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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2018
Copyright © Sarra Manning 2018
Cover design Ellie Game © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018 Cover illustration © Shutterstock.com
Sarra Manning asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780008291785
Ebook Edition © September 2018 ISBN: 9780008291143
Version: 2018-07-17
BATTLE OF THE BIG BROTHER BEAUTIES!
Will It Be Amelia Or Becky Who Wins Tonight’s Final? Place Your Bets!
In one corner we have blonde banker’s daughter, Amelia Sedley, 22, the posh totty who’s been unlucky in love but has become princess of the nation’s hearts. And in the other corner we have red-headed stunner Becky Sharp, 20, a care assistant with a big heart and a wicked sense of humour.
Ahead of tonight’s final, bookies have slashed odds on either of them to win and are saying it’s too close to call. One thing’s for certain, this year’s Big Brother has had a massive ratings boost thanks to these two babes.
Who can forget Poolgate? Or Becky’s rousing ‘chicks before dicks’ speech? The double eviction of house villains, Leanne and Johnny? Or just how fabulous Amelia and Becky look in their bikinis?
So The Globe would like to wish both girls best of luck tonight and thanks for all the mammaries!
‘Big Brother house! You are live on Channel Five, please do not swear.’
Even though they’d been expecting the announcement, the two young women jumped as the excited tones of the TV announcer were broadcast into the house on a studio set in Elstree where they’d spent the last two months.
‘Are you all right?’ Becky Sharp mouthed to Amelia, her BFF, who was clutching her white acrylic wine glass for dear life.
The roar of the crowd gathered outside was audible even in the hermetically sealed house. It didn’t sound like a good roar but more like the last thing the Christian martyrs heard before they were ripped to shreds by lions in a Roman amphitheatre.
Although it was a warm August night, Becky couldn’t help the shiver that ran through her. Her eyes widened and she bit her bottom lip, making sure that her slightly furrowed brow was shown to its best advantage by the camera to her left, positioned high up in the corner. You couldn’t spend eight weeks in a house with eighty cameras in it without knowing exactly where those cameras were. Anyone who said that after a while you forgot their presence and showed your real self – like, say, the ten other contestants who’d already been kicked out of the house – were either liars or idiots. Or both. Yes, definitely both.
‘I’m so nervous,’ Amelia said, her wispy voice catching at the same time as her soft, pretty features began to wobble. Becky recognised the signs, Lord knows she’d seen them often enough to recognise when Amelia Sedley was about to burst into tears. On average, at least three times a day. On the day that Amelia had been cruelly cast aside by Gav, an ex-Marine, now personal trainer, from Wigan so he could fall into bed with Chloe, a glamour model from Braintree, she’d cried an unprecedented ten times. ‘Anyway, I won’t win. I don’t want to win.