Page 22 of A Game of Lies

‘He probably thinks I’ve found out.’ Jessica swallows. ‘Maybe he’s worried I’ll be upset, or disgusted, or—’

Ffion frowns. ‘He doesn’t know you know he wears women’s clothes?’

‘I only discovered it a couple of years ago. I wanted to give him space to tell me in his own time. I left a magazine open at an article on cross-dressing couples, kept mentioning LGBTQ people I’d met through work. Trying to show him it wouldn’t matter, you know? And at the same time, I figured if he didn’t want to tell me, that was cool too. I mean, we’re married, but we’re entitled to our own lives too, you know?’

‘If he’d been open from the start,’ Miles says, a pious note in his voice, ‘none of this would have—’

‘There’s only one person to blame for this, and that’s you,’ Jessica says sharply. Her brow furrows with a sudden realisation. ‘I saw a cameraman when I arrived – you’re not still filming, are you?’ Miles’s silence is enough of an answer, and Jessica turns to Ffion and Georgina in fury. ‘And you’re letting him?’

‘It’s not a question oflettinghim,’ Georgina says. ‘He isn’t breaking the law.’

‘Unfortunately,’ Ffion adds, earning herself a reproving look from Georgina.

‘Then the law is wrong.’ Jessica sinks into a chair, as though her batteries have suddenly run out.

‘Mrs Francis,’ Georgina says gently. ‘When Ryan applied for the show, he disclosed having previously lived with depression. Is that something you’re aware of?’

‘Aware of?’ Jessica gives a humourless laugh. ‘It’s hard not to be aware of your husband being sectioned.’

‘Sorry, what?’ Ffion, who is messaging DI Malik with a brief update, snaps her focus back to the conversation. ‘Ryan was sectioned?’

‘They said he’d had a psychotic episode, that it was for his own good.’ Jessica bites her lip. ‘And it was – it really was. Even Ryan could see that, once he’d got a bit better. He became a voluntary patient then. We both found that easier, I think. More control, you know?’

‘That sounds pretty serious.’ Ffion tries to keep her voice calm. ‘He really should have disclosed that in the medical section of his application, so the production team had the full—’

‘But he did.’ Jessica looks confused. ‘I made him. I said if he insisted on applying, he at least had to be a hundred per cent up-front about his history. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Ryan’s been well for years, but—’ She breaks off and picks at her fingernails. ‘I guess I hoped he’d be knocked back. But he wasn’t.’

Ffion stands and glares at Miles. ‘Why didn’t you tell us about this?’

‘It …’ Miles swallows. ‘It must have slipped my mind.’

‘Don’t bullshit me. You let a man with a history of severe mental illness on to a reality TV show specifically designed to destroy its participants—’

‘You think I should have rejected Ryan’s application purely because he’d been in hospital?’ Miles takes a step towards Ffion. ‘That sounds very much like discrimination to me. Are you suggesting someone with mental ill health can’t participate in normal activities?’

‘Exposureisn’t nor—’

‘Absolutely not,’ Georgina says smoothly, cutting across Ffion’s furious response. ‘In fact, I think it’s admirable of you to look beyond the stereotypes and see the person behind the labels.’

‘Well, I—’ Miles blinks. ‘Yes, exactly.’ He shoots a look of pure arrogance at Ffion, who no longer trusts herself to speak. Miles twisted her words the same way he twists what people see onExposure.

‘I wonder …’ Georgina smiles, ‘would it be possible to see the enhanced risk assessment you carried out for Ryan?’

‘I …’ Miles’s mouth continues moving, but nothing comes out.

‘And details of the additional psychological support available, of course. Oh, and I’m assuming you have someone watching the livestream who’s been briefed on the contestants’ individual psychological history and specific needs, so perhaps we could talk to them, too.’

There’s a noise in the courtyard and Miles looks out of the window, visibly grateful for the distraction. His eyes widen. ‘What the—?’

The door to the editing studio is wide open.

‘I locked it.’ Miles turns to the others, as though they might back him up. ‘I always lock it when I’m not there.’ He crosses to the back door and flings it open with a bang. ‘Hey! What are you doing?’

There’s a moment’s silence, before Dario emerges from number eight. ‘There you are!’ he calls.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Miles shouts back. ‘Your keys are for emergencies, not to barrel into my studio whenever you feel like it.’

‘I was looking for you.’

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