Now that the gang are no longer contractually obliged to use those special handsets, they’re back on their iPhones and able to read and respond to texts in a seemingly more naturalistic way. However, old habits die hard, and we begin with several key cast members turning the camp up to 11 and making 'shocking text' face, reeling back from the screens as if they’re post Millennial Lady Bracknells being confronted with handbags containing human babies.
The shocking news seems to be that Braless Liv has gone and got some. ‘I got ploughed by Alex Mytton!’ she reveals over lunch, while everyone politely prods their 50 euro turbot and wondered when the ladette phenomenon came back into fashion and whether they should all be drinking Smirnoff Ice and Carling shandies. ‘Toff also saw a bit of sausage,’ Liv continues, explaining that our favourite Zara-jacketed journo had the pleasure of seeing Boulle’s boulles. Everyone has a good giggle, apart from Steph who is looking frostier than a mini Magnum that has been trapped at the bottom of a freezer compartment. Liv goes off to have a ‘big drink’ before seeing Mytton, even though she’s already in a restaurant and all she has to do is turn around and say ‘le gin absolutement enorme, s’il vous plait?’ to the nearest waiter.
Liv's departure means Steph has free rein to make everything all about her, because no-one laughed when she hit on Mytton - they all just turned on her, because they are mean! She was so sad that she bought 12 Chanel bags in 36 hours! Steph, you can constantly complain about how much you hate your terrible friends, or you can leave and make new friends. TOWIE will be back on soon, right?
Anyway, it turns out Mytton has actually broken up with Nicola, by text. ‘I’m not enjoying the conversation, it’s been a bit shit for me,’ he wails, as Jamie and Sam suggest that he is a selfish and thoughtless lover. Poor little Mytton, being called to account for his behaviour. He doesn’t even have his buddy Spencer there to organise a cheer up orgy! Mind you, if Mytton is bad, Jamie is worse than Satan’s laundry if Satan had forgotten to put the dryer on and left his soggy jockstraps to fester in the drum for a week. Jamie, you will remember, managed to have two women to stay in his bed before Frankie arrived, and has been telling everyone that dating her is like a full time job. He doesn’t care. He’s cycling up a hill with her, asking ‘How much do you like me, out of 10? 11?’ He might think that dating Frankie is a 40 hour a week slog, but he’s so endlessly needy that I reckon it would be easier to birth and raise a child than be his girlfriend.
Toff is having a post coital hang out with Boulle, who is being a little free with his favours and pursuing Liv, telling Toff ‘Let’s not go crazy, I just want to have fun with you and whoever else. I’m on holiday!’ As lovely as it is to have Boulle back, one could get a little bit cross with him - look how lovely Toff is! You’re lucky to get a lick of her cone, figuratively or literally! We could ship ‘em hard, and there are so many adorable portmanteaus to be had - Toffee Souffle, anyone?! But Liv is not for Boulle. He’s a man of taste and refinement. He once had his picture painted with a pineapple! Does he really want a romantic relationship with someone who (probably) unironically calls sex ‘boinking’?
Sexy Luka turns up and makes eyes at Louise, even though she’s dressed like she mugged Sienna Miller in 2006 and is now hoping to marry Ashley Cole. (Louise, we LOVE your standard sartorial get up but if you can’t do a tiered maxi skirt, no-one can.) Sam claims credit for this set up - ‘I’m like one of those Dads who has to sell his daughter!’ If we hear any rumours that Louise can spin straw into gold, we’ll know where they originated.
Tiff presses Frankie and finds out how much she knows about Jamie's bad behaviour. The big reveal is that Mytton was tipsily hitting on Frankie the night he got with Liv, which paints a charming picture of how he was keen for sex with anyone who was vaguely up for it and in his taxi. Given Mytton has been spreading the word about Jamie's bad boyfriend behaviour, this is a controversial turn of events. It leads to Jamie and Frankie having a late night argument when she tells him it’s not on to complain that she’s like a job. ‘So, you’re an idiot. You’re the chore. You’re the one who makes it really hard’. Yes, Frankie. Now, please stop going back to him. There aren’t enough free sweets in the world.
Boulle organises the windiest wine tasting in the world, and even though it feels like this episode as been on television for eight and a half years and I’m starting to wonder whether I’ll ever see my family again, we must have the inevitable final argument in which everyone sits around a table and compares notes about what they know. Sam outs Mytton for trying it on with Frankie, Jess confronts Liv and Boulle - mainly Liv, for going on a date when Toff has established Crusher’s Rights. Steph is still going on about how unfair it is that Liv slept with Mytton and people weren’t mean to her, even though people keep explaining that Mytton is single now with the same patience and commitment to one syllable words that you’d use when telling a child that Santa might not be bringing them an actual horse. But we do learn that Louise has a secret London boyfriend who might be coming to visit! Commence the tooting of horns!
Hero of the week
Let’s give it to lovely Frankie for finally telling Jamie everything that we’ve fantasised about screaming at him - he’s a chore, and to paraphrase Fleetwood Mac, he makes loving un-fun.
Villain of the week
I feel like I’m victimising her, but I’m on such a hair trigger with self absorbed Steph who is turning into such an irritating narcissist that she makes Kanye look like the poster boy for Buddhism. The Pratt legacy is strong with this one.
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This article originally appeared on The Debrief.