Tony’s mate, Deano, had brought a load of beers and spirits – there was bourbon and tequila, and vodka in the freezer – and everyone was pissing themselves laughing because Abs hadn’t brought any suitable clothes. It got cold at night in the countryside, and all he had packed was a thin cotton jacket and a couple of posy tee-shirts. He wore a pair of white trainers that had already got filthy from walking the few steps between the rental car and the door of the cottage. All the others had brought big coats, but Abs was a metrosexual, and he didn’t know the first thing about the countryside.

‘I’ve got some wellies you can wear,’ Tony told him.

‘I don’t wear wellies,’ Abs said. ‘I wouldn’t be seen dead wearing wellies, bruv, it would totally destroy my image.’

‘We’ll buy you a nice cagoule,’ said Jez.

‘Yeah?’ Tony laughed. ‘Good luck finding a shop within a hundred miles.’

Tony had found the cottage on the internet. It was cold and damp, there was a drizzle of hot water, the toilet seat was broken, the flagstones on the kitchen floor were like ice against the soles of your feet. The furniture was old and knackered and smelled of cat piss – at least, Abs hoped it was cat piss. The worst thing was, there were only three bedrooms – there were meant to be four – so Tony and Deano had bagsied single bedrooms for themselves and Abs and Jez, who went way back, agreed to share.

‘You’ve really outdone yourself here, bruv,’ said Abs, looking around. This wasn’t the kind of place he was used to staying in, not at all.

‘It was a bargain,’ protested Tony.

‘Course it was.’ Abs pressed his fingers into a rip in an armchair and pulled out the foam stuffing. ‘They must have seen a mug like you coming.’

‘Better leave some choice words on TripAdvisor,’ said Jez.

Tony frowned. ‘What’s TripAdvisor?’

They had thought a long weekend miles from anywhere would be a laugh, and it had seemed like a good idea at the time. But Abs already felt cut off from the world. He couldn’t get any internet, and everything was so still, so quiet; it gave him the creeps when what he was used to was people and noise and all the mod cons of urban life. He missed all his usual haunts back in Essex, the bars and clubs. And the truth was, he was used to being recognized in the street, and made a fuss of by strangers. He liked to pick up the red tops of a morning to find his face on the showbiz pages. Out here, with just Tony and Jez and Tony’s boorish mate Deano for company, he was a nobody.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ he suggested.

So they all went in search of a good time, just as the sun started to drop behind the trees. The idea of sitting around that cottage for the next four days without any mobile reception made Abs feel miserable, particularly as he was waiting to find out if the spin-off from Laid In Essex! that a production company was pitching was going to get the green light. If a network picked up All About Abs, Kelsey might even agree to become his fiancée.