Jamie Biscuits is a man of many talents and habits - he’s a raconteur, confectionary purveyor and tank top visionary - but he would be the first to define himself by his love of kunst. (That’s German for art, you rubes.) He’s helping Andy with some free expression in acrylics, mainly by daubing sticky, unwashable hand prints all over the crotch of his trousers. ‘This is me, in my happy place - you know how I’m always happy?’ explains Andy, pointing at some yellow. ‘And down here’ (he indicates a dark blue scribble) ‘are all the DEMONS, and the AGGRESSIVE LIES Louise is telling about me.’ Painting seems to be making everything worse. Biscuits can’t cure him with craft supplies, but he might be able to fix him by renting a big chateau in France, for ‘red wine, cheese.and Louise!’… Biscuits has become such a storyline shill that it’s only a matter of time before he’s stepping out of scene to give light direction.
Louise is already keeping Andy ‘at arm’s distance’ (a curious figure of speech) but she’s not so anti drama that she’ll turn down a free holiday. Lucy has invited the mystery girl who slept in Sam’s bed to come and confess to Tiff - and it turns out to be Tall Fran, friend of Cheska, Binky and the gilet. Imagining Sam and Fran sharing a pillow is a little like picturing a newborn puppy attempting an act of congress with a dying tomcat. Lucy explains Sam has been saying that Fran is obsessed with her, Fran reveals Sam did not mention Tiff, or anything other than his goofy intentions to get into her grundies. (‘WHAT UP?! It’s my penis!’) Sam claimed that Fran is ‘obsessed’ with him - like Fran could be obsessed with anything other than finding a hat wholesaler to help her cope with her fiscally unsustainable addiction to fedoras. Tiff allows half a tear to escape down her face before hiding inside her own jumper, and Lucy tells her to buck up. The hatred is reserved for Binky who spoke to Fran and then lied about it to Lucy. Poor Binks.
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Because everyone is posh, most of the gang end up going to France the very next day, and we see no-one waiting at the Post Office for euros, attempting to find a dog sitter or wailing ‘Shit! I have no clean bras!’ Alik has either forgotten his meds or banged a load of gak on the Eurostar because he is ON FORM. ‘HOW FUN WAS THAT BABY? THIS IS, LIKE, THE MOST ROMANTIC PLACE I’VE EVER BEEN TO! ANDY ISN’T SUCH A BAD GUY!’ he crows, cycling up to the gravel drive and seemingly four seconds away from a ‘look mum, no hands!’ incident. Tensions are brewing, mainly because everyone has decided Lucy is some sort of house elf (presumably she was in the loo at a motorway service station at the time) and she is being forced to fetch everyone wine. Louise and Rosie are looking at Andy with enough hatred and contempt to trigger a small electrical storm.
Back in Blighty, Fran confronts Sam - ‘I was really happy to hear that you’ve been telling everyone I’m obsessed with you! NOT!’ - and Sam admits that he’s ‘kind of fucked everything up, I feel awful.’ Well, GOOD. You SHOULD feel awful, Sam Thompson - and Josh and Stephanie go on a surreal double date with Tiff and Mytton. Josh composes a brilliant text for Tiff to send to Sam, Mytton doesn’t see what all the fuss is about and Mark Francis and Victoria star in a small, spiteful vignette about nothing being more horrible than non bone china mugs, apart from Christmas jumpers. ‘“Oh, I’m wearing a pullover with a battery pack!” I put them in the same category as a battery chickens!’” I’m sensing Nicky Haslam’s list is about to get a 2014 update.
En Provence, the bois are baffled that the girls are so bothered by the friendship between Andy and Alik. Louise’s feelings ‘are not enough to change who I am and who I hang out with,’ whinges Alik, which is a bit rich given how cross he was about who Lou watched Disney films with when he was out the country. They play boules, which makes me miss Francis Boulle - COME BACK BOOLAY! - and Lucy is dispatched to get red wine for everyone, while Biscuits discovers Sam lied about Fran, and admonishes him by phone. (Suspect he absolutely knew and is covering his back, because he knows that poor Binky is in such deep shit she might as well have been locked in the outhouse at the Annual Fibre Lovers’ convention.) Sam is picking up some suits when he calls, and his sole redeeming feature is that he’s very polite to Biscuits’ dry cleaner.
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Rosie broaches Alik’s weird friendship with Andy, and Andy is predictably defensive and horrible. ‘I’ve been cheated on by Louise, I can’t sit there and not talk about that.’ Andy, if the compulsion to open your big mean mouth and verbally assassinate your ex is that great, see a medical professional. You’re in France! They probably have the perfect suppository for you! Tiff and Sam have a talk, and Biscuits relays the news to Lucy, who is not pleased. Especially because he has also demanded that she fetch him some champagne, the lazy weasel. And everyone gathers together to shout at Binky for doing what Fran asked her to do. ‘Your loyalty lies with Lucy!’ smirks Biscuits. Oh, fuck off! Who asked you? You can’t pay for everyone to go to fancy France and make them your slaves and moral subjects. Not unless your name is Louis, followed by a bunch of Roman numerals, and it’s 1878.
The gang return from their trip (‘I really miss France! I put on half a stone!’ wails Andy, who was in the country for a whole 48 hours) and we see a weirdly styled post holiday shot at Binky’s, where her pink covered passport lies on the table at a perfect 85 degree angle, next to her suitcase which is adorned with a holiday hat. Binky is not relaxed from her lovely continental mini break. Binky has enough steam coming from her ears to power every BIkram studio within the M25. ‘You made me look like liar, you don’t go behind my back, that is throwing someone under a bus, fucking Fran!’ she hisses, before turning tail while Fran whimpers about feeling ‘like a horrible person.’ She has so much in common with Sam! Maybe they should get toge…no, forget we said anything. ‘Why can’t everyone just get along?!’ asks Alik. Because it’s Chelsea, mate. Which programme did you think you were agreeing to take part in? Songs Of Praise?
Hero of the week
It’s got to be Rosie Fortescue for knowing that sometimes being kind is more important than being liked. When Rosie is on your side, justice is on your side, and evil - and Andy - should cower. Rosie could teach us all a lesson in friendship, and Biscuits a lesson in when and how to stick your nose in. Also, the white shirt she wore on confrontation night was excellent. We want her diplomatic wardrobe.
Villain of the week
It has to be Sam, who might be the most dubious sexual prospect in the West, but has proved that his pants are on fire. He made Tiff cry, and he made Binky lie. And Fran, why the hell would you get into bed with Sam? One would sooner crash in the pub toilets than curl up with Thompson junior. Bet he would wear a jumper with a battery pack.
Follow Daisy on Twitter @NotRollerGirl
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This article originally appeared on The Debrief.