LIFE’S A BITCH
And this episode was replete with bitches of all ages, shapes and sizes - bitches on the rise and heading for a great fall, bitches being shat upon from great heights, bitches revealing their true nature of selfishness and who are - quite rightly - about to leave under a great cloud. Not to mention the return of a veritable MOTHER of all bitches ...
Mike Dikko returns from another stint of nights to find his self-serving, self-absorbed and selfish stepmother with a banging headache, compounded by the fact that Ron is drilling holes here and there for the insertion of yet more safety locks. Mike, as usual, is knackered and laments the fact that he will be unable to sleep as long as Ron keeps that racket up. Anthea rattily remarks that life in the Dixon household is beginning to resemble that of Fort Knox.
Ron finishes his drilling for the time being and greets his son, informing Anthea that the extra locks he’d installed should help make her feel safer. Anthea places both hands on her temples and moans about her headache. Ron tries to be sympathetic, telling her honestly that if he could spare her the ordeal of going through this mess, he would, but Anthea won’t be comforted. Oblivious to Ron’s fate, she begins a litany of moans about her current predicament. All of a sudden, she can live with the threats and the harassment, it’s the thought of going to court and lying under oath that’s stymieing her. (Never mind she chose to be liberal with the truth on numerous occasions with Ron, and even encouraged thick Rachel to follow suit. A lie is a lie, and this one could affect her future. Does she love this man? No. Does she love the comfort and security he provides? Yes).
The thought of facing the judge and jury is simply doing her head in, she confesses. Why, she’s never as much as had a parking ticket in her life and NOW ... Looking at Ron, hatefully, she begins to berate him. Never in all her life would she have ever dreamt Ron Dixon would own a gun. Ron tries to explain to her closed and narrow mind the exact circumstances that drove him to such extreme action, but she won’t be swayed. Finally, giving up all attempt to present his side of the argument, Ron simply asks her if she regrets marrying him.
Anthea, the canting hypocritical bitch, is too ashamed to look him in the face.
Next door at the bungalow, Nikki Shadwick is again assuming her studying pose - seated at the dining room table, in the middle of the house, books spread all around. Nikki must not need peace and quiet to study, much less to do research. Why doesn’t she plop herself and her paraphernalia in the middle of Lime Street Station? And doesn’t she have a room? And doesn’t John Moores have a library?
Raymundo answers the doorbell and reluctantly admits Jerome, who still hasn’t managed to shake spider off his head that makes him look like the gollywog in the jam adverts. Jerome asks a stupid question - like, what is Nikki doing? Nikki explains to the university student, who really should have been able to suss, that she’s working on her all-encompassing psych project - you know, the one the Sage knows more about than Nikki. Jerome remarks on Ray’s standoffish attitude, and again Nikki explains that Ray’s just protective of her since Jerome was caught two-timing her with Nisha. Give him time, he’ll come around, she assures him.
It’s a busy day at the salon, although there doesn’t seem to be more than one customer and only Dire and Emily are working. Emily is talking a mile a minute to the elderly customer who’s waiting for her beauty treatment. Emily is also chewing gum. As Emily increasingly speaks more and more as though she has a gobful of shit, this is the way I heard her monologue with the customer:-
(Screeching Scouse voice): Chang-a-chang-ah -errrrm- eeahhm-oomm-airrrrrh-chhang-a-cheew-cheew.
Dire abruptly shuts her up and asks her to step into the back room for another of Dire’s famous ‘quick words’. Once in the small space, Dire orders Emily to lose the chewing gum; it’s not professional. Emily bins it, explaining that she has a lot on her mind at the moment. However, she doesn’t have so much on her mind that she suddenly offers to do some tasks for Dire - like bleaching the teacups and washing the towels.
Dire is grateful and informs her that rumour has it from one of the other salons in the chain that the owner was due to make a surprise appearance today. They weren’t supposed to know this, but Dire reckons the woman wants to try to catch them out. Emily protests that this isn’t fair, but there’s nothing Dire can do about it.
Life was just so cruel to Timily at the moment - did Dire know, she asks that that Lindsey Corkhill had only gone and tripled their rent at Jimmy’s? Imagine her doing that! Why, they were just a couple of kids trying to get on in life, she pouts. Dire is non-plussed and not very sympathetic.
Jerome and Nikki now sit on the sofa at the bungalow. Nikki is telling Jerome more about her financial problems. She’s got to contact the woman responsible for grants at the uni to have a chat. She’s two terms behind in her fees, and she’s heard that the authorities are looking for people who are owing fees in order to make an example of them, by asking them to leave. So now she’s got to go and grovel for her fees and try to sort out some sort of repayment plan.
The problem is that she has to do this before they send the reminder letters to Margi. Jerome wants to know why Margi should even know, and Nikki explains that she had to give a parent’s address, so her address at school is officially listed as Margi’s Brussels address. Margi would really kick-off if she knew that Nikki had blown her grant and loan on things other than her education. (Why, exactly hasn’t Margi been contributing to her daughter’s education?)
Jerome can’t understand what Nikki did with all her grant and loan money. Nikki explains that she went OTT on clothes shopping, in order to impress him over Nisha. Jerome had really wrecked her hard, she says. Then, of course, there was the trip to Brussels to recover from her break-up. THAT had cost hundreds of pounds. (Er, do these girls travel first class only? Haven’t the heard of cheap fares and the like?) Then, to add to all that, she already owed £1000 on store cards. Nikki is in deep shit.
She continues, telling him that her mate Bernie had already dropped out of uni, because she couldn’t face ten years of being in debt. Jerome apologises to Nikki and tells her he’s really sorry about her problems. Then they end the moan session with a massively boring snog. TPTB seem to have lost their direction with Nikki’s character.
Rachel and Mike are enjoying a rare moment alone, whilst Rachel is preparing to begin her late shift at the bar. Mike is trying to entice her into staying a bit longer. It isn’t as though she’d get the sack for being late, he jokes; and Rachel returns the joke by saying that Christy deserves to be left to hold the fort on his own.
At least Ron and Anthea have seemed to calm down a bit since this morning, says Mike. Now that Ron had finished drilling, Mike could get his head down for some shut-eye. Sitting and watching a security monitor night after night is enough to turn his brain to mush. (At least he’s got a brain to turn to mush, unlike Rachel). He tells Rachel that he’s put a picture of her and Beth on his monitor desk at work. (I thought Mike moved around from site to site).
Rachel asks if he’s forgiven her for telling Anthea about Gobby and Harry’s shoe. Of course he has, says Mike. Life’s too short for grudges. Look at his dad; just look at the strain he’s suffering at the moment trying to handle his daily life, his business, his family and this impending trial, as well as Gobby Moffatt’s continued attempts to threaten Anthea.
Rachel asks Mike what he thinks Anthea will do regarding Ron’s case. Mike replies that she’ll do what any wife would do, he hopes, stand by her husband. (Don’t bank on it). Rachel understands her apprehension. She knows what it’s like to stand in the witness dock in court, with the judge and jury looking at her, as well as the barristers. She remembers what it was like for her. She tried hard not to look at her mother and Beth. She knew what they had done was wrong, when they killed her dad; but she also knew that they had done it to protect her.
Mike remarks that Moffatt is the bad one here, and the jury must see that Ron was only trying to protect his family. In the meantime, they had other pressing concerns of their own - like the default letter that was due any day from the loan company. Rachel said it hadn’t arrived today, but she was keeping an eye out for it, to avoid Ron or Anthea finding it.
Jacqui Dixon-Farnham is unloading the family groceries from the car, when she sees Lindsey leaving Hotel Corkhill for her shift. Jacqui runs after her, asking if she’s off to work. Indicating her uniform, Lindsey replies that that was obvious; but she supposes that smelling of diesel is a step up from smelling of chip fat. Listen, Jacqui says, is Lindsey going to be around later? Only she made such an impression on Sol, that he’s had a word with a mate of his, and he reckons that there might be a job going that Linds might be interested in.
Lindsey is suddenly all ears. Like a Health Club manager? She asks. Precisely, confirms Jacqui. She’ll get the telephone number off Sol and bring it around later, if Lindsey’s interested.
Emily is still wittering on incessantly to Dire about her straightened circumstances. Dire asks if Emily couldn’t emphasise her family history to prey on Lindsey’s sympathies, but Emily won’t have it. They have tried cutting back, she admits, but they’ve cut back next to nothing. She really hates to do this, but the only way out of the dilemma is to ask Dire for a pay rise.
Ron places Anthea’s newly cleaned walking boots on the kitchen counter as a peace offering. He even suggests a New Year’s Day walk in the Lake Country. Anthea confirms that it will be a date. Ron remarks that he only hopes he’ll be able to make it. Anthea, a bit calmer now, admits that she just can’t seem to get her head around the fact about what Ron’s done. Normally at this time of year, she begins to think about Christmas and shopping - it’s only a few weeks away - but now, all her concern seems to be over Ron’s impending court case (or rather, HER role in Ron’s impending court case, never mind the man, himself).
Here follows, a dumbed-down version of the Calvinist doctrine of pre-destination. For all you ladolescents, tweenies, Magic Rabbits’ supporters, and pseuds, that’s a fancy term for ‘fate’, of which Anthea is a morbid believer. She calls it ‘destiny’, however. She’s trying to tell Ron, in a roundabout way, that she doesn’t really want to tempt fate by planning a New Year’s holiday, simply because she thinks that, no matter what she decides to testify, it’s patently in Ron’s cards to get a prison sentence. (And believe me, folks, she’s hoping and praying he gets a life sentence). Trying to act worried and sincere, she says to Ron that, although it may sound cruel, she does believe in pre-determined choice - in other words, that no matter what any of us do, we can’t UNDO the way our lives have already been laid out from birth.
She gives the classic ignorant person’s example of this: A body can get up in the morning, have breakfast, go to work, and get run over and killed by a bus. It’s fate. Nothing anyone can do about it. So, what’s the point of planning anything? (Indeed, why don’t we just sit around and vegetate? And what a great support you are offering to Ron). None of us are in control of our lives - it’s all down to whoever is rolling the dice. In fact, Anthea, who’s become such a po-faced miseryguts when it seems as though she isn’t going to get her way, wonders about the existence of God (not that she’d ever given it much choice before anyway, being intellectually incapable of thinking past her own material comfort).
Ron surprises her by saying that he had questioned God’s existence, himself. As a matter of fact, it occurred when his father died. He relates the tale of how he discovered his father lying dead one New Year’s Eve. Ron became concerned when he hadn’t heard from the old man, and whilst on his way to a New Year’s party, he called in. He had to break into the old man’s home, and there he found him, dead as a do-do.
He then says that as he leaned over the body of his father, with tears in his eyes, all he could think of to say was ... ‘Here’s another fine mess you’ve got us in’.
Anthea dismisses Ron’s attempt at a joke, but Ron becomes serious. If he never learned anything else from his father, it was simply that a person made his own future, through his own will and self-determination. (Another proddy philoisophy - that of FREE WILL). But Anthea is so narrow-minded, she won’t even listen to this theory. SHE believes in fate, therefore SHE is right. There was no point to Ron’s part of the story, she tells him. (And viewers have been conned into believing RON DIXON is narrow-minded. As I said before, there is only one thing worse than a narrow-minded, bigoted right-winger, and that’s a narrow-minded, bigoted left-winger).
Nikki and Jerome have finished their parley, and Jerome asks Nikki if she’s hungry. Nikki declines the offer of going to get something to eat. She’s due to go to work shortly and she’s entitled to Christy’s free menus, she jokes. Now there’s a thought about debt, she continues. Look at Rachel. She works two jobs and she has a kid. Mike’s working nights, yet they are up to their eyeballs in debt. (PLEASE SOMEONE TELL ME HOW THIS IS SO. THEY LIVE WITH FAMILY AND HAVE NO MORTGAGE AND NO OUTGOINGS. THEY SHOULD BE COINING IT, EVEN ON LOW WAGES).
Nikki suddenly comes upon an idea on how to economise. She suggests that Jerome move back into the bungalow with her. (I fail to see how this would alleviate Nikki’s debt problem. Maybe I’m stupid ).
Back at the Salon, Dire is flabbergasted at Emily’s request for a pay rise. When she’s recovered her voice sufficiently, she categorically rules any such rise out of the question. But why? Whines Emily, like the spoilt brat she is.
The two are standing in the middle of the salon, in full earshot of the one elderly customer, who sits under the dryer nearby. Well, for starters, begins Dire, Emily hasn’t exactly proved she’s worthy of a pay rise. He work attitude hasn’t shown it of late, and all she’s done the entire morning is try to butter Dire up.
But, Emily protests, Lindsey Corkhill’s put her rent up.
Dire is openly unsympathetic now. Not Dire’s problem. But then she relents somewhat. Look, she’s willing to give it another six weeks to see if Emily’s attitude and her work improve. Then she might consider a rise.
Six weeks! Screeches Emily. Why, they’d be out on the street in six weeks!
Dire dismisses this statement as an over-reaction. Jessie wouldn’t let her own flesh and blood end up on the street with no place to live, she scoffs.
At that moment, a tall, dour-looking woman enters she shop quietly and listens to the high-volume argument between Dire and Emily. At this point, she interjects to calmly ask that Dire keep private any disputes she may have with her staff. Turning on her heels, Dire confronts her boss ... A woman named ... JOANNE.
If Dire were flabbergasted by Emily’s request for a payrise, Jerome is nearly floored by Nikki wanting him to move back into the bungalow. Jerome stutters and begins to look guilty again. He feels it’s too soon to do this. Nikki was dumped on, and he feels her emotional wounds have yet to heal.
Nikki assures him that she’s getting there. She was devastated at the way Jerome treated her at the time of their break-up, but she’d forgotten all the truly lovely things he did for her ... How he was there for her when her father died, and how he supported her during her rape crisis. She really feels that the two of them are soul mates.
Jerome assumes his usual look of intense discomfort.
After interrupting the dispute between Dire and Emily, the humourless Joanne comes straight to the point of her visit. She’s had complaints about this branch - specifically, she’s had complaints about Dire. Apparently, customers have contacted Joanne, complaining about an excessive number of appointments being cancelled due do Dire being off sick a great deal of the time. These people had expected Dire’s services, and Dire was the manager of the branch ...
Dire begins a feeble protest, saying that she realised she has had an excessive amount of time off. This was due to family illness and other similar problems, she explains.
The Antichrist chooses this moment to trudge morosely through the front door of the salon, looking as though his soulmate Osama had just been captured. Dire rudely interrupts Joanne in full flow and pushes past her to go to Antony. She begins by telling the boy that she can’t talk to him now, ushering him to the door. Her boss is here at the moment, and they would just have to talk at home later.
But suddenly, she looks at Antony and realises something is wrong. She asks if he’s been bullied again, and he droops his head. Looking briefly over her shoulder at Joanne, she explains that she just has to nip home for a moment to sort a family problem out. It won’t take long - just a moment (leaving her customer sitting oblivious under the dryer).
Joanne is shocked as Dire dashes out with Antony, and she calls after Dire, reminding her of her priorities as far as her job is concerned; but Dire is long gone and doesn’t hear her.
And after she leaves, a wondrous thing occurs. Emily, smiling sweetly, says to the woman ,’Would you like a cup of coffee, JAN?’ (Could it be? I wonder.)
Jerome has left the bungalow and Nikki makes a pretence at resuming her work. She asks Ray if he thinks she’s mad to take Jerome back. Ray is sceptical, remarking that a leopard doesn’t change his spots. Although he liked the lad, he did seem to be the type to back off committments.
Like Ray and Rose McGuinness? Asks Nikki cheekily.
Ray blushes, ascertaining that Jessie had told the girl that old tale. Nikki remarks that Ray’s a bit of a dark horse.
Ah, but there was a reason for the Rose McGuinness tale, he says. (The tale, by the way, never gets finished). The tale has to do with the time Ray was doing his National Service in 1955-56 . Those were the days of wine, women and song, he reminisces. Rose McGuinness came along before he was ready to be tied down. Losing Nikki, he muses, seemed to give Jerome a jolt. Maybe it was time the lad had what Emily called ‘a reality check’.
Lindsey is returning from her garage shift, when Jacqui calls out to her from across the Close. She was just coming over to see her, Jacqui says. She has some good news and some bad news for Lindsey.
The good news, says Jacqui, is that Sol’s had a word with his mate, and on his word, the manager’s job at a health centre is Lindsey’s if she wants it. Lindsey’s face lights up. But what’s the bad news she wants to know.
Jacqui hands her a scrap of paper with a telephone number on it, instructing Lindsey to ring the man on the other end of the number to discuss terms. Lindsey looks at the paper and reads the telephone number. It has an 0191 exchange.
That’s right, says Jacqui. The job’s in Newcastle. Lindsey is crest-fallen. She wants the job, but Kylie’s settled and likes her school. And then there was Jimmy to think about.
Having arrived at Sitcom House, Dire proceeds to get the truth about the bullying out of Antony. She had sincerely thought that after the incident with Marty, this would have finished. Well, enough is enough. She was going to phone Mrs Plummer, the head, and make an appointment right now.
Antony is concerned about the salon, however. What about her boss? Won’t Dire get into trouble?
Dire smugly reminds Antony that she IS the manager.
Emily, meanwhile, is doing a subtle hatchet job on Dire and the salon for Joanne-Jan. And Joanne-Jan is acting a mite strangely for a manager too.
She’s looking through the appointment book and musing on the lack of appointments. Of course, they WERE down now, says Emily, but with Christmas close at hand, they should be chokka.
These ‘domestic problems’ of Dire’s, Joanne-Jan begins. Has Dire managed to solve them? And did Emily get on with Dire on a daily basis?
Oh yes, answers Emily, chattily and cattily bland. For the most part, she DOES get on with Dire. The domestic problems? Well, Ant’s a bit off the rails at the moment, what with being bullied at school and all. And isn’t he the cutest thing? Why, he loves the bones of God.
And, Joanne-Jan continues suspiciously, what about the daughter ... Adele, was it?
Oh, Emily continues, Adele’s sound. It’s just great how she’s got over her abortion.
Well, Joanne-Jan purrs, Dire must be made up to have such support from her staff like Emily, who appears to be so sympathetic.
Well, you’d think so, wouldn’t you? Asks Emily. But there Dire had joost gone and knocked her back on a pay rise!
Nikki and Ray continue with their chat until Nikki reminds Ray that it’s time for his favourite telly show, Countdown (yet again, Brookside provide Channel 4 with some free programme publicity. Shame that other programmes on the channel don’t do the same for Brookie). Ray doesn’t mind missing Countdown. It’s been so long since someone in the household paid him any attention, he’s only too glad to sit whiling away the time with Nikki, who really should be studying.
Nikki asks Ray the point of wearing poppies for Armistice Day, and comments that she notices that not many young people wear them. Here follows a subtle statement by the Brookside production team. She mentions to Ray that her nan and her mum always wore poppies (and well, Margi might, as she’s resident in Flanders’s fields). Ray says that Jessie probably wears hers because she lost a sweetheart in the service.
Nikki asks Ray if he lost anyone in the war, and Ray replies that his Uncle Ernie was killed in the fighting. Nikki finds it hard to imagine what it must have been like during the last war, with some people having their whole family wiped out. Ray reminds her that half of her family were killed in the Millennium Club explosion - the menfolk, anyway.
Suddenly, Nikki asks Ray if he thinks she’s nuts for wanting Jerome to move back in. She just feels that she has to give this one her best shot at being a success. Ray isn’t so sure. Jerome’s return could have repercussions, he says. Just think of it - tension, rows, cold silences (thinking of his recent treatment by Jessie) - everyone being excessively polite to everyone else and only making people feel more on edge. Why, it would be just like it was when he was ... living with REENIE.
Well, look at it this way, Nikki suggests, slyly. If Jerome moved back in, then Do-A-Little would have to sling his hook.
Ooh, that would never do, says Ray, ominously. Jessie would go into a black depression of the worst kind.
Why? Nikki wants to know. Because her golden boy would be out on his tod? (And it’s clear that SOMEONE has had a change of mind about the dire doctor and Nikki is no longer even remotely attracted to him).
When Nikki says this, Ray is suddenly persuaded as to the efficacy of Jerome moving in. He immediately agrees to have a word with Jessie about it. And Nikki promises Ray that she’s going out and buy a poppy.
She doesn’t have to, says Ray. He’ll give her his very own.
Back at the Salon, Emily and Joanne-Jan are having a cosy little chat, basically about ideas concerning the salon. For some reason, Joanne-Jan seems very interested in the ideas that an eighteen year-old apprentice might have concerning the business. She wants to know what sort of ideas Emily might have.
Well, errrrms Emily. If she had her way, she’d divide the whole thing off into departments, like - a beauty bar, a nail bar. And all the stylists would know the latest cuts - the way they taught her on her course. (Er, what course? She sold it to Becky Big-Tits. And didn’t Jacqui Dixon organise the salon that way when it was under HER ownership? She even had a piercing bar.)
Not only that, but Emily reckons that the salon could do with a publicity job as well. Take her nan, for example. Her nan’s 62 and she LOVES this place; but her sister, Nikki, who’s a ‘dead gorgeous student’ wouldn’t be caught dead in this place. AND there’s Jacqui Dixon, who owns the health club next door (and who Joanne-Jan should know because she bought the salon from her, but Brookside have conveniently forgotten this) ... She’s got pots of money, yet she goes downtown to have her hair done.
The salon needs a higher profile and to try to attract a better clientele - the local beautiful people (the cast of Brookside?) and the student population.
Jacqui Dixon-Farnham is returning to the Close and getting out of her car, when Raymundo shouts across at her. He understands that she’s going to redecorate her kitchen.
That’s right, replies Jacqui.
Only, Ray continues, this time last year, Susannah had planned on doing the same thing. As a matter of fact, she’d got him to order the tiles for the job and he was about to begin the tiling when ... You know ...
Jacqui takes the hint. How much is Ray owed?
Ray says he’s owed £276.76 for the tiles, but he was going to lay the tiles for nothing, he adds. Jacqui starts to protest that perhaps the tiles wouldn’t be to her colour scheme, but Ray assures her that these tiles would match anything. Just let him know when she wanted to start her decorating.
Dire returns breathlessly to the salon to find Emily and Joanne-Jan have become firm friends. Joanne compliments Dire on having such good support from Emily whilst Dire was so concerned with her children’s welfare. It’s too bad the salon didn’t have a creche to fill Dire’s needs. In fact, says Joanne-Jan, this one here is going to make a great stylist.
Yes, she’s VERY impressed with Emily. As a matter of fact, she instructs Dire to see that Emily gets an extra £1.10 per hour added to her wages, effective immediately... AND Dire is to see that the girl begins to train properly as a stylist. Emily, says Joanne-Jan, is the jewel in the salon’s crown. And Emily gives a dopey-looking full-faced grin that makes her neck look exactly like ET’s neck.
Jacqui has arrived at Ron’s and is thanking him and Anthea for looking after Harry and Emma whilst she’s been out. Ron tells her that he’s glad to have done it, especially as he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to see his grandchildren. Jacqui reassures him, saying that he won’t go to jail; 99.9% of everyone agrees that he is basically an innocent man who acted in self-defence.
Looking pointedly at Anthea, Ron remarks that that won’t be the case if a bunch of bleeding-heart liberals sit on the jury. Someone like Ollie Simpson, for example.
Anthea takes the hint and tries to draw attention to her case, which is - oh, so much more important than that of Ron’s. She immediately starts to berate him in front of Jacqui. (Is this woman so insipidly stupid that she thinks Ron’s kids, his daughter, especially, think negatively of him and will sympathise with her pithy plight?) She starts to wail about how she’s only able to deal with the situation by living just from day to day.
Jacqui replies, quite rightly, by asking if Anthea didn’t think that it just might be worse for her dad? After all, Ron was on trial for his life.
As if they all didn’t know that, remarks Anthea, spitefully. That’s all they ever hear about.
‘Hang on a minute,’ says Jacqui, defensively. ‘This is a serious matter for me dad. Isn’t he allowed to talk about his future and his fears? And remember, he does have a heart condiditon.’
Heart condition? Scoffs the pious bitch, Anthea. He never lets any of them forget that, either.
Jacqui immediately rounds on her vapid stepmother. Errrrm, she begins, in case Anthea can’t be bothered to remember, she’s Ron’s wife. And in Jacqui’s opinion, that means she’s supposed to give Ron her total support before, during and AFTER the trial. (Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings ... Go Jacqui!)
Emily has made a beeline for the bungalow, where she tells Nikki of the news of her impending payrise. Dire’s nose was well and truly out of joint, she says smugly, but as the boss had decreed it, there was nothing the cow could do about it. She was going back to Hotel Corkhill and phone Margi right away.
Well, Nikki confesses, she has some news of her own to tell. Jerome is moving back into the bungalow with her. Emily is shocked and for one blessed moment, we don’t have to hear her awful, grating voice.
After Jacqui’s told Anthea a few home truths, Anthea seeks to garner support from the girl by trying to force her to have a small mind like Anthea. Can Jacqui honestly say that she would get onto a witness stand and lie for Max?
Not even flinching and knowing the secret of Susannah, Jacqui looks her stupid bitch of a stepmother in the eye and answers that she wouldn’t hesitate to lie for Max. Anthea then chooses to dismiss her words out of hand, saying that lying for him would be one thing, but Jacqui couldn’t bring herself to perjure for her husband.
‘Who knows?’ Asks Jacqui, knowingly. ‘Someday I might have to, and I know I would lie for his safety.’
Anthea then callously wonders at how it seems to be a different moral code entirely for the Dixons. Jacqui looks daggers at her, asking her point-blank if she’s referring to her ‘selling’ Harry.
Anthea turns red and looks VERY shameful, trying to curry favour with Jacqui by whining that she doesn’t want to fall out with the girl, but Jacqui’s support for her father meant a cuddle. Her support for Ron meant lying under oath and THAT wasn’t in the marriage vows, she adds piously. (If she had the capacity to really think about it, she’d discover that no kind of lie or deception is covered or condoned by the marriage vows - and she’s done enough of that to have broken her vows, tenfold- plus coercing the brainless Rachel to do the same with Mike).
Jacqui responds by saying that Anthea shouldn’t look at this as a lie. Sometimes, she says, it’s necessary to lie in order to get justice. Ron, at this moment, begins to breathe heavily, presaging another angina attack. Just look at him, urges Jacqui, forcing the bovine cow-woman to look at the man she married. Look at how ill he is. Would going to prison serve anyone any good? She asks. Look how stressed Ron’s become because of all this, and that isn’t good for him.
Ron emphasises that by saying that if he had to serve a prison sentence, he was as good as dead. He wouldn’t come out alive.
Just then the incredibly cowardly, simple and stupid Anthea bursts out with the revelation that Gobby Moffatt would know that she was perjuring herself. Gobby knows she’s lying!
Summary © 2001 Marion Watts
Brookside and all related materials are © Mersey Television 1982-2001