Tuesday, 1st June 1999

Shame! We didn't begin Tuesday's episode with the scene I'd been hoping for (Luke being carted off back to clink watched by the jeering Greg and Mick). In fact we started the show merely watching the bizzies excavating the contents of the drain. A fascinating job, no doubt and somebody's got to do it.

The hole had been cordoned off, which put an area about three foot square off limits and Greg was standing nearby tamely trying to wind DS Rose up with the odd jibe concerning the bizzies' inability to find Luke despite having searched the Mussie's house whilst he was ensconced there.

DS Rose is hoping to find traces of DNA. He told Greg that if there is nothing to implicate Luke, then he will be checking everyone at the party together with any sexually active males on the Close. Reference to the latter group concerned Greg who was, by then, thinking back to his fling with Susannah and obviously doesn't want to be found out. He made up an excuse to call at Susannah's and warn her. She was confident that nothing will be found and put Greg's mind at ease. They both admit how much they've missed each other. Cue rectification. . .

Meanwhile, outside in the Close, the search continues.

Jacqui Dixon was invited to lunch with Nathan and his doctor friend, Darren. Jacqui's rather taken with both of them and found out that Doctor Darren (doesn't sound quite right, somehow, that!) has just joined the local surgery. A successful lunch led Nathan to invite Jacqui out for dinner that evening.

Jackie Corkhill finished her last day at work before the holiday. She's getting excited and apparently is convinced that: "This time tomorrow, I'll be just like Judith Chalmers." No, Jackie. You won't be. Judith Chalmers is orange, you'll still be white.

Jackie confessed that she was nervous about flying. I'm sorry Jackie, but I have to correct you there as well. It's not the flying that scares most people, it's the crashing!

Sinbad managed to panic Jackie into believing that she'd forgotten to pack her swimming cozzie. Once back home, Jackie just *had* to check. Well, you *do*, don't you? It was a good thing she did. Not because the cozzie had been forgotten (it hadn't), but because the top had come of the sun cream and oozed all over the clothes. Errghh! They all had to be re-washed and re-ironed. Doesn't bode well, does it? Sounds like you need a holiday, Jackie.

Mick's obviously spent the weekend thinking about Leo and Jerome's recent activities. He's picked up on the terms 'coke' and 'gear' together with Gemma delivering packages, the new clothes, CDs, mobile phone and car. The penny seems to have dropped and he's convinced that the boys are into drug dealing. He searches Leo's room but to no avail. He confides his fear to Sin: "Leo's dealing. I'm sure of it." Sin doubts it.

Unable to contain himself, Mick accuses Leo outright. Leo denies it and says that the 'coke' is "fizzy brown [no, black, surely?] stuff we drink when we're thirsty" and the packages delivered by Gemma were merely DJ tapes.

Mick doesn't know whether to believe him. I don't know whether to believe him. Sinbad believed him, though, and gave Mick one of his "I told you so" speeches. Yes, Sin. You're *always* spot-on, aren't you? But we'll see. There's obviously something going on; if it's not drugs, then perhaps it's actually something legal (or legal-ish). Maybe they're selling "The Stones of Jonno"?

Which brings us neatly to Matt and Bosco, who are still preparing their goods and sales pitch ready for the 'hippy chicks' at Stonehenge and Glastonbury. I'm sure that if these hippy chicks had *any* idea what they're in for, they simply wouldn't venture out of their converted buses!

Matt's been working on writing a set of instructions for interpreting the 'signs' generated by the Stones of Shad. Bosco suggests using the school's computer so that they can print the documents in a "funny Druid-style font". Err, yeah.

Whilst talking, Matt has been busy wrapping himself in a couple of sheets ostensibly trying to create a "Druid-style robe".

Bosco doesn't cotton onto the reason for Matt's bizarre behaviour and exclaims: "What *are* you doing?" [You probably had to be there to get the full effect!]

Matt: "These are me Ma's best sheets. Us Druids need robes y'know."

Bosco: "Druids wouldn't wear *pink*, let alone flannelette."

Having given up on the robes (for the time being), the next task is to come up with a suitable name for themselves (I can think of some) and their venture (oh, shame!). Discounting 'The Shadites', 'The Boscovites', 'The Followers of Shad' (rejected due to "sad stalker" overtones) and 'The Believers of Shad', they eventually settle for 'The Disciples of Shad'. I'm not sure that's worthy of all the effort, myself!

With the name sorted, the next stage appears to be to set-up a web site to enable mail-order sales. They've still got no computer, though - the school's will have to do. That's okay, I guess, except for the rapidly approaching summer break. That may cause a hassle or two. But then they can't be gallivanting around Wiltshire, Somerset and Cornwall whilst simultaneously being heavily into e-commerce via a school based PC, can they?

As for merchandise, the current range would seem to include, inter alia:

Stones of Shad T Shirts Stones of Shad earrings Belly Button ring with Stones of Shad attached Ankle Bracelets with Stones of Shad attached Staffs Hoods "Druid's outfit things" (Ahem. Properly know as the 'Robes of Shad', apparently)

Matt and Bosco have particularly high hopes for the ankle bracelets - "hippy chicks love those", but the robes seem to be causing a number of technical problems and are currently on hold. Presumably because Matt hasn't yet worked out how to wear a sheet convincingly.

Anyway, they've consulted the Stones of Shad (like you would; you've got to test drive the merchandise!) and as a result, it appears that the logo (this is 1999 - you've got to have a logo) should be a cross. Imaginative, eh? Oh no, sorry, it was the Stones. Silly me!

I do hope this venture works out. It sounds fun, but there's an awful lot of work gone into it all. You wouldn't like that all that effort to go down the drain, would you? Mind you, I could suggest an appropriate one.