Abs wanted to look tip-top for his TV comeback; and he wanted to look his best for Kelsey. But unwelcome thoughts kept crowding into his head – he didn’t want to think about Deano or Tony, or that fatal weekend in Wales and poor, poor Rhiannon; he didn’t want to think about Jez, speaking to someone in that summer house in the wood behind Bethany’s parents’ house – and he had to slap himself, and tell himself sternly, ‘Come on, Abs, sort your head out, mate.’

Then he jumped into the back of the cab sent by the production team and was driven along the seafront beneath the blazing sun, where they were filming at that restaurant owned by the millionaire chef. In truth, Abs could have walked, it was only a few minutes away, but it had been a long time since someone had offered to send a courtesy car to pick him up and he jumped at the chance.

When he arrived, a young production assistant hurried over to meet him. There were people walking around with clipboards and stopwatches, the camera and sound guys were setting up, and it hit him how much he had missed filming the show.

Laid in Essex! was presented as drama, but nothing was scripted, and cast members were expected to improvise. A lot of actors took exception to reality stars – who were real people, normal people who couldn’t afford to go to expensive acting schools, and didn’t get a leg-up from well-connected parents – but it was all just sour grapes.

As far as Abs was concerned, what he did, making up his own lines on the spot, romancing the camera and the viewing audience, was even more difficult than learning a script. It meant all he had to rely on was his charm, the force of his personality.

There were a few faces he recognized. One of the sparks who had been with LIE! since the first series shook his hand and told him that the show hadn’t been the same since he’d left.

Abs felt a lump harden in his throat. ‘Cheers, fella.’

The PA took him into the restaurant where all the lights were set up, and a trendy young bloke in a pale-blue leather jacket and cropped peroxide hair greeted him like an old friend. The PA introduced him as the director.

‘Hi, how you doing? I’ve heard a lot about Abs,’ – he pointed both forefingers – ‘the Total Legend.’

Abs grinned and looked around. He had hoped that the producer would at least have shown his face to welcome him back, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Truth was, Abs was nervous as hell. He’d been given a second chance and he didn’t want to blow it.

His mind drifted again to that chalet in the wood, and Jez’s shock when he saw him outside.

Knock it off, Abs. Focus.