THE LAST BLIND DATE

Cilla stands facing the camera, teeth sparkling, hands clasped
together in front of her as she announces, "And we'll be hearing how
Linda and Malcolm got on after the break. Just to remind you, this is
the moment the screen went back."

A video recording is played of the lucky couple embracing and smiling
while, Cilla holding out envelopes with a big grin asks, "Now, who's
going to choose?"

Immediately the hands of both contestants disappear behind their backs.
After some deliberation, Linda wriggles her hips and makes the choice.
Her dark eyes light with enthusiasm as she opens the envelope.
"Whoooee! A date in Arizona!"

Aping a third rate soccer player who has just scored a hat trick,
Malcolm, an under-weight weed with gelled blond hair, bends his elbows
and raises his clenched fists in front of him while his mouth forms a
silent 'Yes!'

Linda is relieved of the ordeal of reading out the bigger words on the
card by Cilla taking it from her. "Yes, you'll be flown out as V.I.P.s
and transferred to a luxury hotel. During your stay you will have the
opportunity to try your hands at being cowboys, riding quarter horses.
Then you'll visit the Grand Canyon and explore the magnificent views
from your own private aeroplane."

She takes a breath while she waits for the audience's "Whooo!" to
subside.

"On landing," Cilla continues, "you'll be transferred to a raft for a
ride on the white waters of the Colorado River." There is much flashing
of cheesy smiles and biting of bottom lips all around, "Now you will
come back and let us know how you got on, won't you?" Cilla
prompts.

"Of course," the happy couple reply in unison. Then, while carrying on
some inaudible conversation, they skip up the steps and briefly pause
to wave at the audience before leaving the set hand in hand.

[The applause of the audience is interrupted by a three-minute
commercial break before the programme recommences back in the
studio.]

The camera zooms in on Cilla doing a rabbit impression, while her
spindly legs wobble on her stiletto-heeled mules. "So lets see how our
cowboy couple got on in Arizona, shall we?"

A short clip of Malcolm attempting to lasso Linda, and generally acting
like a moronic juvenile both on and off horses, is shown. It continues
with scenes of them peering out the window of a small light aircraft,
and then some distance shots of them riding a rubber raft down
rock-strewn rapids.

Back in the studio Cilla begins to gargle again. "Now it's time to find
out if a white water ride will lead to a white wedding bride. Ladies
and gentlemen, please welcome back Linda and&;#8230;err&;#8230;"
she glances in the direction of the sofa, "&;#8230;Malcolm, or is
it?" She shoots another glance at someone hidden off camera in the
studio, then puts on a deadpan face and looks directly into the camera.
"Well, to be perfectly honest, folks, this blind date didn't turn out
exactly how we had planned it. It's quite a unique story, so I'll leave
Linda to tell it. And here she is, folks - Linda!" She skips and nearly
trips over a low step on her way over to where Linda is sitting with
the Stetsoned stranger. "So, Linda, love, come on, tell us what
happened, chuck?"

"Well," Linda raises a wry smile and wrangles the hem of the tight
green dress a little further down her thighs, "it was like I said after
the show. When Malcolm chose number three, I was absolutely delighted
that I'd won. But immediately the screen went back, I sensed that
little lecherous bastard undressing me with his eyes, and I suppose,"
She shrugs, "things just went downhill from there. After the post-show
meal he was banging on the door, trying to break into my hotel room.
Then when we were getting on the plane I felt his clammy little hand
groping up my skirt. I'm not joking, Cilla, just the thought of it
makes me shudder even now. During the flight he never stopped about us
joining the Mile High Club. The filthy sod even suggested we do 'it' in
the aircraft toilet!"

"Quite a little gentleman our Malcolm then, eh?" Cilla chips in, for
want of something to say as much as anything. "So, tell me, Linda,
love, who's this handsome hunk you've brought with you tonight?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Cilla," Linda gave a girlish giggle, "This is Bret. He
was the pilot who flew us over the Grand Canyon."

"So he flew you over there, now you've flown him back here?" Cilla
echoes Linda's giggle. "Why, howdy, Bret," she drawls at her guest in a
corny western accent.

"Howdy, ma'am," he replies, tipping the brim of his Stetson, as if
mimicking Cilla's parody of himself - but he isn't! His hand drops into
Linda's lap, seeking a comforting squeeze. She responds
accordingly.

"So," Cilla continues, "what did Malcolm think of your association with
young Bret here?"

Linda's mouth forms into a cross between an embarrassed smile and a
grimace. "Well, Cilla, that was the last straw. Malcolm clocked me
clicking Bret in the plane. By the time we landed and got onto the
raft, he was seething with a violent attack of jealousy. He called me a
cheap black-haired whore, amongst other things that I cannot repeat on
prime-time television. Anyway one thing led to another and he
eventually became physically violent. Quite honestly, Cilla, I thought
I was in danger of being raped. The raft was bobbing about all over the
place. There was water splashing about everywhere. It was taking the
man who was steering the thing all his time to keep it under control,
so he couldn't help me. Malcolm was tearing at my clothes. While I was
trying to defend myself, I suppose the fastenings on his life jacket
must have come undone. I'm not exactly sure how it occurred; he could
have taken it off to move more freely, but sometime during the
struggle, the jacket slipped off him. It was really frightening. He was
all over me, trying his best to pin me down; the raft was lurching all
over the place and I thought I was going to die. Then it happened: The
raft struck a huge boulder and Malcolm was pitched headlong, straight
over the bow and into the current. God, was I relieved?"

"Bet that cooled him off," Cilla quips, "Do I take it, from what you've
told me, you two won't be seeing one another again?" Another Cilla
giggle.

"Cilla," Linda breaths an exasperated sigh, "it's doubtful if anyone
will ever see him again. They haven't found him yet! And do you know
what? I was so upset by that weedy little pervert with those filthy
aspirations above his station, I couldn't really give a damn what's
happened to him. It's just seems a pity that such a beautiful place as
the Grand Canyon may be littered with his remains."

Quite out of character, Cilla's expression shows signs of nervous
tension. "Well, Linda, what can I say? I'm sorry things didn't turn out
better than they did for you."

Linda's face bursts into the glow of a warm relaxed smile as she pats
Bret's hand again. "But it couldn't have been better," she beams at her
beau, "I've got my man and everything's wonderful, isn't it,
Bret?"

"Sure is," he concurs with an equally broad smile.

"So, Cilla," Linda picks up again, "I've only got one last thing to
tell you: Get yer 'at out!"

? Copyright Paul Holmes 2001 (1,265 words)