Could It Be Magic – or Everything Changes?
Last night’s action from the villa wasn’t, it’s fair to say, the most scintillating. Perhaps we’ve been spoiled in recent days with some epic moments, but calmer waters were being navigated yesterday by our intrepid shipmates – for the most part.
Islanders were exposed to some pretty hard-hitting comments made about them on Social media, and an interesting theory or two emerged – notably that Tommy and Molly weren’t perhaps set in stone as it were, and that the diminutive bombshell (so much more polite than titchy little blonde) was only in it for the cash. Subtitles – £50,000 reasons why I like Tommy.
High-level discussions took place on the subject between the happy campers, and Molly confided in the girls that she never thinks about the money. Yeah, right. Tommy’s soulmate (no, not Molly – Curtis, obvs) reassured him that Molly was straight up; and there was a secondary issue at large – Molly’s discomfort at the closeness enjoyed by single surfer-chick Lucie and her beau.
Lucie understood (doubtful), having said that ‘it’ (taking her friendship with Tommy to another level) wasn’t entirely impossible, and that she’d had close male friends in the past who’d turned into something else (mute surfboards, presumably). Tommy put her straight. ‘There are boundaries,’ he said. I think he knew what he meant, but I’m not 100% certain. More syllables equals less comprehension methinks, for our Mancunian pugilist, but I could be wrong. Or not.
Curtis and Amy plod along like an old married couple. But that’s probably unfair, as they actually speak occasionally and are often caught locking lips; to say nothing of the odd night-camera duvet movements. But they do look a tad bored, bless ‘em, and reading between the lines a spanner is about to be thrown into the works in the shape of the imminent introduction of a hunky chap who has Amy in his sights. Can’t wait. Curtis will probably get Tommy to sort him out. What are soulmates for.
There was lots of evidence around that no-one, frankly, can be trusted. Whispered conversations that are littered with ‘you won’t tell anyone, right?’ comments are swiftly followed by lots of people, er, telling exactly that to, er, other people. Snakes, the lot of ‘em. Splendid.
Talking of Curtis – who do any of the inmates remind you of? Danny is a dead-ringer in my book for Rivaldo, the gifted Brazilian footballer, best-known arguably for falling in a ludicrous heap at the 2002 World Cup when someone kicked a ball at him. Poor little cherub.
And Curtis? Well, every time he opens his mouth, I swear it’s Gary Barlow. You listen to him. Sooooo ….. if the rumoured new hunk nips in to try to steal Amy, and assuming Curtis doesn’t want that to happen, and feels he’s in bad books, or losing the battle, the following soothing words might help; ‘Whatever I said, whatever I did, I didn’t mean it; I just want you back for good.’
Failing that, how about “Take me back, take me back, to where I used to be. To hide away from all my truth, through the light I see. A million love songs later, and here I am trying to tell you that I care. A million love songs later, here I am – just for you girl.” Now I can’t see Tommy pulling that off, can you? Go Curtis – she’ll melt!