Our last trip to Croatia with the Made In Chelsea crew is clearly going to be a Very Special Episode – Sam is back in Hvar, and he’s brought Louise and Ryan. Aside from the fact that Sam has spent less time back in London clearing his head than most of us spend clearing the clothes from the big chair next to the bed, it’s a bit worrying that Louise’s post party girl evolution has reached the point where she’s fulfilling the same role as Matron in the Carry On films. Instagram is about to become a very different place – Louise’s 1.1 million followers have seen her channelling Sienna Miller circa 2005, but what are they going to do with the fact that her brand new icon is beloved British battleaxe Margaret Rutherford? Anyway, Louise and Ryan have brought the moral high ground with them, restoring order to the coastline while ruining the geography of it.
Louise’s feelings for Habbs can only be described as Shakespearean – she’d quite like to murder her messily and then fling her corpse behind a curtain. Habbs’ ex has been in touch with Sam, and he’s kindly forwarded on some messages she sent at the start of the trip. ‘When he’s kissing me, I’m thinking of you.’ ‘I’m still in love with you, I’m crying myself to sleep,’ ‘Your dick is like a mighty oak tree, but Sam’s reminds me of that day in junior school when we planted saplings and I couldn’t get mine to stand upright in the soil,’ et cetra. (Can you guess which one I made up?) This does not look good for Habbs, and Sam would be less hurt if he had to travel back in time to the Middle Ages for a root canal. But who would pass that information on? Why? It’s the height of pointless cruelty – Habbs’ ex must be de Sade with a smartphone. Still, Habbs only cares about making up with Melissa. ‘I actually love her, I don’t know how we’re going to get back, Harry is such a barrier between us now,’ she sobs. I doubt Harry would cry so volubly if he lost Melissa. He’d simply slither away on a trail of mucus.
Sam Prince is also a fist of pure emotion. He still wants Tabitha. ‘I wouldn’t trust her! She’s a liar!’ hisses Miles. Mate, why do you even care? You didn’t even like Tabitha before you realised that she wouldn’t be bothered by being rejected by her. If Miles was a teenage girl, he’d be the sort who would make a big deal of not liking One Direction, then he’d sulk when no-one bought him tickets and spread a big mad rumour that they couldn’t sing because Harry and Louis were actually Richard and Judy in disguise. ‘I appreciate the fact that you have my back but I honestly don’t want to hear it any more,’ says Sam Prince. What is that strange, warm, prickling feeling? Why is my head moving up and down, of its own volition? Could this be my menopause, come early? Or is it the first stirrings of respect for Princey?
Now, we’ve all been on holiday and secretly hoped for personal growth and change. Perhaps we secretly downloaded a few Adriene videos and planned to do some sneaky sun salutes while everyone else was hungover, only to start every day by having to be woken up for lunch. Maybe we honestly believed that those two weeks in the South of France would mark the first fortnight of our sugar free lives. (‘I can just have steak and green salad! And, ah, croissants don’t count, do they? Pass the jam!’) So it’s comforting, if frustrating, to realise that we’re not the only people who go on holiday and fail to change their ways. Poor Liv has spent the whole summer in Croatia trying to convince herself of a future with Digby, and she’s still exactly where she was two series ago. ‘Is it special enough?’ asks Ollie, gently. To borrow heavily from another reality show, Digby might be perfect on paper but Liv could be happier.
Louise is very happy, I think. She’s laying into Diana over lunch and she’s enjoying it as much as I’d enjoy an ex boyfriend’s televised divorce. ‘I don’t understand why you’re still here and trying to integrate with each other’s friends. It’s ruined my brother’s summer,’ she hisses, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Biscuits, who did everything but put Diana’s flight on his Candy Kittens AmEx, has gone very quiet. Louise accuses Diana of forming a ‘hate club’ with Habbs. ‘You can both just fuck off as far as I’m concerned.’ Louise is furious that Diana has come all the way to Croatia for a hoped for sexy holiday, oblivious to the fact that it’s slightly odder to get a boat to an island in order to tell people off. Although I suppose that’s how wars start…
The Ry-man (I am assuming this aggrandising nickname is being enforced because of a sponsorship deal with the nationwide stationery chain Ryman’s) is having dinner with Digby and ‘slimy’ Harry Baron, although confusingly, Harry arrives moments before his first course, without even looking at a menu. Maybe the restaurant is a very upmarket Wetherspoons and Harry ordered on the app. Then Harry pulls a ‘Neighbours exit,’ leaving his congealing plate of mystery meat untouched. ‘I’m extremely shocked by your reaction here this evening,’ hisses Harry, who did not come here to be insulted. There are plenty of other places he could go for that. The little shit is such a politician. He makes Boris Johnson look like George Washington. One day, Harry will be dripping his fake goo all over the Today programme, and when that happens I am leaving Earth.
Sam Prince tells Tabitha that he still likes her – hooray! Biscuits tells Sam to go with his gut and tell Habbs how he feels during a totally normal pal bath. Or am I the only person who doesn’t use a scrubbing brush?! Is this the future of exfoliation? Let me know! Louise reacts as Dame Maggie Smith would, on hearing an extra say ‘’Scuse me ma’am, the butler shat the mantelpiece.’ Every single one of her vowels has shifted to the right. ‘Clurly, she’s unhunged,’ she says of Habbs. Would it be very mean to remind Louise that it has been alleged that she used to take her top off at parties and snog members of boy bands? Let she who is without sin pick up the first aitch. Habbs makes a valiant effort to get Louise on side, and she’s rebuffed, but who cares? She’s back with her big love, Melissa. Sam and Harry fail to make it up, and in news that will shock zero people, Liv and Digby end it. Even the marine authorities saw it coming – there is a convenient boat and captain waiting for Digby at the jetty, because that’s one of the few unbreakable rules of Made In Chelsea. If you’re going to dump someone, you must do it by a large body of water. Presumably he’s on his way to Split…
Hero of Hvar
Most uncharacteristically, Sam Prince’s youthful belief in hope over experience has me all aflutter. I hope he and Tabitha can make it work. I’m tempted to try to paint Miles with that polish you use if you want to stop biting your nails, in order to make sure he’s too revolting for Tabitha to snog.
Asshole of the Adriatic
I’ve always had a problem with Harry Baron, but in this series he has made me doubt my enduring belief in the intrinsic goodness of humanity.