‘We need something to boost ratings.’ Beni looked away from her monitor. ‘This was meant to be our raunchiest series ever. I mean, we’ve got it all: gay, straight, bi, trans. A horny virgin. Is it too much to expect just two of them to get it on? Our tenth year and we’ve had nothing but a half-hearted blowjob! What’s wrong with these people? Do you think the cameras put them off?’

‘Shouldn’t do,’ said Greg, clutching his clipboard tight against his skinny frame. ‘My ex always used to film us. I’ve seen myself taking it more times than I’ve seen Chicago.’

‘You should get that on a t-shirt.’

Crossing the sleek editing suite to the miniature freezer, Beni dropped ice cubes into two glasses and filled them to the brim with gin.

Handing Greg his drink, she turned to the two large screens in the centre of the room, each split into four subsections that stared into the infamous house.

‘Look at this.’ Beni pointed to the bedroom that was monochrome through the nightcam. ‘It’s midnight and they’re all asleep.’

‘Such a disappointment!’ Greg tutted. ‘That dentist said in her audition that she was a nymphomaniac and she’d have her tits out at every opportunity. She’s done nothing but paint her nails and make pancakes. She’s about as exciting to watch as a herpes outbreak.’

‘Well, the lads’ mags won’t be interested if she gives us the money shot for nothing. No one buys a lottery ticket if they can play the game for free.’

Though she was on yet another diet, Beni reached for the box of Black Magic on her desk. How had they got the contestants so wrong? she asked herself for the umpteenth time. She and Greg had prided themselves on choosing the most controversial mix of applicants, but even the BNP supporter and Nigerian asylum seeker had formed some sort of friendship. Could it really be that people’s preconceptions were only skin deep? Surely not.

‘I don’t know how much longer this can run, Greg,’ she sighed.

Greg clapped his hands to his face, his reaction as genuine to Beni as the faux-Gucci glasses he wore. ‘Don’t say that, sweetie.’

‘You know it as well as I do. I mean, would you tune into this rubbish?’

She looked back at the screen and caught her breath at the sight before her. In tight boxer briefs, the buff sports science teacher was cautiously moving across the bedroom, glancing to the left and right before slipping into bed with the student with pink dreadlocks.

‘Oh. My. God.’ Beni’s mouth dropped open as the bodies before her broke into a steady, rutting rhythm. ‘Get Steve to pull a close up. Quick!’

With Greg on the intercom to the cameramen, Beni found herself transfixed by the scene, unable to believe her luck. This was just what they needed; virginity lost on live television. She could see the headline now: SORDID SIR SHAGS SOZZLED STUDENT.

Things seemed better already.