Have you ever noticed how immediately before ‘something big’ is about to happen on Brookside, there’s plenty of action fast and furious? This episode was almost frantic. In fact, it’s the most frantic thing where nothing’s happened since I can ever remember. Does that make sense? No? Well, have a read and consider the scope of legal, domestic and psychological trauma presented tonight as a prelude to ‘something big’.
It’s early morning and Max and Jax are lolly-gagging about in the pre-marital bed that Susannah used to share with Mick, Darren, Greg Shadwick and Max (but not all at once). Entwined in each others’ arms, as most lovers do (not, it’s most uncomfortable, but I suppose someone with the initials P.S. from the ubiquitous news group is going to reckon that there isn’t a person alive who’d want to entwine such an unmitigated bitch as myself in their arms unless it was to kill me), the indulge in an annoying ramble of non-chat. Max is pondering the ponderous ordeal of taking the children to nursery. Jacqui volunteers for the task. Max concedes the point and asks her if she’s still planning on leaving work early (does she ever show her face in a business that ‘ runs itself’?).
Jacqui replies that she plans on leaving just after noon. There’s so much to do, planning this wedding. She didn’t want Max to be lumbered with doing it all, himself. (What is there to do, pray tell? No one appears to be coming.)
Just then, Harry toddles into the room, muttering some incomprehensible toddler talk and smiling idiotically. (Nice kid, but what ever happened to the days when Brookside employed cute child actors? Ever since Ruth returned looking like the little old lady in the Carry On films, these kids have been real Cabbage Patchers - Harry and Wills with their bowl haircuts, I ask you!)
Jacqui and Max invite their son into the bed for a cuddle and more talk about the wedding. Jacqui has a niggling worry. If wicked, evil Lisa, with the pointed nose and shifty eyes, has her way, there won’t BE any wedding, she reminds Max, who pooh-poohs such a notion. But Jacqui reveals that she doesn’t trust ‘that one’ an inch.
Next door, at the prospective Farnham in-laws, Anthea is having a sort out of clothing in the kitchen. She asks Ron if she should put his best suit in for dry cleaning, but Ron pointedly asks for what reason. Anthea replies that perhaps Ron might like to wear it to his daughter’s wedding.
Ron is stubborn. He tells Anthea that Jacqui forfeits any sort of support from him if she proceeds in marrying Max Farnham, and he means what he says.
Later that morning, Jacqui is securing Harry and Emma into the double pushchair, when Lindsey greets her. Smiling, she offers Jacqui her congratulations on marrying Max. Linds supposes Jacqui’s got her hands full with preparations for the big day. Jacqui concurs.
Lindsey then tries to make an apology again, for everything she’s done to Jacqui in the past. She truly wants to make amends and start over again as mates. (When, please tell me, were Jacqui Dixon and Lindsey Corkhill ever firm friends?)
Jacqui makes no bones about reminding Lindsey that it was Lindsey who abused any friendship that the two of them had with her illegal and arrogant actions during the days of the Millennium Club. Lindsey tells Jacqui that that was all in the past. She wasn’t a scally anymore and had learned her lesson.
That’s as may be, says Jacqui, and if it’s true, she’s happy for Lindsey; but it’s too late for any sort of friendship between them now. And she FLOUNCES away with the children.
Lindsey looks visibly upset, more upset than angry, and shouts after Jacqui: ‘Don’t come crying to me when you need a mate!’
The post has arrived, and Ron opens an official-looking letter. It’s from his solicitor, informing him of the date for his pre-trial hearing.
Over at Hotel Corkhill, Jimmy is on the Internet again. He tells Lindsey that he’s trying to send an electronic wedding card via e-mail to Jacqui and Max, at the Health Club’s e-mail address. (Er, by the way, whatever happened to Jimmy’s website that was supposed to appear on the official site?) Jimmy asks Lindsey if she wants to be included in the signature on the card.
Lindsey declines, to Jimmy’s surprise. She wants to sign no wedding card of Jacqui Dixon’s. Jacqui’s living in the past, she says. She’s still harping on about what happened during the Millennium Club escapade; why, she even blames Lindsey for what happened with the legal authorities when the club was shut down for drug-dealing. (Er, who else is to blame, Linds?)
Jimmy suggests Lindsey make amends. Perhaps she should send Jacqui a wedding present. Jacqui Dixon, Lindsey informs Jimmy, is the last bride to whom she’d send a present.
Then Lindsey begins to bemoan her singularly unexciting life, where nothing ever happens. Jimmy rolls his eyeballs upward. Lindsey, he informs her, doesn’t know how lucky she is, especially that she got out and away from that gangster fiasco in one piece and with no after effects. Not like Tim, he reminds her. That kid’s got a lot to learn yet. Anyway, he asks in an exasperated tone, is Lindsey going to sign this card or what? Lindsey simply replies, ‘What.’
The Wicked Witch of the West, aka Lisa Morrissey, has parked her BMW broomstick on the Farnham threshold. But she isn’t looking for the ruby slippers. Max is unpleasantly surprised to see her. ‘Back again?’ He asks, sarcastically. Lisa informs Max that she’s take solicitor’s advice, concerning the long-term care of the children. She reminds him that she is their legal guardian, and she’s concerned about Jacqui’s influence and status if she marries Max. Acting purely in the children’s best interests, of course.
(Question to ponder: Does anyone realise that of the triumvirate of Lisa, Max and Jacqui, Max Farnham holds the weakest position with regard to Susannah’s will? Jacqui is the will’s administrator, controlling Susannah’s business interests and assests until her children come of age; Lisa is the legal guardian of the children, and Max is the custodial guardian. Hence, Max is just a nanny figure. Lisa is responsible for their upbringing and education, and Jacqui is their financial guardian, or Max’s boss, as far as the restaurant is concerned. Another point to remember is that Susannah never legally adopted Harry, so how can she assume parental authority to NAME a person as the child’s guardian in her will, when he wasn’t legally her child at all? Brookside should address this.)
Lance Powell stands outside the Bar, as Christy passes him, on the way in. As he brushes past Lance, Lance is quick to call his attention to the fact that the tills came up short on the float again. Christy stops and glances at him suspiciously. He certainly hopes Lance isn’t implying that Christy’s had his hand in the till.
Of course not, says Lance. Anyway, Christy asks, it’s not his responsibility if the tills are short. Since when does he have the time to check them?
Oh, Lance agrees, Christy is so rushed off his feet ... Not. Lance susses Christy and tells him that the only thing he’s seen Christy do of late is sit around with his hand in the till, lining his pockets. If Bev could see the state of this place - cash only transactions, meat on the menu. He couldn’t wait until Bev found out.
Christy laughs it off, saying he’s quaking in his shoes. And he slopes off into his new domain.
Jacqui walks by at that moment, and Lance stops her. The pair appear to have resolved their differences, although I must say I’ve never heard an apology from Lance for the slagging off he’s unjustly given her in the past.
Jacqui has just dropped the kids at the nursery, and we are about to discover the fate of the late, unlamented Trona, who hasn’t been seen for dust for weeks. Lance asks Jacqui if the fate of the ‘tot shop’ has been decided. Jacqui shakes her head. Trona’s well and truly gone, and the place had a duty manager looking after the children. She supposed the business would have been sold. (Maybe it can be a wineshop again, like it was originally supposed to be?)
Jax turns to go, but Lance stops her. He’s showing friendly. He recognises that he probably wouldn’t have been Jacqui’s choice for best man, but he wanted her to know that he was doing it for Max’s sake. Jacqui agrees, as in the distance, we see Leanne, scowling and stalking toward the pair. Jacqui waves good-bye and Lance calls out that he’ll see her on the big day, just within earshot of Leanne, who can’t believe her ears.
Has Lance actually agreed to be Max Farnham’s best man? Didn’t Lance realise that Jacqui Dixon had lied about Leanne attacking her, resulting in Leanne spending five years in prison? What kind of brother was he? She continues haranguing him as they walk into the bar and join Christy, who’s busy doing nothing as usual.
Leanne carps on about Lance’s decision. Lance reminds her that it was Max who gave him and her a home when no one else wanted to touch them with a barge pole. Leanne doesn’t care. If Max is marrying Jacqui Dixon, then he’s as bad as she is, in Leanne’s book. She turns to Christy to explain that she’s been betrayed by her own brother, as he’s decided to be best man at Max Farnham’s wedding. Christy’s response is to ask Lance if the couple had sorted out the booze for their reception yet. Leanne shouts at the two of them that Lance shouldn’t go out of principle.
Again, Lance tries to remind her of the good Max did toward them, but Leanne adjures that it’s all wiped out now with his association with Jacqui Dixon.
Anthea is getting ready to go out, as Ron stands in the middle of the front room holding his letter. Anth announces that she’s going to the shops. Is there anything Ron wanted?
Ron says he has things more important than shops on his mind. He needs to know whether or not he can rely on Anthea to testify for him in court. He’s been losing sleep over that.
Anthea rhetorically asks if she can rely on Ron? (The truth is, neither can rely on the other, except Ron’s deceipt is out of a misguided sense of protection toward Anthea, and her deceipt is motivated by selfishness). Why didn’t Ron tell her about that gun, she asks. It seems that she can only rely on Ron to lie to her. (It seems that Ron can only rely on Anthea to sneak around, encourage Rachel to lie, and harbour the Moffatts, who don’t give a fig for them anyway).
Anthea assumes the air of a pious hypocrite, asking Ron to put himself in her shoes. Married people have to be able to trust one another, but with Ron, lying is like a disease. (And what about keeping secrets, Anth? Isn’t that reaching epidemic proportions with you?) How does she know that Ron didn’t plan on killing Clint the minute he walked down those stairs with that gun? Ron says he’s sorry about what he did. How does she know he’s REALLY sorry?
Ron loses his patience and shouts at her. He’s telling the TRUTH when he says he’s sorry for what happened. He’s taken a life. That’s something he abhors. And if Anthea even thinks that he could do something like that and feel nothing, then she doesn’t really know him at all. Anthea wonders aloud if she truly DOES know Ron. (Get out, you bitch! You’re tiresome.)
Jacqui Dixon walks serenely along The Parade, pushing Harry and Emma in their pushchair. Unbeknownst to her, she’s watched from a distance by Gobby Robbie the Blobby Yobbie, who sits in his car.
Back at Hotel Corkhill, Lindsey stands behind the counter separating kitchen from lounge. Like two other Brookside females in recent episodes, she’s wielding a large laundry basket. (How long before this becomes a murder weapon in someone’s hands? Jimmy should be careful). Jim, in the meantime, is putting the finishing touches on his e-card to Max and Jacqui. He clicks the mouse and the card is sent, with Lindsey wishing fervently that it would get lost in the post.
As she sorts the Corkhill laundry, she remarks that all this wedding talk is depressing her. She then begins a lament about working at the garage and her unexciting life. Just look at this horrible garage sweatshirt she has to wear, she moans, showing it to Jimmy, pointing out it’s ludicrous logo: Stop for a Sip and a Snack. She wonders if Jimmy’s aware of the number of times some big, hairy trucker stops at the garage, reads the words on her sweatshirt and quips: ‘Got time for a sip and a snack then, luv?’
Nothing ever happens in her life, she whinges. Jimmy gives her an exasperated, but uneasy look, as if he’s suspecting something is about to happen.
Lisa and Max are having what Brookside perceives to be a stereotypical Southern, Middle-Class argument - very stilted, very stiff upper-lipped and very posh. She mentions some legal jargon about Max committing some ‘lawful impediment’ and warning that she would make certain he would lose custody of Harry and Emma if he married Jacqui.
Max accuses Lisa, quite rightly, of hiding behind legalities in an inane effort to rubbish Jacqui. Lisa admits that she doesn’t trust Jacqui’s motives. She thinks Jacqui has no feelings for Max, only for Harry. She points out to Max that she, Lisa, loves Harry too. In fact, she loves him as though he were her own, because he was Susannah’s. (Well, Leese, Susannah didn’t love Harry very much at all).
Oh, she understands Jacqui’s desire to see Harry, she says, condescendingly. But she thinks that was Jacqui’s method of getting her claws into Max; and Max got soft with her because of Harry. Now that common, little trollop wants the whole thing and Max as well. She accuses Jacqui of trying to take over from Susannah.
Max listens to this tirade in wimpish silence, before responding by telling Lisa that it worries him that she can’t be happy for him, now that he’s been given a second chance with a woman he truly loves. Why can’t Lisa be happy, he whines.
Well, it seems that the Divine Miss D has been party to part and parcel of this conversation, as she’s recently arrived on the scene with the kiddies in tow. As she stumbles upon the latter part of the conversation, she, in true Dixon fashion, dives in feet first to make her feelings known. Choosing to answer Max’s question, Jacqui has her own theory as to why Lisa can’t be happy.
It’s simple. Lisa’s got no fella, and she’s a cold-hearted bitch. No fella would stoop so low as to have kids with her. Lisa retorts that that the ‘cold-hearted bitch’ description could very well apply to Jacqui too. Why, what kind of woman would sell her baby and then on the eve of poor Susannah’s wedding, come tearing around causing trouble?
Look at her now, Lisa continues. Jacqui’s taken over Max’s life, playing fantasy future happy families. And how very convenient for Jacqui that Susannah’s dead. In fact, Lisa wouldn’t put it past Jacqui having pushed Susannah down the stairs, herself.
Jacqui is disgusted to hear yet another accusation of murder levelled at her, and she peremptorily orders Lisa to leave the house. Lisa remarks sarcastically that perhaps she’s getting a bit too close to the truth about her sister’s death.
Jacqui roughly grabs the skinny minny by the jacket collar and ushers her from the house, not noticing that Gobby is watching from behind a nearby tree. (Must be some tree to hide his bulk).
Just who does Lisa think she is? Asks Jacqui, once she’s got the woman outside, accusing Jacqui of all and sundry. Lisa reminds Jacqui that she’s the children’s aunt. Jacqui says pointedly that Lisa WAS their aunt. She also observes that no one ever saw Lisa for dust when Susannah was alive. She never came near the kids. Well, when Jacqui married Max, she would be Harry’s and Emma’s mum (sorry, moom). Lisa was to leave, leave now and not come back. She wasn’t to say anything else, unless she said it through her solicitor, or not at all.
And Jacqui walks off.
Max the Wimp, astonished at Jacqui’s ferocity, appears to ask the shaken Lisa if she’s all right, suggesting it’s best that she go; but Jacqui shouts at Max to leave the woman go.
And all this time, Gobby watches.
Poor, pitiful, smelly Katie, trudges across the Parade. Her hair hangs in lank, greasy streaks about her shoulder. If she were a snail, she would ooze slime. She sits dejectedly on a bench in the middle of the Parade, making sure everyone observes the self-pitying wretch.
Jacqui is around the back of the Farnham house with the children, when suddenly Gobby pops his head over the side of the fence. Jacqui is startled, but Gobby asks her civilly not to panic. Max appears by her side, as Jacqui tells him that they have an uninvited and unwelcome visitor.
Gobby assures them he means them no harm. As a matter of fact, he’s come to offer his congratulations. (Sorry, but isn’t he under court order not to come within a certain radius of ANY of the Dixon family?) Max wonders aloud at Gobby’s sudden change of heart, but Jacqui is suspicious.
Gobby confesses that he’s glad to see Jacqui and Max so happy together. In fact, he knew the two of them would get together, when Jacqui dumped him for Mr Right.
Recognising his subtle way of nailing his colours to the mast, Jacqui asks Max to leave the two of them alone for a moment. When Max has gone, she interjects to remind Gobby that, actually, she dumped him because he beat the shit out of her.
Wrong, says Gobby. She dumped him, because she’s a Dixon; and everyone knew what the Dixons thought of the Moffatts. The Dixons look down their noses at the Moffatts for no-account scally white trash. (True assessment). And now she was throwing it all back in his face by marrying Max. It was as if she were dancing on Clint’s grave. He’ll say good-bye to her now.
Jacqui remarks that she said good-bye to this tosser the minute he raised a hand to her. Ah, but she’ll think of him in years to come, teases Gobby. She’ll wonder what it would have been like to have been with him, especially when she has to pick up Max’s pension.
Didn’t she realise that Max didn’t love her? A man like Max would never love a woman like Jacqui Dixon. All Max wanted was some sort of glorified nanny, whom he could get a leg over from time to time. And anyway, the only reason Jacqui was marrying Max was for Harry’s sake.
That isn’t true, argues Jacqui, vociferously. She love Emma as well as Harry.
‘If anything ever happened to either of them,’ she says, ‘I’d be gooted. But you, if anything ever happened to you, I’d run up the flags.’
She continues telling Gobby that she thinks he’s got a serious problem - she’s not kidding, she even tells him he needs professional help. (Big mistake telling him that. But she’s right. The bloke’s a sociopath. Loads of famous sociopaths in the world ... Ted Bundy, Charlie Manson, Hitler).
Max returns at this point, as he senses something is about to develope; and Robbie retaliates Jacqui’s character assessment of him by saying that she’s nothing but a jumped-up little slag on the make from her sugar daddy.
Max tells him forcefully to leave, but before he goes, Gobby threatens to haunt Jacqui for the rest of her life. His last words to her are that she’ll curse the day she met him.
Jacqui and Max return to the house.
Next door, Ron is on the telephone with his solicitor about the letter he’s just received. When he finishes his conversation, he explains the nature of a pre-trial hearing to Anthea. It’s the final hearing before the trial, just so everyone concerned knows that both sides have accumulated all the evidence and are ready to proceed.
Anthea muses that the arrival of the letter and the date of the hearing suddenly make everything seem very real. Ron agrees that the whole thing isn’t going to go away. In fact, nothing will ever be the same again.
Poor, pitiful, smelly, socially-challenged Katie’s mobile rings, as she sits on the bench mutely begging for sympathy. Of course, it’s Gobby. He asks if he can come and see her, at hers. He’s got some stuff to tell her about Jacqui. Katie tells him she’s on The Parade, and glares miserably (her normal expression) about the area as she finishes the phone call.
Elsewhere, in the bar, Leanne and Christy are discussing Lance’s behaviour, as Lance tries to hold the sinking ship together and actually do some work. Leanne wonders if she isn’t bein too hard on Lance and kicking up too much of a fuss because he’s agreed to be Max’s best man.
Christy assures her that she isn’t. Lance was betraying her. After all, Leanne was the one who suffered from Jacqui Dixon’s ‘lies’ in court. (Yet another example of Murray thickness, getting the wrong end of the stick and stirring it). Leanne shouldn’t give into Lance, and that was her problem, Christy analyses. She had too big a heart. (GUFFAW!)
Christy says that Lance needs to understand the concept of families. Families stick together, blood’s thicker than water and all that. In short, Christy observes, there’s no way Lance should be allowed to choose attending Max and Jacqui’s wedding over Leanne’s wishes and feelings.
Leanne peers at Christy uncomprehendingly. (Perhaps her brain’s being eaten by the same disease that’s attacking the brains of Rachel, Nikki and Emily).
Christy spells it out to her. SHOW LANCE THE RED CARD! In fact, he’d been meaning to have a word with Leanne about Lance for sometime now. Actually, it was very hard to broach the subject with her, because he knows how much she dotes on Lance, but well ... The truth is, Lance is very bad for business.
Leanne gives him an even more puzzled look.
Christy elaborates. People have been talking about Lance for sometime now, the punters especially. They don’t like him.
Leanne is confused. She thought everyone liked Lance.
Christy shakes his head. Lance? Why, you should hear the way he bad-mouths people. Both the staff and customers have noticed. Sorry, Leanne, but Christy’s afraid he’ll have to spell out to her exactly what Lance is - a nasty, poisonous, little queen.
Leanne gazes suspiciously at her brother as he serves a customer, uncomfortably aware of her look.
Interlude: Lisa is seen lurking about The Parade, trying to have a conversation on her mobile with her solicitor’s firm. She’s demanding to speak to the senior partner, who isn’t there. She rants about how much she’s paying him and audibly assumes he’s off at the golf course ... Again. She ends the conversation on a frustrating note.
Gobby’s found Katie and sits with the smelly one on her designated Parade bench. Of course, he wants to fill her head with calculated lies, and of course the wretched miseryguts is prepared to believe anything he tells her, quite conveniently forgetting how adeptly Gobby lied to the sainted Clint about her!
It appears, in Gobby’s warped mind, that Jacqui’s been bad-mouthing Katie and Clint. Why, poor, misunderstood Gobby only went round the Farnhams’ out of the goodness of his heart in order to congratulate the couple. And such invective he received from Jacqui.
As he talks to Katie, Ron Dixon passes through the Parade in the background to the couple. He notices their conversation and pauses to eye them, suspiciously.
Gobby continues his allegations. Jacqui said Clint got what he deserved, that he deserved to die. Yadda yadda yadda. Of course, Katie digests every lie with horror. How could Jacqui say such things! In her esteemed opinion, Jacqui needs one good working-over. (So Gobby has her blessing). Jacqui should experience what poor pitiful filthy stinking Katie’s experienced.
Ron continues to study the unfolding scene of connivance.
Jimmy’s packed up the computer for the day, as Lindsey offers to make him a sandwich. She muses about the groups of people and families she sees daily entering the garages. She muses again, about Jacqui’s impending nuptuals and wonders why things haven’t worked out for her. Jimmy tries to comfort her, telling her she’s still young and that there’s still time for her life to sort itself out.
Harry and Emma are playing in the Farnham back garden. Emma is seated at a child’s table and both are wearing paper party hats. Harry appears to see someone and walks, smilingly, toward the person. It’s quite a sinisterly filmed scene, actually, as Harry innocently approaches the beckoning person and walks off.
Inside, Max and Jacqui are discussing the day’s two visitors, as Max pours Jacqui some lemonade. Jacqui apologises for the way she reacted to Lisa, and Max agrees that perhaps that wasn’t the best way to have handled her.
Jacqui replies by demanding to know who exactly Lisa thinks she is, coming around and banging on with her accusations. Why, Lisa hardly put in an appearance before Susannah died.
Max reckons Lisa’s taking her responsibilities towards the children very seriously. Well, Jacqui surmises, she’s lucky nothing worse happened to her, after the way Lisa was levelling accusations. She’s lucky she didn’t get a slap.
What if she had been there when Gobby put in an appearance, eh?
Jacqui then goes into the back garden to collect the children, but Harry’s
nowhere to be found. She calls Max, to tell him Harry’s gone. Max is unbelieving
and attempts to ask the toddler Emma where her brother is. The pair run frantically
around the garden calling for Harry, searching everywhere. In a panic, they
turn to each other, wondering if the little boy has been snatched.
Summary © 2001 Marion Watts
Brookside and all related materials are © Mersey Television 1982-2001