Before I begin this summary, let me say a few words about next week this week. Again, I fear, I’m going to have to use Eastenders as an analogy. Next week on Eastenders, Baby Louise is christened. The happy event takes place next Friday. Louise happens to be the daughter of Lisa and Phil, only Phil hasn’t been told that he is the dad. Mark Fowler, who isn’t the brightest lightbulb in the pack, seems to think that he and Lisa can con everyone in the Square into believing that he fathered a healthy baby via the ‘sperm-washing’ technique.
The unlikely scenario exists that in a close-knit community such as Walford, Lisa and Mark know the identity of Louise’s father, as does Pauline Fowler. Sharon knows (and she lives with Phil), Mel knows and Jamie will shortly know as well. Of course, it’s all leading to a scene at the christening font, when Louise’s true parenthood is revealed.
Is this important? Is it riveting? Not particularly, but Eastenders is turning it into a five-night affair next week, and the result is that it will probably pull in the punters and succeed. Already all the major telly awards are inscribing Jessie Wallace’s name on the gongs for next year.
Now, look at Brookside. In the single most interesting issue storyline of the past three years, the Dixon shooting, the week of the trial finally arrives. Do we get a five-nighter, the way we did with the Jordache set-up? No. In fact, we are about to see the Dixon trial descend into a chaotic shambles of menopausal misbehaviour and the misguided and undoubtedly cruel baiting and blaming of Ron’s daughter for his peccadillos by characters, one of whom reached her sell-by dates in January 1997 and the other of whom should never have contemplated treading the boards to repay his student loans. U NO HOO I MEEN!
Brookside has its chances thrown at the programme and misses them entirely. It takes something interesting and turns it into dross. The infertility storyline comes immediately to mind. They gave us a totally unsympathetic scenario (a woman who’s raised three children as her own as opposed to a truly childless couple) and turned it into a boring conundrum of sitcom, screaming and squelch.
Once, everything Brookside touched turned to gold. Now it debases actors and actresses by dint of association. It doesn’t deserve to succeed. Maybe it’s time it was put out of its misery.
The morning of the trial has arrived and Ron Dixon is doing a mundane household chore - what else, ironing - because he has to be doing something to take his mind off the bother that’s about to descend on him and also because his ninnyish and unpredictable wife Anthea, easily the most idiotic female character ever introduced into the series, is not about today.
Mike has just arrived from his night shift, still wearing his security guard’s uniform. Ron greets him and Mike chastises his dad for doing the ironing. It transpires that Ron is ironing the shirt he’s about to wear at court. Ron reminds Mike that the trial begins that afternoon, so the shirt has got to be ironed.
He asks Mike if his firm were all right about his being a bit late the previous evening. Mike assures Ron that his firm is sound about the tardiness, and he also tells Ron that the lads at work are 100% behind Ron in support of how he reacted to the break-in.
Ron jokes that if he had a jury of 12 security guards, he wouldn’t have to worry about being found guilty.
Mike then asks where Anthea is, as normally she would be the one to be ironing the shirt.
Ron replies that he’s sent Anthea down to the Walk-In Centre for a check-up. She hasn’t been at all well lately. Mike expresses surprise and little sentiment at this. In his opinion, Ron is the one who’s ill and needs medical attention. A lesser man with Ron’s heart problems would have been dead under all this strain. Anthea was just attention-seeking, in his opinion. Besides, Ron wants to remember that Katie’s working at the Centre. There’s no telling what might happen if Anthea decides to open her big gob and give Katie a mouthful of what Gobby told her.
As they speak, Anthea is walking through the door of the Walk-In Centre. Looking up, the first thing she sees is the permanently miserably gob of poor pitiful Katie. Poor pitiful Katie has supposedly been visiting her sister for about six weeks now, but she looks as though she’s been on the beach at Tenerife, and that most of the suntan oil found its way to her hair.
Anthea manages a suitably shameful look that would do Jerome no end of credit and remarks about the cold weather. She then expresses surprise at seeing Katie working today (indeed, working at all - the NHS must be extremely benevolent employers). She would have thought Katie would have taken the day off.
Only this afternoon, scowls Katie shortly. Sorry to have disappointed Anthea. Still snapping rudely at the woman, a fact that would cause comment were it not for the fact that there were no other patients about at the clinic, Katie asks abruptly what’s wrong with Anthea.
Anthea hesitates, thinking maybe she shouldn’t have bothered with the clinic after all, but succumbing to poor pitiful Katie’s ploy of making her feel guilty and uncomfortable. Her ailment is trivial, really, she remarks, implying that it’s trivial compared to poor pitiful Katie’s pseudo guilt trip. She just ‘doesn’t feel right’. She’s sleepy and tired all the time.
Katie puts an end to her list of complaints by demanding to know whom Anthea saw regularly at the Clinic. Anthea stammers that she used to see Dr Roebuck, and Katie interrupts her to say she’d make sure Anthea saw another doctor (big of her!).
Slump-shouldered, Anthea turns to take her choice of seat, but then turns around to face Katie. She tells Katie that there’s so much she wants to say to her.(Yeah, I bet ... Like telling the miserable bitch a lot of crap she has no need to know, betraying her husband and her family because she’s fallen prey to the subtle bullying of Katie Rogers). She carries on by saying she’s nervous about mentioning Clint to Katie, fearful of her reaction; but perhaps the trial would do a lot to prove Clint’s innocence, albeit too late.
Katie shoots the woman a supremely smug look of injured and righteous grief and remarks callously that the only thing that would prove Clint’s innocence is seeing Anthea’s husband go to prison. (Er, sorry, but does this idiotic employee have no immediate supervisor at the Clinic. Such a comment is worthy of complaint, and merits her getting the sack).
Dire and Marty Murray, meanwhile, in a completely different storyline, sit uncomfortably on a wooden bench outside the office of the Headmistress of Brookie Comp. They’ve been waiting a good while and Dire is not amused. She made this appointment a week ago, she whinges loudly at the hapless Marty, and still this woman couldn’t be bothered to see them on time.
Curious about the headmistress, Dire asks Marty what she’s like. Marty shrugs laconically and replies that Mrs Plummer is like any other boss. Well, Dire remarks, SHE’S the boss at the salon. Is Mrs Plummer anything like her? Marty laughs ruefully. Dire continues with her diatribe about having to wait when an appointment was scheduled. The head is in a resource meeting, she whines. Well, it’s about time the head stopped concentrating on resources and helped pupils like Ant. She feels like giving this Mrs Plummer a good piece of her mind regarding the situation with Antony, even if it meant that Marty lost the use of the school gym for his footie training.
It’s not free, protests Marty. The lads still have to pay for the use, only not as much as they’d have to pay for a place like the Health Centre. It’s part of the head’s approach to the school being a community resource centre, run for a profit.
At that moment, the headmistress emerges from her office. She’s in a rush and hurriedly introduces herself to Dire Murray as Jill Plummer. She’s a classic stereotype of a New Labour woman, short haired, tailored suit, brisk, business-like manner. Talking whilst on the run, she apologises for keeping the Murrays waiting and tells them she’ll be with them in a few moments as she scurries off to attend to another last-minute task. She’s effectively put the Murrays on the defensive by her initial behaviour, implying by her mannerisms that she’s got far more important things to worry about than their concern and that their concern is a trivial one anyway.
Lindsey Corkhill stands behind the counter in the garage, a picture of boredom. Jimmy enters, carrying a magazine in his hand. He shows it to Lindsey, telling her that it came in the morning post. It’s a mailshot mag for Holidays for the Over-Fifties. How about that? Exclaims Jimmy. Only turned fifty yesterday and look what turns up today.
Lindsey comments lackadaisically that it doesn’t take some companies long to know when and how to cash in. Jimmy tells her it’s all down to computers - info technology, he describes it. Data mining. But, thumbing through the magazine, he’s struck by some of the offers. Good ones. How about a holiday - just him, her and the two kids. (Yeah, on a popman’s wages and the minimum wage of a petrol pump attendant. I want to work in Liverpool, where everyone is rich and well-off).
Lindsey is less than enthused.
Anthea has managed to see a doctor and guess who it is? AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH! HE’S STILL HERE!!!!! It’s DO-A-LITTLE! She describes her symptoms to him - hot sweats, especially during the night, prickly skin, aching all over.
Er, where exactly DOES she ache? Interrupts Do-A-Little, because he feels he has to.
Well, all over, answers Anthea, stupidly.
Where ‘all over’? He demands, less than patiently, the joints?
Yes, confirms Anthea. And she seems to lose her temper all the time.
Do-A-Little asks if she experiences pain during sex, and the idiotic Anthea indiscreetly replies that she doesn’t remember, it’s been so long.
It’s been a long time since he’s had sex too, confides the Doctor, as ever, extremely unprofessional. But seriously, he tells Anthea that she’s just described what amounts to be symptoms of the onset of menopause.
The imbecile replies that she already knew that.
The Murrays now sit in Jill Plummer’s office, having finally begun the conference concerning Antony’s bullying. Mrs Plummer is heard to ask the Murrays if they didn’t think the encounter between Antony, Paige and Imelda was a one-off affair.
Dire wastes no time in telling the woman that the two girls had repeatedly bullied Antony at his primary school throughout his last year there. As a matter of fact, they had originally attended Blessed Rodney Bennett prior to coming to Brookside Comprehensive and had been expelled from Rodney Bennett for bullying behaviour. Antony had been fine at Brookie Comp until those two showed up last month. It didn’t take Blessed Rodney Bennett long to wash its hands of the two girls. (Probably because this is a Catholic School and Catholic Schools don’t take any shit off bullies. The SCHOOL can bully, but not the students).
But, Mrs Plummer coolly points out, there have been no reports about the two girls having encounters with Antony since they arrived. Marty points out that he had seen the two badgering Antony. Oh, was that the incident in which Marty lost his temper and pushed Imelda Clough? Purrs the headmistress.
Marty briefly looks uncomfortable and then tells the woman that he had previously come across the two girls hitting Antony in an incident on the school grounds.
Ah, but did Marty think to fill in an incident sheet? Mrs Plummer coos.
Incident sheet? Bleats Dire. What’s an incident sheet?
Mrs Plummer explains that that is the only way she has of knowing when students are caught misbehaving on school grounds. Instead of reprimanding them, staff are encouraged to complete incident sheets on student misbehaviour and hand them into her to be dealt with. As Marty had chosen to deal with the ‘incident’ in his own way and time, Mrs Plummer had no way of knowing what had transpired and so, could do nothing. She gives the Murrays a condescending smile.
Dire won’t stand for that.
‘It sounds like a lot of unnecessary bureaucracy to me,’ she remarks, openly. ‘Just how do these incident sheets work?’
Mrs Plummer smoothly explains that when staff see unacceptable behaviour occurring at school, they are to fill in an incident sheet. Such sheets are kept and tallied on certain pupils, in order to see if such behaviour is repeated. If so, she says then the incident is handed over to someone named Paul O’Brien, who appears to be the school psychologist-bod. He then contacts the form teacher of the students concerned, who - in turn - contacts the relevant parents.
The parents are then called in for a conference, where they discuss the student’s unacceptable behaviour. If the parents deny such behaviour, the incident sheets are produced as written proof that the child has been acting out. This is the method she proposes for dealing with Paige and Imelda.
O K, says Dire, suspiciously. So what would happen after all that?
Well, replies the reptilian headmistress, the girls would be punished, of course. By detention or extra work. The important thing is that the school would have to obtain an agreement from the girls that the bullying would stop.
‘An agreement?’ Questions Dire in disbelief. ‘They should be forced to stop!’
Anthea is still conferring with the doctor, who tells her that her menopausal symptoms are probably all the worse with the stress she has been under because of the trial. How long will they last, she wants to know.
From two to five years, he says. But if she watches her diet, eats a lot of fibre, exercises more, drinks less ... It will seem even longer, he finishes, morose and bored. He apologises for that outburst, telling her that the above is SUPPOSED to help. In the meantime, he could prescribe a course of HRT.
Anthea admits that she had some treatment about three years ago for pre-cancerous cells ‘down below’. Could that have had anything to do with this?
No, summarises the doctor, eager to get rid of her. But he’ll also prescribe some sleeping tablets and give her some leaflets to read about the onset of menopause. And once the trial’s over, he says, leading her to the door, he’ll see how she feels.
Jacqui and Max are in the Farnham kitchen, discussing the impending trial. Max ruefully admits that he feels as though he belongs in the dock more than Ron. Jacqui susses that Max feels uncomfortable about attending the trial.
Max agrees. The whole thing reminds him of what happened between him and Susannah. There but for the grace of God, would go Max ...
Jacqui tells Max that she needs his support throughout this ordeal. Just imagine what people would say if she showed up and Max wasn’t with her. Max is reluctant to go, but tells Jacqui that he would do anything for her. He’ll overcome this reminder of Susannah for her benefit.
Mrs Plummer is now trying to spread the gospel of benevolent teaching to the Murrays by telling them how the school would work in conjunction with the incident reports to ‘help’ Paige and Imelda. They would become part of a Pupil Support Programme, she explains to the increasingly sceptical Murrays.
Under this scheme, every teacher would be told about the problem existing between the girls and Ant Murray.
Marty interjects to say that Antony wasn’t keen on that sort of thing, nor was he. He didn’t want the whole of the school to know that Ant was being bullied by girls.
It’s for practical measures, she assures Marty. For example, the girls would not be allowed to sit together in classes -
But the bullying isn’t happening in class, interrupts Dire, it’s happening outside the classroom and off school grounds. Perhaps Mrs Plummer should tell the girls’ parents that what they were doing to Ant off grounds was tantamount to assault and the Murrays were thinking about contacting the police.
Mrs Plummer shakes her head, never losing her condescending smile. If she said that to Imelda Clough’s mother, all the woman would do would be to throw the incident of Marty shoving Imelda, right back in the school’s face. Then it begins to look like a personal vendetta at worst, or a clash of personality at best.
THIS was the purpose of incident sheets, she coerces. Every incident of unacceptable behaviour is recorded. So when the parents come in kicking and screaming about their little darlings being victimised, the school can show them written incidences of their children’s ‘crimes’ - facts and figures, if you will. Looking pointedly at Marty, she summarises, THAT’S what the bureaucracy is for. And she finishes, with a look on her face like the cat that’s ate the canary.
Anthea returns home to find Ron sitting, waiting anxiously for her. Did she see the doctor? He asks.
Yes, she answers, evasively. He managed to confirm a few things for her.
Such as? Asks Ron.
Anthea confesses that she appears to have begun the manopause. Ron sighs with relief. Is that all? Well, thank God for that! He’d thought as much. In fact, he’d been doing some reading on it. THAT went a long way to explain her mood swings of late.
Without thinking, Anthea slaps him across the face and dashes to the door.
The trendy head is failing to convert the increasingly sceptical Murrays. She now offers to put Imelda and Paige on what the school calls ‘Conduct Report’.
What’s that? Asks Dire, dubiously.
Well, Mrs Plummer begins eagerly, each of the girls’ teachers fills in a report on their behaviour for two weeks. After two weeks, the school calls their parents in and the girls and their parents are given Target Sheets - which contain optimum behaviour targets which the girls strive to reach.
Dire interrupts again. She wants Mrs Plummer to know that her son sobbed himself to sleep last night. Her boy had done nothing wrong. Now all she’s asking is that the school, who’s responsibility it is to care for Antony adequately between the hours of 9AM and 3PM, get rid of these evil, little monsters who are physically harming her child.
Mrs Plummer interjects to say that they can’t get rid of Paige and Imelda.
But why? Demands Dire.
‘Because it will cost them money,’ says Marty, sarcastically, before the head can open her mouth to reply. Mrs Plummer, instead, smiles apologetically and increasingly uncomfortably.
Jacqui has entered the garage with Harry and Emma. She’s helping them to select a few sweets for the afternoon. She notices Lindsey standing dejectedly behind the counter, and remarks that Lindsey looks desperate and bored.
Lindsey tells Jacqui that she’s so desperate and bored that she’s actually thinking of going on an over-fifties holiday with her dad. How sad is that? She asks if Jacqui remembers their conversation when Lindsey said that she felt married to her dad. Well, she’s beginning to feel that way now.
Ah, but Lindsey would miss her dad if he weren’t around, observes Jacqui, wisely. Lindsey recognises Jacqui’s predicament and asks after Ron. Jacqui tells her that the trial begins this afternoon. Lindsey is curious if Jacqui’s taking the children to court, but Jacqui says that Rachel will be looking after them. Lindsey asks that her best regards be given Ron, and Jacqui thanks her.
Before Jacqui leaves the garage, Lindsey stops her. Did Jacqui happen to know if the job in Newcastle that Sol mentioned was still available? Is it too late to apply? Jacqui says that she doesn’t know, but promises to check with Sol to see if it was still on the go.
The Murrays are clearly trying Mrs Plummer’s liberal tolerance. She now tries to explain to them, in words that she reckons they’ll understand why she can’t exclude Paige and Imelda.
If she issued an exclusion order today, she says, they would appeal tomorrow and win. All the school could do was proceed along the paths already explained to the Murrays. If worse came to worse, the two girls could be put under an isolation order - taught on a one-to-one basis by a mentor, seen by an external specialist -
‘Given preferential treatment, in other words,’ remarks Dire, sarcastically.
‘Delaying tactics,’ interrupts Marty.
Mrs Plummer begins to get a bit nasty now. She reminds Marty that he was the school caretaker, a member of staff, who couldn’t keep his temper under control and lashed out at Imelda. Mrs Plummer was the one who had to quell Imelda’s parents. Marty was lucky he still had a job.
She calms herself a bit and tries to soothe the Murrays’ ruffled feathers. Look, she offers, the school would keep an eye on the situation and not just wait and see if another incident occurred. These delays weren’t just the fault of the school, she says. They had to work out a discipline code to apply to the girls - work with a committee that included the head of their year and their form teacher. It would include behaviour targets - for example: not talking in class, doing homework and staying away from Antony Murray.
If all of this failed, THEN the school governors would have to be approached about an exclusion order. The Murrays should trust Brookis Comp. They’ve done all this before.
Dire is still not comforted by this. How long will all this take?
A few months, replies Mrs Plummer.
‘Months?’ Exclaims Dire. ‘Antony could be tortured in that time!’
Ron is astonished by Anthea’s physical outburst, but he continues with his line of thinking. She’s arguing all the time because her hormones are all over the place. Again, he reiterates that he’s read up on all this, suspecting that this was what was really happening with Anthea.
Anthea is insulted that Ron should be cognisant of her condition, much less that she should credit her husband with any sort of depth or understanding. It might make her behaviour look unreasonable. She wonders aloud what she’s even doing there? Why is she even listening to Ron? She’s going out, she announces and flounces out the front door.
Mike enters ther room as Ron is gazing out the window after Anthea. Did the doctor know what was wrong with her? He asks his dad.
Change of life, he reckons, says Ron. In fact, she went absolutely ballistic when Ron tried to tell her he’d been reading up on the subject. She’s gone out, continues Ron, and the state in which she left, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever see her again.
The Murrays have finished with the dippy head, who makes Karen Dalton look a good teacher, and stroll along The Parade, in time for Dire to return to the salon. Dire still finds it hard to fathom why the girls’ first secondary school had expelled them without problem.
Marty is beginning to wonder if Brookie Comp doesn’t have some sort of backhand agreement with other schools in the district about taking their rejects. He explains to Dire that the Council fines Mrs Plummer for every student excluded and the number of exclusions figures on the school’s position in the league table.
Well, Dire admits, grudgingly, she supposes that they have no choice but to let the school handle the problem their way. Marty is equally pessimistic. Hmmph! Incident reports and discipline forms! Why, half the teachers in that school couldn’t be bothered with things like that! It’s all about money, he concludes.
Anthea has made a beeline for the surgery and rushes frantically inside, bumping into Do-A-Little. Where’s Katie? She demands.
Do-A-Little explains that Katie’s shift has finished for the day. Could he help her?
She needs to see Katie urgently, insists Anthea.
Do-A-Little says that Katie’s currently in the back room putting on her coat, a major task for Katie, it would seem; but he apologises to the other patients sitting there and ushers Anthea into the room where Katie is preparing to leave.
Without any preamble, Anthea blurts out that Katie needs to be told the truth. Clint, she says, was innocent after all. She continues, telling the miserable younger bitch that Gobby had said that he had actually broken into the house that evening. Clint had followed him and was attempting to stop him, when Ron shot Clint. She thought Katie should know this. She should have told her sooner but -
And suddenly, realising, from the look of pure spite and hate on Katie’s face that she’s misjudged another response, Anthea stops.
How long had Anthea known this? Asks Katie, glaring hatefully.
Two days, murmurs Anthea.
But Katie doesn’t understand ... Why would Gobby tell her this and not Katie?
Anthea tries to explain that Gobby wanted to scare Ron and the Dixons.
Who else knows this? Demands Katie.
Anthea hesitates. Why, Ron and the whole family, she confesses.
Does Jacqui know? Demands Katie, her true motive, being hate and jealousy of Jacqui emerging. Does Rachel?
Anthea admits that both girls know.
Katie’s ugly face becomes uglier. Her ski-lift nose and beady eyes become sharper and narrower. A pointed black hat would not look out of place on her indescribably ugly head. Well, she mutters, they all said Clint was scum - er, sorry, scoom. For moonths, they called him scoom and said that he had no guts - er, sorry, goots. Well, THEY were the scoom.
She announces that she wants the whole court to know this. She’s going to shout it to the rafters in court. And when Ron was found guilty and sentenced to life, she wanted to be there to watch him suffer and squirm. She wanted to laugh in his face.
The absolutely imbecillic Anthea is absolutely horrified at this venom spat by the miserable piece of self-pitying detritus sitting opposite her. Also, it dawns on Anthea that she has now done both herself and her family an irreparable harm. Does she finally realise her stupidity?
Ron, Mike, Max and Jacqui wait fruitlessly at home for Anthea’s return. It’s now very late and they must go. Ron admits that he doesn’t think Anthea will show up. They may as well leave without her. As they walk from the room, Ron stops and gazes silently around the room.
Lindsey has returned home from her shift at the garage to find Jimmy seated at the computer. We glimpse the screen and see that it says ‘Year 0, Day 2’. Jimmy looks up to greet Lindsey. Is she home already? Great. What’s for dinner? Didn’t time fly when you’re having fun?
Lindsey mutters that she’s going to fix herself a butty. That’s all she wanted. Anyway, she thought Jimmy was going to rectify the sorry state of the shutters outside today.
In a minute, in a minute, fobs Jimmy. He’s busy now. He’s working on his manifesto for life, plans to put it on his web page and all.
Well, when he’s done that, comments Lindsey, sourly, maybe then he can get around to working on the shutters. They were embarrassing.
Oh, well, stutters Jimmy. You see, he’d promised to have a chat with Nikki Shadwick about her psychology project for uni afterward ...
Lindsey storms out of the room in exasperation.
The Dixons are assembled in the waiting area of the court. Jacqui is worried about Max’s state of mind, but Max assures her that he’s fine. The important thing is that he be here for her and Ron.
Jacqui mutters despondently that she wishes Anthea felt the same way. What’s wrong with her?
Mike is worried about the time and when Ron’s barrister leaves, having spoken with him, Mike asks his father what’s about to happen.
Ron says that because of the lateness of the day, he would probably only have to surrender himself to the court and have the charges read. After that, they would choose the jury and adjourn until Monday.
Suddenly, the double door bursts open and Anthea appears, in a frantic state. Ron greets her gratefully, asking where she’d been and telling her he’d been out of his mind with worry.
Ron tells her he’s just happy she’s O K and apologises for being out of order before.
‘Oh, Ron!’ Cries Anthea, sobbing. ‘I’ve done a terrible thing! I think I’ve made the most awful mistake!’
Without waiting for anyone to enquire, she tells the assembled family that she went directly back to the Walk-In Centre. There, she saw Katie, and she told her the truth about Clint.
The family are shocked to the core and voice their horror. Mike is overtly taken. What the hell was she playing at?
Anthea witters that she knows she made a terrible error of judgment ...
‘Not only that,’ spits Mike, vindictively, ‘Why didn’t you just shout it from the rooftops!’
Anthea continues babbling that she wasn’t thinking straight -
‘Too right!’ Snaps Mike. ‘But this isn’t some sillyk little, menopausal housewife blubbing! Me dad could get sent down because of you! You’ve dropped him right in it!’
Anthea continues sobbing, to the abject horror of Max and Jacqui, who stand, unsympathetically staring at her.
The Clerk of the Court appears and calls for the Dixon case. Ron hesitates in going, in order to speak to his errant wife.
‘My God, woman, do you know what you’ve done!’ He exclaims hopelessly.
Anthea continues to blub, saying repeatedly that she’s sorry.
Sorry! Too late for sorry! If she couldn’t keep a secret from Katie Rogers, how the hell could she think to stand up in court and stand by him? He TOLD her this would happen!
As Ron turns to enter the courtroom, he tells Anthea that she’s committed
the ultimate act of betrayal on him.
Summary © 2001 Marion Watts
Brookside and all related materials are © Mersey Television 1982-2001