Page 13 of Beautiful Losers

He smirks, like he’s won some kind of bet with himself.

‘Let me get you some more of this,’ I say, lifting his plate of banana bread. ‘I made it especially for our VIP guest.’ I head towards the kitchen, glancing back over my shoulder. Jack stretches his feet out under the table, victorious.

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Told you he was a massive …Yiv inserts theaubergine emoji.

No shit, I type back.I just didn’t realise to what extent –confounded face emoji.

I unscrew the cover of the plug connected to the toaster whileYiv is typing.I filled her in on what Jack had said about Ari. She told me if she wasn’t on a work trip, she’d be on the first plane out to Cordes. If he thinksThe Shiningis scary, he should check out Asian horror. She’ll go fullGrudgeon his ass. (I remind her thatThe Grudgeis a Japanese film, not Chinese. Yiv says there’s no distinction between the two to an ignoramus like Jack Hamilton.)

You need to boot his arse out on the streets. NOW.

I place the main wire in the plug and thread the individual wires into place.

Can’t, I type back.Need the –dollar emoji.

But what about the TV show? He’s going to make you look like an absolute idiot.

Not necessarily. He might fall for the place and we come out of this thing looking like The Ritz?

I add the hands-in-prayer emoji and hit ‘send’.

Hysterical-laughter emoji.Fiadh, have you seen his previous stuff?

Regrettably, I was now familiar with Jack Hamilton’s complete broadcasting oeuvre. After overhearing him on the phone to his agent the other day, I went online and found a similar travel series he’d filmed in Ireland a few years back. It was as unimaginative and ill-informed as I had feared – a series of interviews and monologues (mainly monologues – Jack is fond of those) presenting Ireland as a rural backwater to Britain, its natives perma-drunk simpletons. Archive shots of kids riding bareback through poverty-stricken streets were favoured over the reality of modern Ireland – hard facts, like the country being one of the most successful tech economies in the world.

Despite the sneering tone, Jack had taken a shine to certain characters, including an affable B&B owner who emerged as the unlikely star of the entire series. In a subsequent article, the man credited Jack with putting his flailing guesthouse on the map. He hasn’t had a night off since. As much as it pains me, my only option is to stick out the two weeks and mount a full-scale charm offensive to persuade Jack to paint La Maison Bleue in a favourable light.

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The Saturday market is busier than usual, a busload of French tourists stocking up on local cheese and handmade soaps. I waveat Leonard, who’s giving his friend a hand selling his hammocks, keeping my other eye on Ari, on the carousel. Myriam is with him, but I’m not sure I trust her yet with Ari. She’s constantly distracted by her phone. Also, I don’t know the girl. She seems harmless, but so did Vladimir Putin, and look how that turned out.

At the fruit and vegetable stall, I pop ten peaches into a paper bag and grab a watermelon from the front row.

‘That’s not ripe,’ says a voice from out of nowhere.

I turn round. Jack is standing behind me, wearing sunglasses the colour of Vantablack and eating an apple.

‘How do you know it’s not ripe?’ I say.

‘The field spot on the underside is white. A ripe melon should have a creamy yellow ground spot along its belly.’

‘It looks fine to me,’ I say. I don’t know the first thing about melon ripeness, but I’m reluctant to give Jack the win.

‘Give it a thump.’

‘Huh?’

‘On the rind. If the sound is deep and hollow, like a knock on the door, it’s good to eat.’

What is this guy – the watermelon whisperer? Sceptically, I tap on the skin with my knuckles. The sound comes back high-pitched, like a ring.

‘See? It’s not ready. Try the one behind it.’

He takes a satisfied bite of his apple. I could ignore him and buy the melon I’m already holding, but I don’t want to seem churlish. He waits while I pay and follows me to the next stall.

‘Have you been in hospitality long?’ he says, as I ask themarchandto bag up a selection of fresh ravioli.

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