Ever watch a television programme or a film and feel you know the score even before the ending? That’s the way I felt watching Brookside last night. I don’t feel particularly humble at all, knowing that at least some of the writers and production bods (at least in the new reign, it seems) lurk in the shadows of the forums et al and then incorporate the ideas, observations and assumptions of the viewers. Shame it isn’t done more.
And a question ... I noticed last night that the man who gave us teenage nymphets and lipstick lesbians on the Close is FINALLY not being listed as Series Producer anymore. Instead, Brookside has a SENIOR producer now. Uh-oh. No Series Producer appointed ... Writing on the wall?
Still, I noticed as well that, in the midst of what is probably the most important issue storyline Brookside has covered in years, we still had a lingering, drawn-out departure of Claire Sweeney, complete with too-tight tops, protruding, implanted breasts and nipples.
Good luck to her, after the untold damage she did to a once-good programme. Let’s just hope that Brookside’s still around for her to come back to, after the three-month stint in the West End, the return of Davina McColl from pregnancy leave and the inevitable closure of Marks and Sparks.
This episode opens with a shot of a dishevelled, unshaven Ron Dixon, standing morosely and pensively by the side of the Mersey River, in broad daylight, at the docks. He gazes down into the murky depths and seems to lean slightly forward, as if contemplating throwing himself into the mire.
Back at the Dixon House of Horrors, it’s early morning, and Rachel the Dim has wandered uncomprehendingly (as per usual) into the Dixon lounge, wearing a an sleepy version of her slightly baffled look and a pink fluffy dressing-gown. Mike Dikko is sat at the dining room table, head in hand, and obviously stressed out. It’s clear that he hasn’t been to bed or to work all night.
Rachel asks a particularly stupid question. Has Mike heard anything from Ron? (Stupid, because if he had, he would have alerted the household). Mike confirms that no word was forthcoming from his father. Ooooh, remarks Rachel, she thought at least he might, sorry, m-eye-ght, coom home in the n-eye-ght. Then a rare thing occurs ... Rachel has an idea. Ooooh, Mike didn’t think Ron would do ‘something stupid’, did he? (What? Sing along with Robbie and Nicole? You must be joking!)
Has he thought to call the hospitals or the police? His wife’s inability to be anything more than dim is too much for Mike to take. THE POLICE?! He both questions and exclaims. They are the last people he would call. He tells Rachel to just leave the subject (if she can’t be bothered to understand it). By calling the police, he would only lead the bizzies to believe that Ron had done a runner.
Ron is still standing by the Mersey at the docks. We know this because the camera has panned back to allow a picture of the fabled Liver Birds building in the background. He pulls out his mobile phone (a device I never knew Ron Dixon to have) and is alerted to the fact that he has apparently received innumerable text messages - from his wife, his daughter and his son-in-law.
Back at the Dixon abode, Jacqui has come over at first light of day. Anthea sits distractedly at the table now, wearing the bathrobe she inherited from Jackie Corkhill. (As Anthea’s departure is imminent, I wonder who will inherit this item of clothing? I nominate Rachel). Jacqui tells the assembled multitude that she and Max have sent dozens of text messages to Ron, but haven’t received a reply. Anthea says she’s been doing the same. She’s extremely worried, especially as Ron is due to return to court for the summing ups this afternoon.
Jacqui remarks to Mike that things were bad enough without this happening. Ron’s case didn’t look good at all, especially after the disaster that occurred the previous day, and she glances sidelong at Anthea. Anthea, looking guilty, quickly springs to her own defence. Jacqui didn’t realise how unnerving being questioned by a barrister was. She felt that she did her best, she just couldn’t think quickly enough to keep up with him. Anyway, as if by means of amending things, she has an idea. She’s going to phone Ron’s solicitor and ask for an adjournment or something.
Is she crazy? Exclaims Mike. Does she REALLY want Ron out of her life that much? That would be really great. Ron would stand NO CHANCE if she did something like that. If the solicitor gets one sniff of the fact that Ron can’t be found, Ron’s case would be finished.
Ron, meanwhile, has decided to open some of his text messages. Reading the words of encouragement from Jacqui and Max, the tears roll down his cheeks.
Over at Hotel Corkhill, two of the guests are checking out. No, it’s not Timily (wishful thinking); it’s Lindsey and her Cabbage Patch companion, Kylie. Lindsey is furiously packing suitcases. She has decided to up stakes and leave for Newcastle and her new job immediately, without a place to stay or anything, as you do.
Jimmy hovers about, asks her if she’s thought thoroughly about this move. After all, her new job doesn’t start until Monday. Lindsey stands up, revealing to the world that she is actually wearing one of Kylie’s tops. It shows everything and leaves little to the imagination about her two breast enhancements. We get a treat of a storm in a D-cup, replete with erect nipples. (Are you happy to see me, boys?)
Well, Linds witters, at the moment, all she had in Newcastle was a grotty B & B room. She had to start looking for a place for her and Kylie to live. (What about furniture?)
But, protests, Jimmy, what about Kylie’s school? She can’t mean to keep the kid away from school.
Lindsey, knowingly, remarks that Kylie won’t miss anything. It’s only about a fortnight before she breaks up for Christmas anyway.
Ron still stands by the Mersey in the docks, only this time, he stares at the ferries coming into port from Ireland. He pulls out his mobile and we see him key in Jacqui’s mobile number.
Back at home, the Dixons are racking their brains about where Ron could be. Jacqui wonders if, perhaps, he happened to return to their old home. Mike dismisses that. Ron hated that estate. He wouldn’t go back there. Then Mike wonders if Ron could have returned to the old factory where he formerly worked. Just the other day, he and Ron were out when Ron insisted on driving by the place, all the time reminiscing about the time he was made redundant. The brother and sister are making plans to form a search party, and Jacqui asks Rachel to sit by the phone (as that’s all she’s capable of, really).
In the meantime, we hear Anthea in the background, on the phone to someone. She’s phoned the solicitor. Mike angrily berates her for doing that, alerting the authorities to Ron’s absence. Hadn’t Anthea done enough damage?
Suddenly, Jacqui’s mobile rings. She grabs the phone. It’s Ron. She passes a few words with him, then hands the phone to Mike, whilst Anthea hops hopefully around in the background. Mike listens to what his father says and tells him that he and Jacqui are on their way, after finding out where he is. Ron says something on the other end, and with a pointed glare in Anthea’s direction, Mike assures his father that there’s ‘no problem there’. The woman looks uncomfortable.
He rings off and he and Jacqui set off for the docks. Anthea scurries behind them, pleading with them to wait a moment until she was dressed. It would only take her five minutes. She wanted to go with them. Mike turns roughly and stops her in her tracks by saying that she wasn’t to come. Ron didn’t want her there.
Anthea is stunned. Wouldn’t she get it into her thick head, Mike continues. What she did yesterday was an absolute disgrace. She as good as threw Ron to the dogs.
Anthea protests weakly that she did her best, but she couldn’t keep up with the prosecutor’s line of questioning.
No, remarks Mike, as he stalks ominously out of the house. She DIDN’T do her best.The truth is, Anthea was too concerned about Clint ‘bloody’ Moffatt to give a toss about Ron.
Lindsey Corkhill is still packing things for her new life - and packing away her old one too. She comes across the wedding dress she wore the day of her short-lived marriage to Peter Phelan. (By the way, I don’t think we were ever told that Lindsey had divorced Peter!) She holds the dress up for Jimmy to see, asking if he remembered that fateful day.
Remember it? Says Jim. He still has nightmares about it. He should think that Lindsey wanted to forget it too.
But Lindsey seems reluctant. She muses about her life being so exciting then, but Jimmy objects to that interpretation, reminding her of her unsavoury involvement with the Finnegans. Still, Lindsey wonders if she would have made a go of the Millennium Club if it hadn’t been for the likes of Rose, Alaistair and Callum.
She wonders bitterly why the world seemed to be full of no-marks like the Finnegans and the Moffatts. One minute she was lording it over eveyone as a co-owner of the Millennium Club, and the next, she’s behind a till in the garage. She went from designer suits to minty sweatshirts in what seemed like minutes. Anyway, she’s determined to forget all about the garage and concentrate on her new life.
She asks Jim if he’s calmed down and is now OK about her leaving for Newcastle today.
Yes, Jimmy hesitates, but -
But what? Lindsey wants to know.
Why couldn’t Lindsey leave Kylie with him? Just until Christmas, just so she could go to school in the meantime, he pleads.
Lindsey knits her thick eyebrows together and refuses point-blank. No way!
With Jacqui and Mike gone in search for Ron, Anthea collapses in a mound of tears on the sofa, with simpleton Rachel sitting beside her. This is all her fault, Anthea blubs.
Noooo, protests Rachel. It were all Robbeh Moffatt’s fault, this. Why, family were O-Keh oontil Robbeh Moffatt came ‘long.
No, Anthea insists, it was HER fault and hers alone. They had been so happy, she and Ron, and things had been good. Ron’s health was much better and he was making good money. Then THIS had to happen. And there she was, in the midst of it, making a meal out of the fact that her husband wanted her to lie for him in order to ensure his freedom. Oh, why did she waste so much time thinking about people like the Moffatts and what they were feeling!
Nooo, protests the simple girl again. It weren’t fault oof Anthea. Things were f-eye-ne oontil Jacqui met that Robbeh Moffatt!
She’d seen her mistake, sobs Anthea. She should have fought for her husband’s freedom, instead of being intimidated by that barrister.
When Lindsey has recovered from being shocked by Jimmy’s suggestion that Kylie stay with him, she tries to explain that Kylie’s coming with her today. But Jimmy protests that it isn’t fair to deprive Kylie of three weeks’ worth of school. Her education was important.
Lindsey informs Jimmy that the next three weeks of Kylie’s education will consist of Christmas parties and Nativity plays. She would be all right to start in the new year. Anyway, Jimmy was never that bothered about Lindsey’s schooling - or Little Jimmy’s either. He didn’t give a damn about the pair of them. In fact, she couldn’t remember Jimmy ever coming to a parents’ night when she was at school.
Jimmy admits that it’s just that he loves Kylie, and he’ll miss her.
Lindsey reflects on his emotions and apologises, but she reminds her dad that he persuaded her to seek a new life, and Kylie was her top priority. As a matter of fact, she planned on getting the grottiest flat in the nicest section of Newcastle, just so Kylie could go to a decent school. Kylie would get a good education and one day Jimmy would be proud of her. But right now, she says, it’s time to make that all-important break with the past.
It’s raining at the docks, and Ron still stands immobile, but staring at a snapshot held in his wallet. It’s a photo of a much-younger Jacqui and Mike, along with their younger brother Tony, taken before he died. As Ron stares at the snap, an X-reg black Ford Cougar pulls up, driven by Jacqui. (Funny, I remember her Cougar as being silver!)
Jacqui and Mike pour out of the car and run to Ron, both exclaiming how worried sick they were. Where had he been all night? They thought he had run away.
Well, he hadn’t run away, says Ron in a resigned tone. Anthea let him down, he continues. He had no chance now. He was facing a life sentence.
Mike tells him succinctly that this is something that Ron has to face up to. He HAS to return to the trial.
Ron remarks mysteriously that he doesn’t have to go back, and stares intently down into the murky Mersey water.
Silly Rachel is still trying to calm silly Anthea. Oooh, says Rachel, still yer can’t forget that soomone got killed.
Anthea is bitter about herself. She should have been harder all along, she reiterates. But it all got tangled up with the law and that damned barrister. Why, did Rachel realise that Ron could actually go to prison and die? Even if he didn’t, the authorities wouldn’t let him out until he was a very old man.
Jacqui and Mike are baffled by Ron’s statement. Just what exactly did he mean by saying that he didn’t have to face the trial?
Ron begins to relate to his children what happened after he left court yesterday. He walked through the town until he arrived at the docks.
Was Ron here all night? Demands Jacqui. Why, he could have frozen to death!
He was around here or thereabouts, Ron says. Anyway, he took a good look at the water. Did either of them realise how cold it was this time of year? A man with a heart like his would be dead within minutes if he jumped in. And it wouldn’t be that long before his body would be floating out in the Irish Sea. He explains to his kids that he felt old and sick, as though his life were truly over. So he stepped up to the edge and prepared to jump. It was the easy way, he said.
Jacqui tries to stop him from saying these things. It’s scaring her.
Ron says he kept turning the past few months over and over in his mind. It had been a nightmare. A lad was dead, and he was facing a life sentence. Holding out his wallet, Ron shows the two the picture at which he had been staring. Did they remember that? It was taken the Christmas after he had been made redundant. He had thought losing his job was the end of his world. Yet, funny enough, he was happy then.
Why do kids have to grow up? Ron asks rhetorically, looking at his son and daughter. Mike and Jacqui were still young, he says, but they both had little ones now; and they would realise how quickly time flies when you have kids. Looking at the photo again, Ron muses that it seems only minutes since he had taken that picture; it seemed like seconds since Beth and Harry had been born.
Glancing at Jacqui, he reminds her how he kicked off when he thought she had had an affair with Max Farnham, resulting in Harry’s birth. Now Max was his son-in-law.
Mike softly reminds Ron that he has to be in court by 2:30.
Again, Ron remarks that he doesn’t need to return to court.
Jacqui starts remonstrating for him not to talk that way, but Ron points to another ferry entering the docks. He’d been watching them come and go all morning. All he had to do was get on a ferry to Ireland, go to Dublin and just disappear.
Mike tries a bit of reverse psychology. He knows how his dad feels, he begins, but did Ron realise what it would be like to live a life on the run from the law.
Jacqui joins in, reminding Ron that they would track him down, somehow.
But Ron is facing LIFE IMPRISONMENT! He argues. His whole life has just rushed by until this point, and now he’ll have to do time. Do time, they call it. Time will now drag like 1000 years. Besides, he’ll miss his kids too much.
This is all too much for Jacqui, and she briefly loses her temper. Well, if that’s the way Ron felt, why didn’t he just walk out? She changes her tone to a cajoling one. Didn’t Ron look at the jury in court? They were ordinary people, just like him. And they LISTENED to Ron’s testimony. They will have heard all that diminshed responsibility stuff that Ron’s barrister had meted out.
They would have listened to Gobby too, Ron reminds her.
So what? Continues Jacqui. They know Gobby was a burglar, and Clint could have been one too, for all they knew. They would know that the truth had been twisted by the Moffatts. And the jury could see that Ron was just an ordinary, middle-aged married man, who was pushed to the limit by circumstances. And besides, she continues, how did anyone know that Clint didn’t have a hand in what had been happening at the Dixons’ all along? Maybe not, but maybe, just maybe he knew about it and kept quiet.
Besides, says Mike, the court will think him truly guilty if Ron doesn’t go back.
And what would they tell Harry and Beth? Demands Jacqui. That their granddad was a coward? She reminds him what scum the Moffatts were and tells him that he must face up to the consequences and not let the Moffatts win.
But, Ron protests, he’s pleaded guilty to possession of an illegal weapon.
That’s a minor charge, says Jacqui, brushing that aside.
Still, it carries a maximum sentence of seven years, Ron argues. He’s been in that remand center. The thought of even seven years in prison was less than appetising.
Jacqui tries to convince Ron that this is his first offence. He’s got an impeccable record, and he’s seen as a dad and a granddad. If anything, he’ll get a light sentence. Anyway, what about Ron’s faith in British justice?
Ron sighs. He’s facing a prison sentence, he says, tiredly. Maybe it’s payback for taking a life.
Even so, urges Jacqui, even if he does get life, she, Max and Mike would be working round the clock to secure an appeal; but if Ron just runs away and disappears, Jacqui and Mike wouldn’t ever want to know OR respect their father.
Ron decides not to get on the ferry after all, and asks rhetorically what he would do without Jacqui and Mike.
Lindsey is finished packing and the Cabbage Patch doll stands close by. Jimmy enters and Lindsey asks if he’s OK and if he’s remembered to take his tablets. Jimmy puts on a brave face and tells Lindsey he’ll be OK. Lindsey has to dash to the garage for a moment, but Jimmy stops her and apologises for over-reacting before.
He gazes sadly about the house. All those years Lindsey had lived in that house, and now she was going. He wanted her to know that she was right about Kylie and school. Jimmy admits that he was just frightened at the thought of missing the child.
Lindsey assures him that she will see him as often as she can, and promises him that Jackie would surely let him bring William to Newcastle to visit.
Jacqui and Mike are urging Ron to go. But Ron, who’s seated on the docks now, is in no hurry. Jacqui reminds him that he has to be in court. He should at least have a wash and a shave. He couldn’t show up looking like a tramp. Anyway, he has to go home, she says. Anthea feels just awful about what happened yesterday.
That doesn’t matter, says Ron calmly.
Mike is appalled. Doesn’t matter? Why, the woman had as good as handed Ron a life sentence.
It still doesn’t matter, insists Ron, quietly. Nothing matters. Because Anthea simply didn’t love Ron, and he realised this now.
Forget all the legal claptrap and the five second-interval crap, he dismisses. Ron knows he was right to defend his family. He saw a lad enter his home unlawfully and he felt that his wife and granddaughter were in danger. He knew his family were at risk, and he defended himself and them against someone who was stronger. He has no regrets, he admits, no pity for either of the Moffatts.
It was just a pity Anthea never saw it that way, he muses sadly. He knew
the first time he asked her to lie for him, when she hesitated before giving
an answer, that she would never be behind him 100% from the very beginning.
No, Anthea doesn’t love him, or if she does, she doesn’t love him
enough. His marriage, he announces, is finished. Over. Now, it was time to go
home.
Having reached the Dixon House of Horrors, Mike struggles to get into his suit, whilst being nagged constantly by his drippy, dippy wife Rachel.
Oooh, she witters, hadn’t M-eye-ke ought to sleep? He could do withoug going to court today. He would be knackered.
Mike roughly insists that he’s OK and shouts to Ron to hurry up.
And Mike should try to be a bit nicer to Anthea, Rachel nags. She’s been very upset.
Too late for that with Anthea, Mike says shortly. Ron had already decided to bin her. Rachel is flabbergasted, but Mike continues by asking her what else she expected Ron to do, seeing that Anthea had betrayed him in court.
Meanwhile, Anthea is literally and nervously dancing attendance on a harried Ron, insisting that he eat something, he’d had nothing to eat, why won’t Ron talk to her yadda yadda yadda...
Ron is hurrying about, trying to shave himself and pull on a clean shirt at the same time when there’s a strident knock on the front door.
Of all the times, mutters Ron, who could that be? The demanding knocking continues. Anthea pleads with him not to answer the door. What if it were some of Gobby Moffatt’s mates?
Ron opens the door to see two sharp-suited young men, duffed up yobs in flutes. The shorter and skinnier of the two, with the fact of a rodent, flashes a laminated card that identifies them as employees of Northwest Securities. Is the gentleman at the door Mr Dixon, by any chance?
Ron replies that he is, indeed, Mr Dixon.
Well, the smart-arsed yob replies, that’s good, because Mr Dixon appeared to be in default of a loan to the tune of £5230, repayable immediately.
Anthea, Rachel and Mike stand in the doorway behind a very baffled and confused Ron. These lads have the wrong end of the stick, he insists. He owes no one nothing.
But he IS Mr Dixon? Michael and Rachel Dixon of 8 Brookside Close? The rat-faced yob asks.
Ron turns to give Mike a look of horror, as the younger man steps forward. Mike identifies himself and mumbles abashedly to Ron that he didn’t want to tell him about this. Rachel speaks up, pleading, telling Ron that they had tried to keep up the repayments on the loan, but they just couldn’t.
The cheeky, little, rat-faced yob makes a movement to push past Ron, trying to get inside the house. If Mr Dixon will just let them have a look inside .You see, if the loan couldn’t be repaid in full, they had the right to appropriate goods and possessions ...
Ron forms a solid body wall directly in the yob’s path. NO ONE comes in Ron Dixon’s house without his permission, he warns.
Mike speaks feebly, offering to make a payment with a cheque for £100 this week, and come to some arrangement about repayments next week.
Too late for that, asserts the yob, making an effort to push past Ron again. Ron resists, whilst Mike pleads that he can’t afford to repay the loan.
Then does his dad have the money? Asks the yob.
No, insists Ron, and there’ll be no taking possessions either. Besides, Ron mentions, none of the belongings in the house are the possessions of Mike and Rachel. They only reside at the address.
Suddenly the rat-faced yob stares intently at Ron. He recognises him from the papers. Isn’t he the fella up for murder, something about burglars?
Got it in one, replies Ron, and so the yob would understand Ron’s attitude toward people trying to enter his house without his permission.
Anthea is pleading with Ron to calm down in all this, but Ron is paying her no mind. As this transpires, Jacqui and Max emerge onto their doorstep and hurry over. The yob is still insisting on his right of entry to appropriate furniture.
Anthea pleads with Jacqui to get Ron to see sense. He’s getting himself all wound up. Jacqui takes Ron by the arm and leads him to the house, telling him that this is Mike’s responsibility. They all adjourn inside, bar Mike, Rachel and Max. Mike again pleads to be allowed to come to some sort of arrangement, but the yobs are inflexible.
Suddenly Max interjects. ‘I assume you gentlemen have a court order fo retain these goods?’
The yob takes one look at Max and tells him it will be better if he stayed out of this.
‘Well,’ continues Max, smoothly, in inimitable Max style, ‘ I’m sure it would be better for you if I did stay out of it, but I’m not, and the fact is you need a special arrant issued by the county court to remove possessions in default of a loan. Now, let’s see it.’
The rat-faced yob becomes sulky, insisting that they have all the proof they need.
Then let’s see it, insists Max, or else he’ll be calling the police.
The yobs back off, defeated, but promise that they will be back in touch.
Rachel thanks Max profusely, but Mike is ungrateful, remarking that the yobs probably would get a court order now.
The trio return to the Dixon lounge where Ron is absolutely ballistic about the occurrence. The idea of those bograts wanting to lift his furniture! He bemoans. And because of Michael, his own credit rating would be zero. He thought Mike had some sense of responsibilty. He was supposed to be educated. He turns to Anthea suddenly and asks if she knew about this.
Anthea hesitates, and Rachel the Dim answers that Anthea had loaned them a payment or two to help out, but they had paid her back.
‘Oh!’ Exclaims Ron, darting the shameful Anthea a hot glare, ‘So much for the one who nagged ME about keeping secrets!’ Well, he wanted Mike to know one thing. If Ron got a custodial prison sentence, he had planned on leaving Mike and Rachel in charge of Great Grannies. In fact he had thought the extra bob or two from the business would come in handy for them, but at this rate, Mike would bloody bankrupt him.
Mike protests that he is still capable of running Great Grannies.
No, Ron continues, if Ron goes inside, Jacqui is to run the business.
Jacqui is astounded, protesting that she can’t, and Max joins the protests, pointing out to Ron that Jacqui has two small children and a business of her own. Anthea, meantime, hops up and down in the background, weakly insisting that she could look after Great Grannies.
Ron stops briefly and glares at his wife. He’ll talk to HER later, he promises and storms off to finish dressing.
Anthea wonders aloud to Jacqui why Ron won’t let her run Great Grannies. Jacqui can only reply that now wasn’t the time to talk about that.
Over at Hotel Corkhill, we are treated to a second half-hour of the protracted farewell of Lindsey Corkhill to the Close. Talk about milking it! Kylie, who in real life seems to think that she’s in a perpetual Nativity play, such are the powers of her acting skills, is putting up a protest at having to leave - speaking in that annoying, cloying, monotone, high-pitched whine we’ve all come to recognise (which probably annoyed the production crew as well or else she’d have been given as many lines and major stories as Ant Murray).
She doesn’t want to leave, she protests to her mother’s protruding, upwardly-mobile tits. She never had the chance to say good-bye to her friends.
Her mother’s tits lean forward and Lindsey assures Kylie that they will always come back to visit.
The Dixons have arrived at court and are seated in the waiting area outside the courtroom. Mike, Rachel and Anthea are seated on the bench, when Jacqui and Max rush in and sit beside them. Lucky for Ron, says Max, that the judge had been delayed and had only just arrived, herself. Jacqui explains that Ron’s solicitor said that it would have gone severely against Ron if he had arrived after the judge.
Rachel is blaming herself and Mike for Ron’s tardiness. Ooooh, she remarks, a worried look on her permanently puckered brow, it’s all their fault, them men turning oop.
Max, sitting at one end of the bench, picks up on this remark and comments to Mike, sitting at the other end, that he’d be well-advised to see a solicitor about this as soon as possible. Mike has that surly, obstinant look on his face and replies to Max with an impatient, ‘OK, OK’.
Ron’s case is called and everyone rises to enter the courtroom, except Rachel and Mike. Mike’s feeling annoyed, embarrassed and frustrated with their situation. As usual, he’s blaming everyone around him, but himself and Rachel, for their predicament.
Ron made him feel useless, with his reaction to the debt collectors turning up, he tells Rachel. He’s got to do something about this situation. Why, there they were, knee-deep in debt and with a toddler. Mike vows that after the trial he’s going to see Citizens’ Advice Bureau. He tells Rachel that she should go on into the courtroom. He’s going to ring CAB right now for an appointment.
Ooooh, Rachel remarks, boot didn’t Max mention solicitor -
Never mind what Max says, replies Mike, brusquely, Max might be older than Mike, but he wasn’t Mike’s dad.
Jimmy Corkhill has his overgrown granddaughter sat on his knee, trying to encourage her about her new life in Newcastle. Kylie must be about nine, but looks about eleven and acts as if she’s about five, unless she’s mentally-challenged, which wouldn’t at all surprise me. Jimmy, in the tones one uses to tell bedtime stories to very small children, tells her that her move is like a BIG ADVENTURE. Just think! She’d have a new school and new friends.
Kylie whines that Jimmy’s not coming with them.
Well, says Jimmy, then Kylie would have his visits to look forward too. And they could talk on the phone as much as possible. Or write letters. Lindsey promises that perhaps Kylie could have a computer and then she could e-mail her granddad every day.
Just like he showed her on his computer, chimes Jimmy. Of course, Kylie had better make sure all her letters and e-mails were spelled correctly, he mock-threatens, or else granddad would send them back to her to be corrected. (Well, if Jimmy’s ill-spelt website is anything to go by, that’s a rich remark!) All in all, Kylie’s new life would be brilliant.
But Kylie asks if Jimmy couldn’t come with them.
That gives Lindsey an idea. Why didn’t Jimmy come too? There was no shortage of work in Newcastle. (Oh no? Then why are all the Geordies coming south to look for work?)
Jimmy, close to tears, refuses. Why, they wouldn’t want an old scally like him around. Unable to restrain himself any longer, Jimmy begins to cry.
Kylie, however, has a solution to her problems. She goes to the sofa and picks up what appears to be a stuffed version of Tigger from the Pooh stories, only Kylie, never having heard of Winnie-the-Pooh, has named the toy ‘Mr Stripes’. She’s going to leave her granddad Mr Stripes to look after him. Jimmy and Lindsey are both visibly upset.
The Dixons and poor pitiful ugly Katie are assembled in the courtroom as the prosecutor begins his closing remarks. He tells the jury that, despite all the evidence that they had heard regarding ballistics and blood stains (which we didn’t get to hear), the plain question in this case revolved around the use of reasonable force in which to eject an intruder into a home, when all else fails.
Ron Dixon, he says, had used excessive force, beyond all reason, in his treatment of Clint Moffatt. Ron Dixon presented himself as a family man, yet Clint Moffatt received no mercy at his hands. Clint was killed in a vicious, cold-blooded manner. The jury should remember that Ron Dixon went back upstairs for his gun, and then he deliberately and with intent, killed Clint Moffatt. He had murdered an unarmed and innocent man, without giving Clint Moffatt a chance to explain his presence in the household.
The camera pans on the public gallery, and we see Jacqui, Max and Mike shake their heads in disbelief.
Awhile later, during a break in the proceedings, everyone files from the courtroom. Rachel and Mike emerge first. Mike tells Rachel that he managed to get an appointment the next morning with the Citizens’ Advice Bureau, in order to discuss their plight with Northwest Securities. The CAB even volunteered to ring Northwest Securities for Mike that very afternoon to discuss their situation.
Ron and Anthea follow the couple into the foyer. Ron admits that he feels very fatigued, and Anthea isn’t at all surprised. He was up all night and out in the elements.
Mike and Rachel turn to tell Ron and Anthea that they are off to the cafe down the street during the break for something to eat. Did Ron and Anth want to tag along? The older couple decline, and Mike hurries Rachel along, in order not to run into ‘Lord and Lady Farnham’ in the meantime.
As Mike and Rachel depart, Ron sinks wearily onto the bench beside the wall and Anthea sits down beside him. She is eager to make amends for her appalling performance in the courtroom the day before and begins by apologising profusely for the fiasco. She promises She knows she’s been dodgy about supporting Ron prior to this incident, but she makes a sincere promise to Ron to back him up 100% from now on.
Ron looks at her warily. That’s easy enough for her to say now, he remarks. But thinking a bit, he relents and assures Anthea that what happened the day before was not her fault. It was simply too much for him to ask of her to lie for him in court.
Anthea dismisses this. She’s ashamed of herself. It wasn’t too much to expect, she says, from someone who loves him.
Ron becomes more alert at this comment and looks at her pointedly. If she REALLY loved him, he says, she wouldn’t have thought twice about lying for him on that stand.
Anthea hangs her head, glancing uneasily upward at Ron through her lashes.
Ron continues sadly. The truth is that Anthea doesn’t love him - or rather, she doesn’t love him enough. If he had known all those months ago what he knew now about her, he would never have asked her to put herself in that position. That’s why, he says, that he’s decided, whatever happens to him - whether he’s acquitted or put in prison - their marriage was over. Finished.
A look of sheer horror engulfs Anthea’s guilty countenance.
Back at Hotel Corkhill (yawn!), the continuing saga of The Leaving of Lindsey continues. Jimmy, Lindsey and Cabbage Patch Kylie are awaiting the arrival of the taxi. Lindsey is worried that it’s late, as the train for Newcastle leaves shortly.
Jimmy advises Kylie that he’s expecting some postcards from Newcastle and asks that she ensure that they all contain good spelling. (Ha! That’s a joke! Have you visited Jimmy’s website?) All of a sudden, Jimmy reminds Kylie that, by going to Newcastle, she’d never have to see that awful Mrs Carroll at school anymore. Kylie smiles at that thought.
As the taxi arrives, Jimmy can contain himself no longer and become visibly upset. He, Lindsey and Kylie cling to each other pathetically (well, actually, it’s supposed to be poignantly, but it fails), before he advises his daughter that she’d better leave now or risk missing her train.
As the trio walk outside for final farewells, Lindsey gazes one more time around the Close, obviously thinking of how she’s fucked up the series so badly in the past six years of her tenure there. She promises to call Jimmy once she arrives at the B & B in Newcastle. Jimmy admonishes her to look after Lindsey - wondering obviously how she would survive without either of her parents close at hand to deal with the drudgery of looking after a child, a task that Lindsey often shirked them with.
Again, they say tearful good-byes. (I say, good riddance to the two worst actresses in the show). As the taxi pulls away, Lindsey wipes away a tear and tells dim Kylie to wave good-bye to her granddad. (And Kylie’s real life family can wave good-bye to all those royalty cheques their no-talent daughter got for appearing in the soap. Back to real-life Nativity plays for RKylie!)
Anthea manages to recover from the shock of Ron’s sudden announcement to tell him that she thinks he’s not thinking straight at the moment. After all, he’s under immense pressure and he’s bound to be confused.
No, Ron insists, he’s very clear in his mind. It’s he who’s put Anthea under pressure. He wanted her to lie for him, but he knew all along that she wouldn’t and couldn’t. He’s known it for ages, but he just kidded himself that she would do so for him. He knew that their marriage was over the minute he began to doubt her loyalty in this, but he was too stubborn to admit it to himself. The truth is, he says, they are simply not right for each other.
Anthea protests that the pair have known each other for over twenty years. Yes, agrees Ron, but they hadn’t seen each other for many of those years, until three years ago. They had an affair twenty years ago at his factory, he says. He was a maintenance fitter and she was the girl in the wages office. They had an 18-month affair, after which he went back to DD and she went back to Geoff.
(Sorry, Brookside, but you are rewritting the plot again. When Anthea first appeared on Brookside, I distinctly remember RON telling Jacqui and Mike that Anthea was his teenage sweetheart, his first love. They shared a teenage passion and then went their separate ways, only to meet up around a decade later when Ron was working at the factory and DD was pregnant with Tony. They then began an affair, whereby Ron fathered Megan. It was AFTER this, that Anthea married Geoff, who accepted Megan as his own and raised her as such).
Anthea protests that she and Ron have feelings for each other.
It was lust, admits Ron. Lust and loneliness. He reminds Anthea that Geoff had just died and he had lost DD and subsequently Bev. They were drawn to each other.
It was fate, says Anthea.
Ron doesn’t believe in all that fate nonsense, he says. Anthea is a lovely woman, but she shouldn’t be here now with him.
Anthea, with the desperation of the guilty caught in the act, simply refuses to believe what Ron’s saying. The couple have had their ups and downs, she admits, hesitantly, but ...
But, Ron interjects, they haven’t really passed the first real test, intimating the ordeal he is about to face.
Anthea insists that they continue this discussion after hearing the verdict.
But Ron has an ultimatum. Whether he goes down or not, he says, he wants Anthea to walk away now. He doesn’t want her to waste her life with him. Ron is releasing her from her marital vows, he says. He becomes brutally frank in his assessment. He’s killed a lad and that’s something he reckons Anthea will never forget, nor will she let him forget it at the best of times.
Anthea, again, refuses to accept anything Ron says.
But Ron insists that he wants her to stay away. In fact, he doesn’t even want her returning to the courtroom, but Anthea maintains that he can’t stop her from entering.
Ron rises and re-enters the courtroom, just at the same moment that Max and Jacqui descend the stairs, witnessing the last few moments of the scene and seeing Anthea left crying.
Back at Hotel Corkhill, the Sage of the Close sits alone, with his face streaked with tears, and holding Tigger/Mr Stripes.
As the courtroom session resumes, the prosecutor continues his closing remarks, which come dangerously close to turning into a rant. Ron Dixon, he continues, would have us all believe that he’s a respectable, middle-aged family man.
Yet is he? He doesn’t tell the police about this latest unlawful intrusion into his home. He’s arrogant enough to actually get a gun in order to deal with such happenings, himself.
As the man rants on and on, Ron begins to look physically uncomfortable. He begins pulling on the collar of his shirt, as though he’s choking and occasionally clutches his chest.
The barrister drones on and on. Ron Dixon, he says, has taken the law into his own hands ...
In the gallery, however, Jacqui and Max notice Ron’s sufferings and exchange concerned glances, as the prosecutor accuses Ron of gung ho, macho tactics in dealing with the despatching of Clint; but by now, the lady Judge has noticed Ron’s distressing movements. She halts the summing-up to ask Ron if he’s all right.
Ron admits with difficulty, that he can’t breath, before collapsing in a heap.
His family, including Anthea, who has returned to the courtroom, dash toward him, Anthea begging to get through and screaming for someone to find Ron’s spray. Poor, pitiful, ugly Katie continues to sit in the gallery, a hopeful look on her demented face. And the judge orders an ambulance called.
Summary © 2001 Marion Watts
Brookside and all related materials are © Mersey Television 1982-2001