedleDuo do to Charlie, she wouldn’t put anything past them. Or maybe they were just annoyed because she and Giovanni were having fun.

Whoa!
Mattie stole a glance at Giovanni as he wiped his face with a towel. They
were
having fun. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually had a good time with a guy on a date. Usually, she was so concerned with making sure he knew who was boss she couldn’t relax. It’d been different with Kyle. She already
was
his boss. And when they were together, she could just let herself go without worrying.

But this is
n’t a real scenario, she reminded herself. We’re in a mudwrestling ring, for God’s sake. In the boardroom, I’d have him begging for mercy in a heartbeat.

‘
Right, guys, that’s fine for
now. You can come out of there,’ Nate called. The giant spotlights switched off with a pop.

Thank God, Mattie thought, trying not to slip as she stepped out of t
he ring. It’d been fun for a few minutes but she wasn’t about to stick around in the stinky slime for more. She headed for the changing room, fantasising about a lovely hot shower. Now that she wasn’t moving, the gunk on her skin had become hardened and cold. She wrapped her arms around her body to keep warm.

‘
Wait a sec,’ Nate called. ‘Just
give yourself a quick wipe down, and then we’re going to a café. You and Giovanni will make pizza.’

‘
I do not
ta cook,’ Giovanni shouted from where he was still standing in the ring. ‘Cooking is for da ladies. I am not da lady!’

What a c
hauvinistic pig. Mattie smirked as he tried to climb out of the ring but fell back into the mud with a sploshy thud. ‘Doesn’t your father cook?’ she asked, knowing full well he did. Her mind flashed back to the image of Giovanni’s mother screaming at his father that the pasta needed another
minuto stupido!
‘Surely he taught you how to make pizza, at least!’

Giovanni slapped the slime from his face and s
truggled to his feet. ‘No! I do notta do da cook!’ His voice rose with every syllable.

‘
I’ll see you in the kitchen!’ Mattie smiled sweetly, pulling the towel around her shoulders. She padded back over to the changing room, tingling feet leaving a trail of muddy footprints.

An hour later, Mattie and Giovanni
were in Peace of Pizza, a grimy little café just outside Liverpool Street Station – one of those holes-in-the-wall that Mattie avoided like the plague. There was barely enough room for Mattie, Giovanni and the Iraqi owner to fit in the kitchen, and with Ram jammed up in the corner it was downright claustrophobic.

Y
ou’d think they’d at least plump for Pizza Express, Mattie thought as she looked around at the stained walls and peeling paint. But this? She shuddered, nearly stepping into a stream of unidentifiable liquid leaching from the back wall. Christ, what if she caught dengue fever or something? The whole thing seemed very poorly organized. Nate and Baz had rushed in from the car to check out the premises; obviously they hadn’t even been here before!

If they were working for her, she would have fired them.

‘
Can we just get this sta
rted?’ Mattie interrupted Giovanni and Ali the owner, who were arguing furiously about the best pizza toppings. Her skin was crawling from the mud-pit slime and her face burned with the heat coming from the large oven in the corner of the room. And the day was far from over – after this, she still had to go back to the studio to choose the next loser for tomorrow’s date. She’d certainly have earned her two hundred thousand pounds when this whole thing was finally finished.

‘
Ali, when Ram gives you the signal, you demonstrate how to roll the base,’ Nate said, sticking his head in from the minute eating area out front. ‘Then Mattie and Giovanni will roll their bases. Ali will show you the toppings to make the rest of your pizza. Pop it in the oven, and then we’ll cut to you eating.’

‘
Sounds great!’ Ali
rubbed his hands. ‘Pizza is peace,’ he said, smiling straight into Ram’s camera – which wasn’t even on. ‘I welcome you very much to my café.’

‘
Another nutter,’ Mattie muttered as she surveyed the cooking implements before her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cooked something besides ready meals from Waitrose. Her mum had banished her from the kitchen at an early age, saying no daughter of hers was going to be a slave to domesticity. Luckily Jess had been on hand to show Mattie the basics, like making toast.

The one time Mattie
had
attempted to cook something from scratch had been a disaster: a birthday cake for Kyle that had turned out more pancake than cake (who knew there were two kinds of flour?). Kyle had made a valiant effort to eat it anyway.

‘
Rolling!’ Ram pointed
the camera in their direction.

Ali
smiled and laid his hands on his heart. ‘I welcome you to Peace of Pizza. I believe we can make peace one pizza at a time.’

Mattie coughed loudly to cover bubbling laughter. Baz glared warningly at her.

‘
Now, I show Mattie and Giovanni how to bake their own peace-a!’ With a flourish, Ali put a roll of dough in front of her before throwing one rather unceremoniously at Giovanni. ‘First thing you must do is take your rolling pin’ – he held his up in the air and nearly clocked Ram’s camera’ – and smooth it out like so.’ He deftly flattened his dough.

Giovanni shook his head, scowling like a toddler. ‘I told you, I do notta cook.’

Mattie almost expected him to stamp his foot, too. ‘Come on, Giovanni. I don’t cook either!’ She lowered her voice and covered her mic. ‘Just do it,’ she hissed. ‘The sooner you do it, the sooner we get out of here.’

Giovanni
jerked away, nearly knocking her and Ali over. ‘You notta my mama! You do notta tell me whatta do!’ He took the lump of dough in front of him and heaved it against the wall. ‘I DO NOTTA COOK!’

Ali grabbed him by the neck. ‘
No violence in my kitchen! Pizza is peace!’ He shook Giovanni with every word. ‘You stay, you cook. You fight, you go.’ He let go of Giovanni who stared at him, wild-eyed.

Giovanni and Ali sq
uared off. Mattie looked at them and wondered who would actually win if it did come to blows. Ali was an Arabic version of Danny DeVito, and even though he was half Giovanni’s size, he was built like a bulldog. Her money was on the Iraqi.

‘
Okay, I stay,’ Giovanni said, quickly recovering his composure and smiling into the camera. ‘I stay.’

Mattie rolled her eyes. He’d obviously weighed up the options and figured being on television was worth a little ego bruising.

Ali stepped back over to where his dough was. ‘Right.’ He grinned into the camera. ‘Let’s make peace with pizza.’

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Thirty per cent of women admit to shopping for a wedding dress, pre-proposal.

Seventeen per cent of wedding dresses purchased never get used.

BACK AT LONDON STUDIOS
, MATTIE slumped into a chair in the green room as she waited to go on set. She’d been so busy all day she hadn’t had the chance to think about the two losers who were left.

I
magine if one was Stuart. She thought of his car blowing by her at the bus stop as she stood dripping and cold from the silly dunk tank incident, and anger shot through her. If it
was
him, she’d certainly do everything she could to exact revenge – including telling the whole nation about his toe-nail clipping habit and miniscule appendage. The women of Britain deserved to know. Maybe she could use her one question tonight to focus on pre-sex rituals?

And what if – no! She stopped herself from continuing that thought
and picked up a copy of the
Daily News
on the table, leafing through the pages to distract herself from thinking about Kyle.

Jesus Christ!
She nearly jumped out of her chair. There she was in black and white, smiling out of a massive photo with the headline ‘Re-Match!’ splattered across her forehead. She brought the paper closer to read the article by reporter Deniz Grady.