I used to wonder, when I watched Brookside, how they could make the men so negative; but now they’ve managed to do a fair cop on most of the women. I mean, be honest, has ANYONE ever seen so many downright UNLIKEABLE women - Anthea (liar and hypocrite), Dire (selfish and obsessive), Jessie (jealous of her own granddaughter), Brigid (gossiping old goat), Nisha (‘A Whore by any other name could not compete ...’ to paraphrase Shakespeare), Katie (sad, degenerating self-pitying whinger), Rachel (dim, easily led and silly), Adele (just silly), Emily (well, what can you say?) Even Jackie Corkhill is being presented in a negative light. They far out-number the positive females at the moment - Jacqui Farnham, Nikki Shadwick and (surprisingly) Leanne (because she’s vulnerable and to be pitied genuinely).
There ought to be an Unloved Husbands Society formed on the Close. Charter members: Ron Dixon, Ray Hilton, Mike Dixon and Marty Murray - look at the way their wives treat them!
Antichrist Ant is getting ready for school and he’s not a happy bunny. He’s missing his telly, bless’im. So the boy doesn’t spend all his spare time in prayer. He asks, nay DEMANDS, that his older brother, The Plank, move the portable down from upstairs to the lounge. Steve, sitting sullenly across the room from him, mutters that the portable is busted.
Dire and Marty stand uneasily in the doorway of the kitchen, listening to the conversation. Dire nudges Marty and suggests that he tell the boys the bad news. Marty admits to the lads that they won’t be able to replace either the television or the video. The boys are dumbstruck. Naturally, they demand to know why.
Marty explains briefly that the insurance company won’t pay out on the claim. Because of that, and because money was extremely short in the household, they wouldn’t be able to afford either a television or a video.
Before anyone has time to reply, Antichrist Ant wails unthinkingly: ‘Boot, how can we live without a telly?’
The Plank observes, accurately and acerbically, that it’s odd how there wasn’t money enough for a televison and a video, but there was always money found for IVF.
Taken aback, Dire shouts defensively that this IVF treatment is their last chance for a baby (something that the majority of the family feels they don’t need, but only one has the courage to express that).
The sanctimonious little religious bigot shushes his older brother piously, assuring Dire that the family was now quite able to live without a television for the time being. After all, Dire’s baby was the most important thing.
In a sickening display of sentiment, Dire plants her ample arse on the arm of Antichrist Ant’s chair, careful not to tip the balance, and covers his forehead in gooey, thankful kisses. (Puke, puke, puke).
Over at the Dixon household, Ron is regaling Mike with the details of his latest run-in with poor pitiful Katie from the day before. Mike is flabbergasted that Katie tried to deny treatment to Ron. How dare she? Well, Ron chides, with any luck that boss of hers will have got onto her case, and she should have received the sack by now. Mike agrees wholeheartedly. At that moment, the doorbell rings and Mike answers it, only to find Tim on the doorstep.
Tim asks Mike what he has planned for the day. Mike, as per usual, has nothing planned, except freeloading around the Dixon household. Tim fishes in his pocket and shows him the advert for Security Guard that Jimmy has given him. The firm in question was holding open interviews all day. Tim was going and thought Mike would like to come as well.
Mike thinks this is a wind-up. Him? A security guard? One problem there - he had yet to retain his full mobility after his accident. But Tim thought Mike was desperate for a job. It’s a day out at least. Mike decides to grab his jacket and go with Tim.
Jessie and Brigid are enjoying a goss as they clean the bar. Brigid is telling Jessie, but EVERYTHING about Adele’s encounter with Bullethead and Baby Bro Thugfest ... How Marty and Dire returned to find the two lads in Adele’s room with her and Michelle. The very cheek of that! She exclaims and Jess agrees. You would have thought that Adele would have learned a lesson from the last time, she says. And doing something like that in her parents’ house. In her day, says Brigid, you got up to that sort of thing behind the bike sheds or down an alleyway. (Did you, Brigid? Do tell.)
Jessie is astounded. And it was these same two lads who robbed the house? She asks. The very same, confirms Brigid, and good mates of your Tim’s and all.
Jessie digests the remark and replies with a dig of her own. Well, Brigid’s Steve hasn’t got much taste in the way of his new girlfriend, she smirks. Nikki had told her about how he was engrossed in a full snog with that Nisha from the medical centre in full view of the whole bar yesterday. All over each other like a bad rash, they were. (And you’ll probably find they have a bad rash and all as a result of that!)
‘You mark my words,’ warns Jessie. ‘That one’s nothing but trouble. She’s into all sorts and has absolutely no morals.’
Brigid nods grimly. She recalls Jessie saying that Nisha was the one carrying on with Jerome when he was seeing Nikki.
At that moment, there is a sound of someone clearing his throat from behind the two women, and turning, they see Christy has entered the bar. He makes a sarcastic remark about them working hard. Christy takes the opportunity to ask Brigid about the robbery at the Murrays’ and their insurance claim.
Oh, hadn’t he heard? Asks Brigid, eager to impart some new piece of gossip. The insurance company isn’t going to pay a penny.
Suddenly alarmed, Christy runs from the bar.
The camera pans across a filthy, dirty, smelly, untidy bedroom and rests on a digital clock which reads 11:15AM. No surprises that it’s the bedroom of poor pitiful, smelly, stinky, pukey, barfy Katie, who lies drunkenly comatose dressed in her work clothes from yesterday. An empty vodka bottle and glass lay randomly on the floor. Pushing herself into a woozy vertical position, she focuses unsteadily on the clock. Realising the lateness of the hour, she struggles up from the bed and out into the day.
Christy Murray knocks frantically on the door of Hotel Corkhill. Jimmy answers. Christy doesn’t beat around the bush: ‘Where’s that thieving, little git what rents a room off yer?’ He demands.
Jimmy immediately realises that Christy is looking for Tim. He’s out, Jimmy informs him. Why is Christy looking for Tim?
Christy tells Jimmy that Tim’s only gone and robbed Marty, and when he finds him, Christy’s going to kill him.
Tim and Mike sit in the waiting area of the security firm, completing their application forms. Mike jokes that he reckons the job will pay about two bob an hour. Anyway, he reckons he doesn’t stand a chance - I mean, who wants a security guard who can’t run?
Tim is anxious to get the job, not the least because it will mean getting Jimmy off his back about going to work. Mike just wants to get the dole off his back.
The interviewer appears in the doorway and calls for Mike to come in. Tim wishes him good luck.
Katie has now made it to the surgery. Presumably Nisha has covered for her absence. It’s now nearly 2:00PM, the time Katie has to be in the offices of the practice manager. As she readies herself to depart, she apologises to Nisha for her attitude to her the day before. She lost it, but Nisha forgives her. She knows the pressure that Katie’s under at the moment. (WHAT PRESSURE? ALL KATIE’S PRESSURE IS SELF-INFLICTED!!!) And what’s more, Nisha is certain that the practice manager knows the pressure Katie’s under as well. Katie is confident. She’s sure the woman will be OK, once she hears Katie’s side of the story.
As poor pitiful, slaggy Katie leaves the surgery, The Plank plops in and props himself onto the reception desk. Nurse Piggy pretends to be highly occupied with a patient’s chart. He begins by asking where Katie’s off to this afternoon.
Not even glancing at him, Nisha explains that she’s off to a disciplinary hearing with the boss. Did The Plank need anything? A splinter removed, perhaps?
No, Plank just dropped by to say hello. Is Nisha by any chance, due a break soon? Negative reply. Well, how about a drink later? Sorry, says the hard-to-get whore, she has plans. Looking downcast at being knocked back, The Plank turns to go.
Nisha pulls her ace from her sleeve. She has nothing planned for the next evening. How about they get together then? His faith in womankind restored, Plank promises to see her then.
Jess has just returned from her cleaning job, and Nikki remarks on how nice she looks. Is her hair all done up for Ray, by any chance? (As if). Jessie laughs and denies this. Good, says Nikki, because he isn’t worth it. No man is. She learned that yesterday.
Jessie asks where everyone is, and Nikki tells her that Ray is in the garden and Do-A-Little is asleep, as he was on nights. Hearing his name spoken, Do-A-Little makes what the producers reckon is a sexy, provocative entrance, tousled of hair, sleepy of eye, and buttoning his shirt.
Jessie twitters almost incoherently at the sight of him. Oh, he’s awake. And she was just about to knock to wake him up. Well, damn, he flirts shamelessly (and I realise now that every Good Ol’ Boy from Maryland to Alabama to the Gulf of Mexico is descended from some Scouser thieving git, sent off as a convict in the colonial new world), now that was something worth staying in bed for! Jessie giggles shamelessly, but by now Do-A-Little has turned his attention to Nikki, noting that she appears a bit down.
‘What’s up with you, Faceache?’ He teases.
Before she can reply, Jessie informs him that Nikki’s had a falling-out with her boyfriend. EX-boyfriend, Nikki reminds her grandmother, and she proceeds to warn Jessie against any more hare-brained ideas of wild matchmaking.
Tim has been called for his interview. The interviewer tells him that the security firm is a family-run firm, but quite big, covering the Liverpool and Manchester areas. Some weeks their personnel find themselves on duty at a department store downtown, other times guarding a large container in the docks area. They are big on promotion and like to move the more able staff up the ranks.
He asks Tim why Tim reckons he would make a good security guard. Tim replies politely that he can handle himself well under pressure and he knows the score, which seems a commendable answer to the interviewer, although it says nothing in reality.
He notices, however, that Tim has no qualifications, although that shouldn’t make any difference. He believed in giving people a chance, if they showed willing. Now, he wanted to get down to the real - nitty-gritty: the pay scale.
Tim interrupts him. He has to tell him something, something that he didn’t put on his application form. He has a record.
A prison record? Queries the interviewer, his friendly demeanor suddenly becoming more cautious.
Yes, says Tim, a young offenders’ prison. But the man had said he believed in giving someone willing a chance. Would this make any difference? The interviewer noticeably hesitates, but says this revelation wouldn’t make any difference in Tim’s chances.
Tim is naive enough to be relieved, promising to work hard.
Brigid has arrived at Sitcom House, greeted by Dire. Without as much as a by-your-leave, she launches the latest gossip at her daughter. Was Dire aware that The Plank was courting again? Before Dire can open her rigor mortis mouth, Brigid informs her that the lad’s only seeing ‘that one’ from the medical centre.
Jessie Hilton told Brigid all about HER. Says she has no morals whatsoever.
Perched on a sitcom stool at the sitcom table, Dire issues a verbal plea for Trona to come back into Plank’s life. She knew he’d seen that Nisha one once ages ago, but didn’t think anything came of it. He sure can pick them, she remarks.
Nikki and Do-A-Little sit ensconced before each other, being watched by Jealous Jess in the background. Nikki is telling Do-A-Little all about her encounter with Jerome the previous day, how he sat in the bar the entire evening eyeing up the girl with whom he had two-timed her.
What did Nikki do about it? Asks Do-A-Little.
Got up, walked home and cried for three hours, answers Nikki.
As she notices the younger man tenderly reach out and take Nikki’s hand comfortingly, Jealous Jess interrupts the conversation to inform Do-A-Little that his brunch was ready. Ray enters from the garden and comments on the appetising smell of the food. He reaches for a plate heaving with goodies.
Jess smacks his hand sharply and curtly tells him that she has cooked the meal for Do-A-Little. She’s made Ray a plate of cold sarnies.
‘But why does HE rate a full-cooked English and I get only sarnies?’ Wails Ray, plaintively.
‘Because HE pays rent,’ snaps Jess, as she places the heaped plate lovingly in front of Do-A-Little, ‘and HE has a name.’
Ray is visibly shocked.
As they wait for the results of their job interviews, Tim tells Mike that he told the interviewer about his prison record. He seemed cool about it, Tim says, confidently. Tim just wants to get a job sorted, so he and Emily could get a home of their own.
At that moment, the interviewer appears at the door. There were so many applicants, worthy applicants, he says, for only two jobs. It was a tough decision, but he had decided that the two jobs would go to Mike Dixon, and an older geezer named Dan Connolly. Mike offers Tim his condolences, but Tim isn’t surprised. What else is new, he remarks.
Brigid, Dire and The Plank sit uneasily at Sitcom House, Brigid and Dire feeding their fat faces. Raising her eyebrows over her glasses at Steve, Brigid remarks pointedly that she hears The Plank has started a new romance.
Dire puts her tuppence into the fray by mentioning the fact that she knows the girl is Nisha. Did The Plank know how old she was?
Plank shoots his stepmother a narrow glance. Why does she want to know?
Just wondering, says wide-eyed Dire, innocently. She warns The Plank to be careful. She’s worried about him. After all, that Nisha one has a reputation.
The Plank is more than just a little disgusted. That’s Dire all over! He exclaims. She just loves to be in control of everything and everyone in this family. And he artlessly flounces from the room.
Back at the Shadwick Hiltons’, Do-A-Little does a little crawling to Jessie, offering to wash up for her. No need for that, smiles Jess dreamily, that’s what Ray’s for. Over his shoulder, Do-A-Little remarks to Ray that Mrs H is his perfect woman; his only regret is that she’s already spoken for. Jess laps it up like a cat lapping cream.
Ray asks Do-A-Little what his agenda for the day entails. Do-A-Little replies that he has to do a little work at the Walk-In Clinic this afternoon and he was on call again tonight. Ray has a request. He was wondering, he begins, hesitantly, if Do-A-Little would mind maybe taking Nikki out sometime soon. A day out, perhaps. The girl needed cheering up.
Now that’s just what the doctor was hoping to order and have served up on a plate to him. Without hesitation, he responds that he would be well up for that.
Jessie, however, abruptly interrupts the pow-wow. Nikki wouldn’t want that, she says, harshly. She isn’t interested in men. She told Jess yesterday. (So, is she interested in women then, Jess?)
Mike and Tim walk back along The Parade. Mike tells Tim that he feels bad that he got the job and Tim didn’t. He was actually surprised at getting offered the job, considering his state of health. Tim isn’t worried and is taking it in good grace, when he suddenly receives a text message from Emily.
As he’s answering the message, Christy Murray spies him and jumps him viciously, pinning him against the wall. At the top of his voice, Christy regales Tim with accusations of having robbed the Murrays. Tim matches him shout for shout, saying he never robbed the Murrays, he robbed the robbers.
Back at the bungalow, Do-A-Little emerges from the bathroom, having completed his ablutions. He announces that the bath’s free. Nikki remarks that it’s about time. And Do-A-Little replies that it’s about time Nikki stopped feeling sorry for herself. How about a trip to the Lakes?
Now? Asks Nikki.
Not now, says Do-A-Little. How about Friday? A day out?
Nikki demurs, uneasily, as Jealous Jess gives her a hard stare.
That’s a pity, smarms Do-A-Little, because he was looking forward to a day out with a beautiful blonde like Nikki. Suddenly Jess suggests that they all go, all four of them. Nikki likes that idea, but Ray poo-poohs it. Of course they shouldn’t go, he says to Jessie irascibly. What makes her think that two young people would want to spend the day swanning around with two wrinklies? The young couple should go on their own.
Tim, cornered by Christy, is relating to him how he came to have the gear stolen from the Murrays. But, Christy asks, if Tim SAW the duo running from the Murray house with the stolen goods, why didn’t Tim stop them or say something to Marty?
Tim’s not a grass, he reminds Christy. Anyway, why can’t Christy just give the stuff back?
Christy admits that he’s sold the gear. Well, anyway, says Tim, blithely, the insurance will pay out.
That’s where you’re wrong, says Christy. They won’t.
But Christy has a little job for Tim, in order to rectify the situation. He’s got an idea. Tim will go back to the Murray house and break in. Create a little disarray to look as though there’s been a burglary. The Murrays will return, call the police and - hey presto! - new valid claim.
Tim is reluctant. What if he gets caught? Christy assures him that he won’t. Well, in that case, asks Tim, why can’t Christy do the job? Because Christy is going to be busy keeping the Murrays busy and out of the house, he explains.
Tim says this will cost Christy. Christy objects, saying Tim had already got £140 off him, but he relents and says he’ll pay Tim 20 quid. Tim wants sixty. Christy offers thirty. Tim suggests fifty. Muttering that Tim will bankrupt him, Christy agrees.
‘Well then,’ quips Tim. ‘Get the ale in.’
Mike is telling Ron about finding a job, and Ron is less than impressed. A security guard? He remarks, disdainfully.
Mike points out that it’s a job.
Yes, Ron agrees, but reminds Mike, quite correctly, that Mike has a degree. He should be a teacher or a civil servant, something like that. Nothing so menial and underpaid as a security guard.
Mike euphemistically tells Ron that this is the first step toward his and Rachel having a place of their own.
What? Exclaims Ron, in disbelief. What was this pair playing at? A place of their own? As if. Look at the set-up they have here now, he accurately points out. They pay little or no rent, their tea’s set on the table every evening, and they get all their washing and ironing done, not to mention free babysitting. Why, compared to a place of their own, he chortles, this is a bloomin’ holiday camp for Mike and Rachel.
Mike storms off angrily as the doorbell rings and Ray enters. Noticing Mike’s mood, he asks Ron if he had come at a bad time.
‘Every time’s a bad time in this house,’ remarks Ron.
Ray notices that Ron looks stressed these days. He’s come to make a suggestion that might alleviate that stress. Putting his hand on Ron’s shoulder, he says he wants to spend some quality time with Ron. Ron gives Ray a bemused look, before Ray adds that that quality time would also include Anthea and Jessie as well. Something that would put a little romance back into their lives. Ron smiles at Raymundo hopefully, awaiting his suggestion.
Tim returns home to Hotel Corkhill, munching a bag of chips. Jimmy bids him good afternoon and informs him that he had a visitor earlier in the day. Christy Murray had come looking for Tim, something about Tim having robbed Marty Murray. Now what was that all about?
Tim tries to avoid the issue, telling Jimmy that he didn’t need to know about that.
‘If you live in my house,’ advises Jim, ‘too right I need to know what’s going on.’
Katie has returned to the clinic from her meeting with the practice manager. Nisha wants to know how she got on.
All right, lies Katie, falsely bright. The practice manager was real sympathetic. Katie simply told her what happened and she understood.
Well, that was a first, remarks Nisha in surprise. Perhaps the woman wasn’t such a wicked witch after all. She offers to put the kettle on, as Katie returns to her desk. Alone for a moment, Katie reaches into her bag and extracts a document. It’s an official written warning about her conduct and attitude from the practice manager. Any more like shenanigans and she’s out on the trot. She stares at it, before Nisha pops her head around the door to ask if Katie wants tea or coffee. Katie just manages to hide the letter.
Tim is explaining Christy’s proposition to Jimmy, telling him that the phoney robbery is for insurance purposes. What if Tim gets caught? Asks Jimmy. Tim assures Jimmy that that won’t happen. That’s just what he used to say, himself, Jimmy remarks. Why, Tim got caught only last year.
Tim reminds Jimmy that he only got caught because he turned himself in. He thought he was doing someone a good turn, but that didn’t turn out to be true.
But Tim doesn’t need to go back on the rob, says Jimmy. All Tim needs to do is get a job. What happened at the security job interview today?
Tim hopelessly explains that he tried to be honest and on the level with the interviewer, even told him he’d done time. But once the fellow found out that Tim had a record, he didn’t want to know. Same old story.
Jimmy tries to encourage the lad. Tim just can’t give up, he says. Someone out there will take him on. Someone will see his good qualities. All he has to do is keep on filling out more and more job aps, and something’s bound to come his way.
What? Tim demands. He wants respect, not some job washing glasses in a pub and not being allowed near the till for fear of dipping his hand inside.
Recognising the dig, Jimmy replies that his job is an honest living. But Tim says that he wants more.
Robbing isn’t the answer, advises Jimmy, Sage par excellence of Brookside Close.
Closing all discussion, Tim finishes by saying the job is a favour to Christy.
After Plank has plonked from the room, Brigid tries to comfort Dire, saying that she’s certain Plank didn’t mean to upset her with his remarks. But Diane assures her mother that it isn’t Plank that’s bothering her.
Not that husband again? Brigid questions, suspiciously.
Dire is forced to admit that she’s having second thoughts about the IVF trial. The second attempt at implanting eggs is due to take place in a few days time and she’s supposed to have peace and quiet. It just seems that every time they attempt this procedure, something stressful happens. She’s thinking about delaying the procedure for a few months, until everything had calmed down a bit.
Guiltily, she reckons that the kids are due a break from all this strife. Brigid glances out the window and notices Christy approaching. Here comes trouble, she remarks, ominously.
Dire answers the door, and Christy, seeing Brigid, asks if she’s all right.
‘I was until I saw you,’ says Brigid.
Christy’s after Marty, but Dire says he’s not home from work yet. Does Christy want to wait? At that moment, Marty approaches, and Christy, taking him aside, says he wants a word with him.
Once out of earshot of Dire, Christy announces to Marty that he has a plan that would put an end to Marty’s troubles. What would Marty say, he says, if Christy knew someone who would be willing to break into Sitcom House and make it look like a real robbery? That way, Marty could make a claim that WOULD be upheld.
Marty is reluctant, thinking someone might find out. Who will know? Asks Christy. Christy might just know someone willing to do that. Just make sure, he tells Marty, that everyone’s out of the house tomorrow evening.
Interlude: Raymundo leaves the Dixon house and Ron on the doorstep, agreeing to meet tomorrow at 10:30 for a day out with the wives.
Christy, having left Marty, calls at Hotel Corkhill. Glancing surreptitiously around, as Tim answers the door, Christy warns him that it isn’t good for the pair of them to be seen together. He informs the lad that he’s sorted everything with Marty. All Tim had to do was effect the break-in, and be done by closing time at the bar. But Tim was not to take anything.
As Christy leaves, Tim asks for the promised fifty quid. Christy tells him that he’ll have it by the end of the week. Tim demands payment up front, but Christy says no pay until the job’s done.
Poor pitiful sad, stinking, lonely, wallowing Katie sits dejectedly in her room, staring at the official written warning. An empty vodka bottle still lies on the floor. Nisha calls out and knocks on the door. Katie delays her for a minute, pushing the bottle aside on the floor so Nisha won’t see it.
Opening the door, she sees that Nisha is dressed to the nines and ready for an evening out. Is Katie certain she won’t come too?
Katie cries off, as sad music wafts in the background on her CD player. She’ll see Nisha in the morning. She closes the door and walks back toward her bed, not looking where she’s placing her feet. Unbeknownst to her, the wicked, evil bottle has rolled from under the bed. She plants an unsteady foot on it, slips, falls, hits her head and is knocked doo-lally.
Summary © 2001 Marion Watts
Brookside and all related materials are © Mersey Television 1982-2001