The final blog of this season of MIC is painfully late because I was on my death bed AKA had a glandular infection. I couldn’t bring myself to watch such TV gold in that state, so apols, yah?
Binky announces at morning snorkelling that she has had a little kiss with a little someone. This revelation somehow reverberates across the English Channel and straight back to London where in a bed somewhere JP sits bolt upright in a cold sweat.
Sam is driving around a jeep which he has christened The ShagMobile. He is picking up his sister in it and taking it to go and meet their mother and Tiff’s dad. Calling it The ShagMobile in this scenario is all kinds of fucked up.
In the sea of romance, Binky tells Mytton that she heard some raised voices from her balcony the other night. He explains that it was Frankie who was loudly spinning her web of vicious lies.
Why is Sam’s mum and Tiff’s dad in France? And where is Sam’s dad and Tiff’s mum? Is this a parental set up? Clive Watson’s chortling away as per, and throwing out the odd cheeky quip. Sam asks who he prefers – him or James. Clive says Sam and they high five. It’s all very jolly. Naturally, Tiff then ruins it by announcing to the table that Sam freaked out earlier in the holiday and everyone is left looking awkwardly down at their garlic soups.
Frankie has two new words – “team” and “Mytt”. The latter is in reference to Mytton and the former just sounds a bit lesbian.
French Ben Heanow is STILL hanging around. He is indulging in a spot of casual vandalism with Francis, Wheeze and Olivia Bentley who are spray painting graffiti onto a large sheet of metal. Francis then sprays a pair of tits onto Olivia Bentley and Wheeze forgets that she’s left-handed.
As he sips tenderly on a flirtini, Mytton asks Jamie what the situation is with Frankie. Jamie tells Mytton that he has to believe Frankie over Mytton which is a complete joke and he should be embarrassed with himself.
Victoria flies private, but we don’t talk about that.
Olivia Bentley tries to apologise to Toff but she’s like whatever bitch I’m reading my book.
Jess and her fit French BF are honouring their last night together by wearing double denim. He implies that he loves her. Will he follow her back to London? We all hope so, let’s face it.
Frankie and Mytton meet up in a cross-section of romantic alleyways. AND they bump into each other out in the street. He accuses her of not letting Jamie see his friends, which she says is ridiculous. Then Mytton says he’s having a party and she is all “well he won’t be fucking going!”
Drenched in his cold sweat, JP texted Binky with the words we have all been dreading all summer: “Hey bub.” Ollie is fuming about this!
Frankie forces Jamie to pack rather than go to Mytton’s party, while she sits and watches him. He is DESPERATE to go, but she informs him she would be LIVID if he went. He then inexplicably tells her he loves her, and she says “same” after waiting about 17 seconds.
At Myttons party, Francis has his kaftan on again, and is DJing. He brings Toff the drawing he did of her entwined with sage. She doesn’t want to know and chucks it into the pool as a metaphor for their soggy, flaccid attempt at love.
While everyone bitches about Jamie and Frankie at the party, Frankie raises a toast back at Jamie’s. “One, Nil, to me,” she says, sipping her champagne like the devil sucks on the teat of evil. She has slowly morphed into a Grade A bitch over the summer. She wants the McVities fortune, I can smell it!