Made In Chelsea new boy Harry might be an unbearable, impossible, entitled little bellend, but he has truly excellent taste in sunglasses. He’s wearing a beautiful pair of, I’m guessing, vintage Persols in order to take Liv out for a drive, and the juxtaposition is freaky - he has the expression of a devil and eyewear that might have been chosen by angels. It feels like admiring a stunning sculpture collection and then discovering that it was curated and owned by Stalin.
He proposes a party at his place in the country and I’m already nervous about it. What if we discover that he has really great taste in rugs?! I’m praying for chrome coffee tables, pleather sofas, wavy mirrors - anything that will allow us to collectively relax in our existing impression of Harry, and remind us that he is The Worst.
The Next Worst might be Mimi, who is at brunch with Ella, Julius and Fred. Fred is talking about how much he misses Liv, and Mimi is as willfully uncomprehending as Kanye West hearing he is over his overdraft limit and then telling his bank manager that he wishes to invent the solid platinum trainer. Mimi tells him that Liv is seeing Harry, so ‘You can do whatever you want’ as long as Fred wants dinner with Mimi, and not six months in woods experiencing some Scandinavian sylvan solidarity. Fred takes the hint and presumably makes a mental note to check the expiry date on his latest Pizza Express coupon.
In a rare and beautiful flouting of gender norms, Biscuits turns up at the Phene with a massive bunch of flowers for Sam. Julius announces that he has a ‘bad feeling’ about Harry - dude, we couldn’t feel worse about Harry if the theme from Psycho constantly blared out of his trousers - but Harry rings from the suit shop and asks Ella and Julius to his country pardy. ‘I think he’s trying to be friendly, he might actually apologise!’ coos an optimistic Ella. Dude, the man was buying clothes in a place named The Cad And The Dandy. He’s clearly a sociopath. He probably paid for his purchases in teeth.
As Tiff and Frankie angst over Jamie and Tina, giggly Daisy is sorry-not-sorrying Liv, because she’s invited Tina to the country and now Liv has to give her a lift. Although Daisy’s enormous Le Pilage is so huge it could contain Tina, so maybe she’ll just go in the back. After a cosy dinner for four descends into a shouting match about the difference between kissing and fondling, Sam and Biscuits abscond from the restaurant, leaving Tiff and Frankie with the bill, and head to the country also. Oh no!
People start to turn up at Mears Ashby Hall, Harry’s ‘country house’ and yours for five grand a weekend. Perhaps it’s been in Harry’s family for ages, and perhaps, if we were to go there and look at the walls and mantelpieces, we’d discover that Harry’s relatives are all stock photo models. Tina flies out of Liv’s car like a puppy who has just smelled some sausages. Maybe she got put in the boot after all. Daisy looks murderous, which is a bit unfair given it’s Daisy’s fault that she’s there in the first place. We can only assume that Tina made them listen to the Ed Sheeran album during the journey down, then demanded a loo stop and spent 40 minutes queuing at the Welcome Break pic 'n' mix counter. Jamie arrives a few hours later, bouncing into the room (he throws himself over an entire sofa, like a human javelin). ‘Did somebody say PAAAAAAARDAAAAAAYYYY?!’ he yells. He could cause a much bigger, more surprising stir by simply walking into a room and saying ‘Actually, it wasn’t too bad once we got off the M25. Here, I brought you some Milk Tray!’
Jamie arrives a few hours later, bouncing into the room (he throws himself over an entire sofa, like a human javelin). ‘Did somebody say PAAAAAAARDAAAAAAYYYY?!’ he yells. He could cause a much bigger, more surprising stir by simply walking into a room and saying ‘Actually, it wasn’t too bad once we got off the M25. Here, I brought you some Milk Tray!’
Jamie sees Tina and wants to ‘establish the elephant in the room’. Dude, the elephant is so established that there’s an oil painting of it in the dining room where one of Harry’s ancestors should be. Liv rings Frankie, and Frankie is so upset that she ‘literally can’t speak’. It doesn’t look good for them, romantically, but we can’t argue that they’re perfectly matched in terms of linguistic ability.
Harry comes to find Ella and tells her how to feel. ‘[Seeing me] is nice. It is nice. You can’t deny that it’s nice.’ Ella grudgingly admits that she enjoys flirting with him, in the way that many of us grudgingly admitted to our playground bullies that we’d have sex with the dinner lady, simply because torture is a provenly effective way of extracting a false confession. Ella actually says ‘cringe’ out loud. That’s how much she doesn’t fancy Harry.
Elsewhere Mimi is struggling to maintain any chemistry with Fred, having used up his quota of Icelandic quotes. He murmurs something about taking it slowly and being respectful to Liv, and Mimi nearly flips the table. ‘She’s MOVED ON,’ she yells, possibly looking for a knife and fork to bang together. Later, she tells Toff that he didn’t message her but she’s still ‘really excited for Liv to find out that we went on a date’. You say ‘excited’, we say ‘vengeful to the point of sexual arousal’. We also discover that Toff goes running in massive flatforms ‘because you never know who you’re going to bump into’. Who? Serial height discriminators? Nanosphobics?
Jamie and Frankie have a depressing, predictable fight, and all we learn is that Jamie’s taste in lamps can be described as ‘seventies Nan’. Ella tells Julius about Harry’s weirdness, and how she ‘humoured’ him. Julius tracks Harry down at Tramp, and says ‘thank you for inviting me to your party but can you please stop hitting on my girlfriend, you bastard’ and Harry gives him the post-truth, fake news version of events. Julius strops off, because he is an idiot, and Harry has the audacity to then hit on Ella again, because he is a bigger idiot. He makes Spencer Matthews look like a Ryan Gosling meme, and I’m starting to fantasise about seeing him watching his bank card being swallowed by an ATM that is surrounded by steaming dog turds.
More cheerfully, Liv and Fred have a lovely chat. Fred’s hair is looking fabulous, which is what happens when you abandon the dark side and embrace the true moral path. Fred then sees Mimi and lets her down gently, and this is not kind, or compassionate, or sisterly, but I can’t help but think ‘AHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!’ Liv confronts Frankie about Jamie, and points out the fact that if his story contradicts everyone else’s, he might be lying. (Also, Frankie love, I know you’re upset but we don’t call other women sluts! How many times do I need to tell you?) At least Jamie's defence is honest. ‘I literally just don’t think.’ No-one is going to disagree with him about that.
Hero of the week
No-one has acquitted themselves with honours, so let’s give it to Toff who is pounding the pavements of Fulham from a great height, and has not yet fallen over and broken an ankle. We are in awe of your skills!
Villain of the week
Harry is such a horror show that I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of awarding him anything. Let’s say Daisy, who insisted that Tina come to the country and then made a big, obnoxious deal about how awkward the situation was. Can you honestly say it was worth the screen time!?
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This article originally appeared on The Debrief.