Belinda’s dulcet tones filled the air. Regardless of why she’d been interrupted yesterday, her script hadn’t changed. She stuck word for word to what she’d said last time. ‘It’s Friday and we are here in the stunning Highlands of Scotland for the most epic, most unique and most special series of Enchantment every created. Twelve new contestants are waiting in the wings and all of them have special skills and abilities. All of them want to win the coveted Trophy of Spells. And all of them know that,’ she paused for dramatic flourish before she launched into her catchphrase: ‘Magic. Is. In. The. Air. Welcome back to Enchantment!’

The gaggle of producers herded us closer to the stage. I caught one last flash of Winter’s sapphire eyes before I was swallowed up in the crowd of contestants. It was too late to do anything now. Story of my life.

***

Given that the show was pre-recorded I hadn’t expected it to be seamless but I wasn’t prepared for the stopping and starting that went on. Bellows fluffed his lines on three separate occasions and had to restart. A dark cloud momentarily passed across Belinda’s sculpted cheekbones and she had to be re-shot. At one point, Brutus darted across the stage. Considering how heartily Bellows and the rest of the crew laughed, however, I had a feeling that part wouldn’t be edited out.

With all the delays, I was convinced that I had plenty of time to sneak away and find Winter again. That was until one of the make-up artists who came up on stage to re-touch Belinda’s foundation gave her a small mirror to hold, and she dropped it accidentally. It smashed into umpteen pieces. Surely even Winter wouldn’t be able to ignore that kind of omen.

Once all the opening scenes had been covered, the contestants were brought up on stage one by one. Barry’s explanation about why they had been given the chance to get to know each other first now made sense. Each of my supposed competitors was on their very best behaviour, offering happy smiles into the cameras and hamming it up for all they were worth. I was fascinated by how well they each fitted into their assigned roles. Maybe the producers were cannier than I’d given them credit for and they really did have amazing insights into each person’s character.

I glanced down at my own costume and grimaced. I hoped not.

Mike bounded up onto the stage and flexed his muscles, flashing a toothpaste grin to an almost simpering Belinda. Harriet, who was still taking every opportunity to throw me the evil eye, all but shuffled over when it was her turn. Her shoulders drooped and she spoke in a hushed voice: The Mouse indeed. The trouble was that, in my experience, it was the quiet ones who you had to watch out for.

Rachelle, a beautiful young woman of Haitian descent, swayed her hips and murmured fake voodoo incantations to elicit a gasp. Shoto, the token Asian, spoke of Zen’s role in creating powerful magic spells. Lou blushed and told everyone she was just a housewife who’d discovered a talent for magic when she’d burnt some cupcakes in the oven and managed to reverse their dodgy appearance. Although when Belinda prodded her, Lou admitted that they’d still tasted of charred sponge.