Well, was this the Christmas Special that was or the video that wasn’t?
For a start, it was FILMED and not videocammed. It had moderate swearing and
LOTS of unnecessary cleavage. And sex in inappropriate places. I find Brookside
more sad than boring these days. In fact, it’s a sad impression of itself,
considering the fact that both Eastenders and Coronation Street have adapted
the elements of what made Brookside formerly great and made themselves greater.
And poor old Brookie is reduced to showing artificially enhanced
replicas
of sex toys and raspberry ripples in the pathetic attempt to attract even bigger
wankers than appear in its cast credits.
And the children of Brookside! There’s an old football dittie - that’s dittie, not titty - that opposing supporters always sang to Liverpool/Everton when they were playing: - ‘In your Liverpool slums, you search in the dustbin for something to eat, you search for a rat or a cat to eat, in your Liverpool slums’. What is it about the children of Brookside that they have to be ugly? I remember a time when Brookside boasted the cutest kids, and the adults were pretty average. Now it’s the adults who are stunners and the kids who all have rat faces - or at least who all look as though they were fathered by Lance Powell or Christy Murray.
Remember the original versions of Leo, Gemma, Kylie and Josh? Awwwwwwww, diddums ... Kylie turned into a Cabbage Patch doll and Josh looked like he crawled out of a rathole. Tonight Louise returns. Remember Louise Mach I as a small child - blonde, lovely, placid and glowing. This one is dark and looks like a cross between someone who sprang from the loins of Lance and a reject from Harry Potter. And that accent. Read on for inconsistency ...
And one other thing ... The incidental music. NOOOOOOOOOO! Years ago, when I were a lass, there was an alternative soap opera on US television called Dark Shadows. It started out as a gothic version of Peyton Place, but descended into cult status by introducing ghosts, werewolves, vampires and by switching between two or three centuries in storylines. It gave the world Kate Jackson, she of Charlie’s Angels fame, and the music employed by Brookside for this episode was a curious amalgamation of Dark Shadows meets NYPD meets The Sopranos.
Oh, well, they tried. Me, I’m looking forward to Phiw finding out that Louise (the other one) is his daughter. On that other soap. You know, the one Mal Young produces. Nyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
It’s the evening to end all evenings - well, Jacqui Dixon’s marriage at least, if the Sugly Blisters have their way. Poor, pitiful Katie and Lady Muck are making ready for their respective soirees. Katie has bathed her body, but not her hair, as it looks as though it’s about to drip grease. She’s trying to put slap on her ugly, jealousy-ridden face. Lady Muck is prancing about in her underwear, showing off thunder thighs, thick midriff and an over-generous bosom - not to mention, hefty arms. I’m not being bitchy. The years off-camera have not been kind to Rachel Lindsey. And I reckon that the way she looks now is probably an improvement on the way she probably looked when Brookside asked her to return. She has that formerly obese look of someone who has ballooned and is now desperately trying to slim for the camera. She looks better than the Mekon, mind you, because she’s natural. But she isn’t as honed as Ms Fletcher or Ms Collins as yet.
Lady Muck is moaning about her stretch marks, in anticipation of Maxim gazing upon them later in the evening. She reaches into the wardrobe and pulls out a dress with spaghetti straps, just the sort of outfit you bring when you come to visit a grieving sister. Holding it up to her, she asks poor, pitiful Katie if she thinks it looks too tarty for her.
Poor, pitiful Katie’s permanent frown deepens. Too tarty for Sammy? She asks in disbelief.
As Sammy pulls it over her head, she mentions that Richard bought the outfit for her in Marbella. She has to struggle to get it over her ample hips, however, and her boobs look ask though they have a life of their own and want to spring the coop. Hmm, ponders Sammy, incomprehensibly. This dress seems to have suddenly shrunk.
In the wardrobe, sure, deadpans Katie.
Sammy pulls another number out. It’s a classic ‘little black dress’ a la Coco Chanel. (For you philistines, Chanel was a designer that emoted style and class, not tits and arse). She settles on this dress, as it’s boring and safe. As she puts the dress on, the camera zooms in on Sammy’s now ginormous tits with her endless cleavage.
Katie notices this and asks Sammy if she doesn’t think she’s revealing a bit too much.
It won’t be anything Max hasn’t seen before, she announces, smugly. And she orders Katie to put the kettle on as she’s gasping.
Tim enters the Bar’s office to find Christy practicing a few manouevres with a baseball bat. Non-chalantly, he asks Christy if he’s heard any news about this potential ‘big job’ that’s on. No news yet, says Christy.
Tim reminds Christy that tonight is his night off and he’s planned to go out with Emily.
Oooh, witters Christy, curiously. A romantic meal, is it?
No, admits Tim. They’re going to the bingo club to rib Jerome. Why has Christy got that baseball bat, he asks.
Christy tells him that the bat is precaution for the ‘big job’ - in case something went wrong. Things might get rough, after all, Christy brags.
Only if the job’s messed up, quips Tim, cockily.
The Sugly Blisters continue getting ready, but Katie is having second thoughts. Is Sammy sure about this? It might be too soon after his recent marriage for Max to stray, she warns.
Oh, it won’t be, smirks Sammy. And together the pair of them, and Katie would wipe that smile off Jacqui Dixon’s gob and love every minute of it.
Again, Katie’s attention seems to be drawn to Sammy’s enormous breasts. Has Sammy had a boob job? She asks. (Like at least two of Brookside’s other actresses).
Sammy slaps her tits and admits she’s wearing a ‘gel bra’. Better than a Wonderbra. It adds two cup sizes to your tits. (Yeah, sure. That was no gel bra. Rachel Lindsey’s added two cup sizes to her tits in the past five years by eating all those PIES!!!!!) Anyway, Katie should remember why they were doing this scam tonight. The object of the game is to make Jacqui suffer just as much as Katie had. Katie asks Sammy if she has any other reason for the evening, but Sammy only gives the camera a sly look.
Emily, baring another abnormal cleavage (but this one doubly artificially enhanced) sits on the bed in her new boudoir applying cheap slap to her plastic orange face. ArrrrggggggggggHHHHHHH! Worse than the Creature from the Black Lagoon, Becky Big-Tits is back! (Altogether, guys, hands down trouser fronts, one, two, three ... WANK).
Jimmy puts his head around the door to tell Emily that he’s moved the last of his things out of the room, having left the curtains for her and Tim. In a particularly ugly, selfish and ungrateful blast, Emily screeches that she wants ‘them mingin’ KERR-tains out’. Why, her nan wouldn’t even tolerate ‘roobbish’ like that.
Jimmy beats a hasty retreat and Big-Tits looks impressed. Emily preens and brags that she and Tim are planning to redo the room to their taste.
Well, bust her britches, Becky Big-Tits can’t believe her ears. The day that Emily Shadwick would talk more about wallpaper than a pair of slingbacks. (Ever notice how no one ever mentions Emily’s athletic career that was anymore?) And going to the bingo as well? Next thing to watch out for is Emily buying cardies for Tim, jokes Big-Tits.
It’s all very nice, the slut continues, having a house like this and all, but having to put up with that old nutter ...
Ah, but Emily explains that Jimmy was going away for Christmas and she and Tim would have the house all to themselves.
Where’s he going? Asks Big-Tits.
To the lezza’s, informs Emily.
Interlude: Jimmy has made himself a sarnie and is about to enjoy it, when the phone rings. It’s Lindsey.
Max is standing in The Shelf, having a conversation on the telephone with an unseen and unheard Jacqui on the other end. It seems as though Jacqui’s apologising for being too shattered to shag the night before. Max promises that the two of them will try again tonight. He understood her fatigue; after all, she spends the day running after two toddlers.
All the time he’s talking, we see Sammy Rogers slink up behind him. When he finishes his conversation, he turns to find her massive tits shoved in his face.
Would Max happen to have a spare five minutes? Sammy pouts, falsely innocent.
Jimmy is having a difficult conversation with Lindsey (equally unseen and unheard) on the phone. It seems that Lindsey has had to let him down about visiting at Christmas. Jackie had booked tickets for her and Wiliam and Lindsey thinks it might not be a good idea for Jimmy to come as well. (Er, has Lindsey found a house?)
Jimmy is gutted, but he’s putting on a brave face. Of course, he doesn’t mind missing out, he lies to Lindsey. After all, what did he do Christmas Day, except stuff his gob and fall asleep in front of the telly? Anyway, he wouldn’t be averse to a day on his own at Christmas, he says. He tells Lindsey that he hopes that she has a nice Xmas and to give his love to Kylie.
One of the best things about this episode was the return of the wonderfully bad Leanne. Leanne is worked to a frazzle - so much so that she’s been out of sight for the past three months. Now Christy, wants a Chrimbo snog, but Leanne is too busy. Ah, Christy promises, tantalizingly, but tonight might be her lucky night.
Leanne looks downcast. She simply has no time. And tonight was out of the question. They were short on bar staff.
But, pleads Christy, couldn’t Leanne spare him just ten minutes?
Leanne hesitates.
He’ll make it worth her wile, Christy promises.
OK, twenty minutes then, negotiates Leanne, happily closing the door, to smother Christy in her embrace.
Brigid, Jessie and Ray are joined at the bar by Nikki, who’s just finished her shift. Ray looks a bit pensive and reluctant. Jessie witters worriedly that there’s still no sign of Emily. Everyone is solicitous of Ray, knowing his reluctance to return to the place where his unloved first wife, who’s suddenly become very loved, died two years ago. Is Ray OK? Both the older women ask.
Brigid tries to encourage him, saying once he’s done his first card, he’ll be flying.
But Ray reminds everyone that two years ago this time of year, Reenie had died.
Jessie explains to Brigid that Reenie had just won the first prize with a full house. Brigid replies that if that ever happened to her, she would probably die there and then as well. (At least this is one thing that Brookside has kept consistent - Reenie’s death. Why does no one ever mention Kitty anymore?)
Jessie nods. She died as they called her final number, she remarks.
The Plank and Tim stand nearby at the bar, the Plank gazing at the crude sign advertising ‘Uncle Christy’s Christmas Trees’ standing tackily in the bar. Who would buy those mingy trees, he wonders aloud. Looking at Tim, Plank suddenly clears the sawdust from his cranial cavity and asks why Tim had suddenly become so thick with Christy. It seems that everytime Plank enters the bar to spend money he doesn’t have, Tim is always in the office with Christy.
Tim jokes crudely that he’s ‘giving one’ to Christy.
Plank warns Tim that if Tim’s being promised grand things by Christy, that often Christy’s pie in the sky plans have a way of not working out.
Tim suggests that Plank join the gang for a night out at the bingo. Eyeing Jessie and Brigid, Plank is wary about having a night out with his Nan, but Tim reminds him that Becky Big-Tits is coming with Emily, and it would be a good opportunity to rib Jerome Johnson.
Plank is convinced.
At that moment, the Mekon and Big-Tits arrive, only to be verbally castigated by Jessie for being late, as the group gather coats etc to make a move. Emily quips an unfunny remark at Brigid’s and Jessie’s expense about two fat ladies and they are off, with Brigid reckoning that tonight might be someone’s lucky night.
But suddenly Nikki’s having second thoughts about going. She somehow doesn’t want her sexy image of her spider-haired boyfriend in a tux and tie being held in awe by a roomful of pensioners. But in the end, she, too, is convinced.
As she leaves, however, she’s rudely stopped by a desperate Leanne.
‘’Ang on,’ Leanne calls, roughly. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’
Nikki explains that she’s finished her shift.
No, she hasn’t argues Leanne. She needs Nikki behind that bar tonight. Or is she bothered about keeping her job?
Nikki turns and faces Leanne, pointedly asking her exactly who it will be who’ll be working every night next week just so Leanne could get a leg-over Loverboy. Correction, Leanne needs Nikki more than Nikki needs her.
Interlude: Jimmy lies alone on the bed in the extension. He reaches out and draws Kylie’s toy, Mr Stripes to his chest and cuddles it. The camera angle is shot from above.
Max and Sammy are now seated at a booth in The Shelf, overlooking the swimming pool in the Health Club that used to be the Millennium Club. Sammy is explaining to Max that she’s thinking about investing in a house in Liverpool and thought that, as Max was, by training a surveyor, he might give her a helping hand by looking at the property.
Max is reluctant to oblige, and Sammy changes tack. She’s not sure how others would interpret their sitting there like that. Why, it was just like old times, she coos.
What does she mean? Asks Max, innocently.
Sammy grasps both his hands. Why, two old flames having a quiet dinner together.
Max pulls his hands away and gently remarks that he wasn’t certain that he and Sammy had ever been ‘old flames’.
Jacqui Dixon is waiting at a table in the bar, when Katie arrives. Katie asks Jacqui if she wants some wine, but Jacqui is reluctant and noticeably uneasy about this evening. She’s not certain about this reunion thing, she confesses. After all, she and Katie don’t do ‘nights out’ anymore and haven’t for years. Jacqui reckons something’s up.
Jimmy enters the bar for some company, where he’s met by Leanne. Promptly, he tells her his Chrimbo plans with Lindsey have been scuppered, due to the fact that The Baying Banshee of Brookside (namely, Jackie) had got her oar in first and was going to visit Newcastle.
Leanne is immediately alert to this possibility. Did Jimmy have anything special planned for this evening? Only if he didn’t, she could sure use some help behind the bar.
Jimmy readily agrees and steps behind the bar, whilst Leanne goes off, contemplating a night of nookie with Christy. (Perish the thought!)
At the bingo club, Jerome is adroitly calling his game, when the noisy party of Timily, Big-Tits, Plank and Nikki arrive. They come in shouting and whistling at Jerome, who loses his composure and begins to falter, until Jessie rounds on the lot of them as they stand on the sidelines.
Jacqui is still viewing Katie’s motives behind the night out as suspicious. She rightly points out to Katie that there have been loads of times in the past year that she’s wanted to get together with Katie, and Katie has never wanted to respond. In fact, in the past several months, Katie’s assaulted her, spat on her, doused her with water, treated her ignominably in public and damaged her property. OK, she realises that her dad shot Clint; but Jacqui was there 100% for Katie at the time.
Now, all of a sudden, she remarks, because KATIE wants to renew their friendship, Jacqui’s expected to drop everything and come running. It was all on Katie’s terms now, and that was hard for Jacqui to fathom. Jacqui reminds the greasy wretch that it was Katie who decided that they shoudn’t be friends anymore. Why, she and Katie had been friends since first year senior school. And, after this malarkey with Clint, it was Katie who didn’t give Jacqui a second thought.
Jacqui continues telling a few home truths. OK, she was married now, but did Katie think that she had it easy, just because she had a husband and children and a house? Did Katie realise how difficult it was to bring up two small children? To care for them 24/7, often on her own surrounded by four walls? And there comes Katie, dousing Jacqui’s car with paint and accusing her of flaunting her husband and her house and her happiness.
Katie looks glumly cold and lamely remarks that she doused Jacqui’s car because she was ‘upset’.
KATIE was upset? Laughs Jacqui, grimly. She stands up at the table. This wasn’t going to work, Jacqui remarks. It was a bad idea, even to come here. She announces that she’s going home.
As she walks past the miserably wretch, Katie suddenly grabs her arm tightly. ‘NO!’ She shouts.
Why not? Aks Jacqui.
Because, explains Katie, she wants the two of them to sort out their differences. She wants to apologise ... For the car. She supposes she was desperate.
Sitting down, Jacqui eyes her with intense suspicion.
During an interval in the bingo, Nikki approaches Jerome, but before she can open her mouth, Jerome rounds on her. Did she realise that the manager had just had Jerome in his office and blasted him for the behaviour of Nikki and the rest during the last game? He got roasted for bringing his so-called mates in and disrupting things. In case Nikki hadn’t realised it, Jerome needed this job. How pathetic was that behaviour anyway, he asks rhetorically. He had a job to do, and he suggests that Nikki take the mick out of someone else.
Nikki is noticeably shamed.
(Why do the producers insist on having Nikki and Jerome cavort with the likes of Timily, Big-Tits and Plank? They would avoid these no-marks like the plague in real life?)
Christy waits in the office for the appearance of the Divine Miss Powell. His mobile phone rings. The ‘job’ is on. Christy thanks the anonymous caller, telling him that he owes him one. Much relieved, he dials Tim’s number.
Back at The Shelf, Sammy is admiring the apparent smooth running of the restaurant. It seems as if it runs like clockwork, she smarms, as Max self-deprecatingly describes how he works all hours to ensure the business is a success. (Has no one forgotten that Max is merely the maitre d’? His wife owns the business in trust for his children!)
Ah, well, all work and no play, hints Sammy, playfully.
Max assumes a woebegone face and admits that it’s not by choice that he has to work so hard, intimating that all’s not well on the home front. Sammy rises to the bait. She certainly hopes their little soiree tonight doesn’t land Max in trouble. After all, it might look suspicious - two old flames, both married to other people, having a quiet, intimate dinner together.
Max is at pains to point out, yet again, that he and Sammy are not old flames.
Well, Sammy purrs, Max can say that if he wants. She, Sammy, poor thing, has to spend an awful lot of time on her own.
Max makes sympathetic noises.
She continues. All she REALLY wants, what she REALLY REALLY wants is someone to love her and make her feel wanted. (Yawn). Again, she reaches across the table and takes both of Maxim’s hands in hers. She asks if Max finds her attractive, heaving her massive chest forward and over the brow of the table.
Max replies that he finds her a very desireable woman. Then, suddenly, he pulls his hands away from her grasp. He excuses himself and says that he has to check on things in the kitchen.
As she watches him leave, Sammy pulls out her mobile and rings Katie.
Luckily, Katie is on her own, as Jacqui has departed to get another round. Sammy is baffled. Nothing’s going according to plan, she says frantically. Max isn’t biting at all.
Katie hisses down the phone, asking what’s wrong, but Sammy isn’t sure. Katie demands that Sammy do something, as she’s been stuck here with Jacqui for over an hour. Sammy rings off abruptly, as Max reappears.
And so does Jacqui, as Katie snaps her mobile shut.
‘Aye aye,’ comments Jacqui, as she takes her seat, and not without suspicion. ‘What’s this? Secret phone calls now?’
Max notices Sammy’s phone as well and asks if she had received an important phone call. Nothing important, stammers Sammy.
That’s good, says Max, because he wouldn’t want to cut the evening short.
Jacqui gazes deprecatingly around the bar, particularly noticing the riffraff hanging out at the bar, itself. She finds this place disgusting now, she remarks, sourly. If Bev could only see what Leanne and Christy had done to this place.
Katie asks if Jacqui’s heard from Bev, but Jacqui says she’s heard nothing. (A sure sign that Bev’s return is imminent).
Katie shrugs her shoulders, uncaringly. She reckons Bev will never be seen in Liverpool again.
Jacqui persists in asking about the mystery phone call that Katie had received; but Katie maintains it was nothing. Still, Jacqui is suspicious of the evening. Katie then says she wants to know about Jacqui’s life with Max. She asks about the age difference between him and Jacqui, and Jacqui tells her that it’s 19 years. She starts shooting abrupt questions about Max. Doesn’t the age difference bother Jacqui? Isn’t she worried about Max’s record? And she wants Jacqui to know that if things do go pear-shaped with Max, she’s there for her. Well, isn’t that what friends are for?
Jacqui shoots her a quizzical look, to say the least.
Sammy is nursing her orange juice as she and Max are served a main course, explaining to Max that she only drinks on special occasions now. Max unflatteringly remarks that he seems to recall that every occasion was special in Sammy’s past, as she seemed to have a bit of a drink problem.
Sammy chooses to ignore the barb and reminisces that the last time she visited the area, Max was together with Susannah. (This is incorrect, and Brookside should know better. The last time Sammy Rogers made an appearance, it sparked the beginning of the end of Max’s marriage to PATRICIA). Rather tactlessly, Sammy pursues a line of questioning as to how Susannah died. Why, Max must have been devastated after the accident.
Max admits that he was, but he was helped through it immensely by Jacqui.
Ah, yes, Sammy can’t resist getting in a jibe. It certainly opened the door for Jacqui. She admits that she was shocked to find Max married to Jacqui. After all, Jacqui is a Dixon, and Max always hated them. Changing the subject, sensing that Max might be cooled off by that remark, she remarks that it’s been a long time since she’s had the occasion to dress up and have dinner with an attractive man.
Max abruptly asks after Sammy’s daughter.
Louise? Comments Sammy, as if remembering that she has a daughter. Oh, she’s OK? Now Max’s children, aren’t they of similar ages?
Max replies that Harry and Emma are three and two.
That must be difficult, keeping up with them, Sammy coos.
Jacqui’s responsible for childcare, Max informs her. She takes care of the house and the children exclusively. And she’s really feeling it too, he adds for good measure.
Sammy probes the remark, forgetting all tact. Er, what, exactly does Max mean by that comment?
‘Well, you know what they say about children being the best method of contraceptive,’ Max says, innocently, eyes wide open.
If Sammy had been a cat, she couldn’t have lapped cream more greedily.
Jimmy and Leanne are stuck behind the bar, with Leanne trying to beat a hasty retreat to the office, where she thinks Christy’s waiting. She’s looking for some vintage wine to aid in her evening of passion with the punk, and Jimmy suggests that she take some of Christy’s bogus plonk (that of the phoney labels) as they couldn’t give it away at the bar. However, Jimmy relents and - on a more serious note - reveals to Leanne where Christy keeps the good stuff hidden in the cellar.
It’s good to see Leanne again, if only because she has the most bodacious smile on the show; and she happily bounces off in the direction of the cellar for tome vintage passion juice. (IMO, Leanne’s one of the best characters on this show, and that’s down to Vicki Gates’s ability as an actress. Leanne is mad and bad, but we like her because she’s ordinary, out of her depth and vulnerable. Besides that, the actress comes across in interviews as a genuinely nice person. UNLIKE the current piece of plastic flesh the prods are trying to poke in our direction as the star of the piece - PIECE being the operative word).
Back at the bingo club, a new game is in session, as Jerome is back to his old ability on the podium. Of all the younger contingent with Jessie and Co., only Tim appears to be playing a round, and playing seriously too, as he seems to be on a winning streak with the numbers. Plank sits stolidly by, nursing a beer; whilst Emily and Big-Tits whisper loudly.
Big-Tits isn’t at all impressed by an evening with the ‘olds’ (well, Brookside is becoming more and more ‘Neighboursy’). Pointing to an elderly couple nearby, she chides Emily that that will be she and Tim in a few years’ time. Nikki, seated at the booth with Ray, Jessie and Brigid is noticing something more significant about the place. There seems to be an over-abundance of young women in attendance. She points them out to Jessie, asking if they are regulars here.
Oh, yes, confirms Jessie. More and more young people seem to be attending these days, especially young women. She puts it down to Jerome.
Brigid pipes up that Jerome is just a natural in front of the microphone. Nikki sits back in her seat, glaring jealously.
Suddenly, Tim’s mobile sounds, to the annoyance of everyone in the hall.
‘Honestly,’ Jessie hisses, ‘I’ll never be able to show my face here again from embarrassment!’
Tim’s call, of course, is the go-ahead call from Christy. He hastily kisses Emily good-bye, telling her he’ll see her at home, as Plank gives him a suspicious stare. Jessie wonders aloud where Tim’s going, and Nikki remarks that she dreads to think where.
Outside Tim runs, elated, from the club and jumps down onto the pavement from the wall.
Back at the bar, a hand, holding a bottle of good wine and two wine glasses, appears around the door of the office. We hear Leanne warble seductively, ‘Christy! Yoo-hoo!’
Hearing no reply, Leanne opens the door to an empty office. Christy is nowhere to be found. He’s left a note on the desk, however, telling her that he ‘had to go out’. Leanne’s face falls a mile.
Tim waits on the pavement, as Christy’s white van pulls up. He briefly tells Tim to get in, and Tim climbs inside. He doesn’t, however, tell Tim where the two are going.
Max and Sammy are still seated at the booth in the restaurant, chatting over their meal. Max observes that in the three months he’s been married to Jacqui, this is the first evening he’s spent with another woman. In fact, he ventures to add that until tonight, he wasn’t exactly interested in seeing another woman, until Sammy walked in the restaurant.
Sammy responds to the purported come-on, with one of her own. She and Max, she tells him, are really two of a kind.
What does she mean by that? Asks Max, innocently.
They are the sort, she explains, who live for the rush that comes with the promise of illicit sex, the sort who knowingly ‘do something that they shouldn’t’ simply for the passion and excitement of doing it.
Max can’t help making an aside. ‘So speaks the voice of experience,’ he quips.
Sammy isn’t clever enough to catch the irony in the comment. She explains her purpose. Why, it would just be two people getting together for some sexual fun and then returning to their respective partners afterward.
So ... Max begins, hesitatingly, it wouldn’t really MEAN anything?
Of course not, says Sammy, confidently.
No strings? Asks Max, as though he must make sure of the situation.
No strings, reiterates Sammy.
Max is quiet for a moment, as if deep in thought. Suddenly he asks Sammy exactly why she’s doing this?
Sammy’s caught off guard for a moment, but manages to stammer that she’s doing it because she fancies Max.
Max’s eyes narrow with suspicion. But surely, he goads, there must be something more to it than that?
Sammy gives the time-worn cliche that her husband doesn’t understand her, nor she him. Max wants to know why, and Sammy jokes that Richard is Polish. (It’s a poor joke, really). Sammy explains that Richard owns a chain of hotels around the world and she’s often left on her own.
Then why doesn’t she leave him? Asks Max, succinctly.
Because Richard is good to Louise, her daughter, she explains.
But, Max ventures further, what if Richard finds out about this fling?
He won’t, Sammy promises, firmly, and neither will Jacqui.
Back at the bar, Jacqui and Katie are still awkwardly facing each other. Jacqui tries to make an overture, admitting that perhaps it was time that they tried to get their friendship back on track. Katie, however, now seems reluctant to take the offered olive branch. (What else is new?). Jacqui suddenly reaches out and takes Katie’s hand, comfortingly. She knows how Katie’s suffered, she begins, but Katie doesn’t want to know.
Jacqui reiterates that she realises the terrible ordeal Katie’s had to face.
All of a sudden, poor, pitiful Katie’s Dixon-hate returns and she starts spitting venom (and inconsistencies). She hated what Ron did, she says, but what she hated most of all was the fact that Jacqui would never admit to her that what Ron did was wrong. She tells Jacqui that she never expected Jacqui to desert Ron, being his daughter, but it would have been nice if Jacqui had acknowledged that what Ron did, in shooting Clint, was wrong. But Jacqui had never ever said that.
(Wrong. Jacqui DID say it, many times, especially in the cold light of day immediately following the shooting. But Katie wanted more than this. KATIE WANTED JACQUI TO ABANDON ANY AND ALL SUPPORT OF RON AND TO SUPPORT HER ENTIRELY. WITHOUT THAT TOTAL SUPPORT, KATIE WITHDREW HER FRIENDSHIP. In fact, to that end, Katie did everything in her power to unhinge any familial support which Ron had, by undermining his wife and his daughter-in-law. Jacqui, on numerous occasions, said to this saddo, that whilst she didn’t condone what Ron had done, she understood WHY he did it and what drove him to do it).
‘So that’s it?’ Jacqui questions the greasy girl, in disbelief. ‘That’s what all the torment you’ve been heaping on me has been about all these past months? All’s you want is for me to say what me dad did was wrong? OK, he was wrong to get that gun and wrong to shoot Clint. There. I’ve said it.’
‘Boot, yer didn’t MEAN it,’ whines Katie.
No, Jacqui admits, she didn’t mean it. Because she understood what drove Ron to do what he did that night. And there was no further point in prolonging this evening, she says, with finality. She was going home.
Again, Katie protests. ‘NO!’ She exclaims, frantically. She catches herself suddenly, as she notice Jacqui’s suspicious look on her face. She amends herself by saying she wants Jacqui to stay so Jacqui could explain her side of the story. Katie wants to try to understand.
Tim and Christy are parked outside a large pub called The Black Bull, which looks to be fairly busy. Christy is explaining to Tim the reasons behind tonight’s heist. The brewery has this delivery man, Eddie. Eddie used to show up at Bev’s once weekly, take the proffered backhander off Christy, and leave a bit of his best brew at knock-down prices, which Christy would then sell on.
Suddenly, Eddie’s not making appearances anymore, and Christy’s found out now that, instead of coming by the bar, he’s been making his drop at the Black Bull. Christy got word that tonight Eddie’s due to make a drop. Now Eddie is a creature of habit. He usually arrives, enters the bar for his backhander, has a pint and then makes the drop. The plan is, whilst Eddie’s inside having his pint, Tim nicks the van. It’s payback time. All they had to do was wait for Eddie to arrive.
Back at the bingo club, Ray stands with a pint at the counter, chatting to one of the club’s employees, a dowdy, ordinary-looking woman (odd for Brookside) of about forty. She tells him he shouldn’t be wasting his time there, as the main session is about to start, but Ray doesn’t seem too bothered.
Noticing he seems a bit down and reticent, the woman asks if this is his first time there tonight. Oh, no, says Ray. He and his late wife used to come for about twenty years, he explains. In fact, she sat in one particular seat the whole time, called it her lucky seat.
Some players do have those sort of superstitions, the woman says, sympathetically.
It wasn’t so lucky for her, Ray says. She died in that seat two years ago, after having a full house.
Was that Ray’s wife? The woman asks in amazement. Why, they still talk about that woman.
At that moment, Jessie and Brigid descend upon Ray, reminding him that the main session’s starting. Ray is reluctant to play, but Brigid advises him that she’s bought his book for him and Jessie’s saved their seats. Each harpie taking an arm, they lead Ray away from the woman. (Oooooooh, I wonder who she is?)
Oustide The Black Bull, Tim and Christy await Eddie’s arrival. Just at that moment, two police cars screech by and instinctively, Tim and Christy duck behind the dashboard of the van. Two scallies bonding.
Jacqui and Katie are still at their stalemate over their drinks. Jacqui is becoming increasingly exasperated with Katie’s stubborn and blinkered attitude. Sighing in frustration, Jacqui admits that Ron’s buying the gun WAS wrong. She realises that, but he’s being punished for that crime now with a stint in prison. Oh, she realises that Katie might not think that 9 months was a long time to serve -
Four-and-a-half months is what Katie’s heard, Katie reminds her.
Even so, Jacqui continues, Ron’s paying for it with a prison sentence.
But, Katie points out, four months is no time. How could the jury do that?
Jacqui shakes her head. It’s not Ron’s fault or the jury’s fault that he got such a sentence. The jury found Ron not guilty. It was the judge who determined that he should serve time for possession of an illegal weapon. If Katie wanted to blame anyone, it should be the judge.
Ron pulled the trigger, Katie maintains stubbornly.
Jacqui tells the girl that she knows how Katie’s suffered because of that, but the Dixons have suffered too. She knows it was worse for Katie, but Katie going around wishing bad luck and tormenting Ron’s family wouldn’t accomplish anything.
But Ron was found not guilty, wails Katie. Didn’t Jacqui think that was wrong when he had taken a life.
‘Katie,’ Jacqui reminds her, ‘I’m biased, but the jury wasn’t. It was the jury who found me dad not guilty. Did you look at the jury? I used to think a jury was more or less comprised of men in suits, but when I looked at them, I was surprised how ordinary they were. They could have been a bus queue, they were so ordinary.’
What right did a bus queue have to determine that Clint had the right to die? Katie mutters sullenly, not wanting to listen to what Jacqui says.
Jacqui maintains that she never said that. She tells Katie that throughout the trial, she found herself looking at this ordinary jury, willing them to put themselves in Ron’s situation. There must have been someone amongst them who knew what it was like to be tormented by scallies, someone amongst them who had angina or knew someone who did. She wondered if anyone amongst them could imagine themselves in Ron’s predicament and ask themselves if they would react in the same way. Well, they must have, because, did Katie realise that their verdicts on Ron were unanimous? They were unanimous, she repeats for emphasis. They ALL voted Ron not guilty.
As if to drive home her point, she concludes. The odd thing is, that Jacqui knows that if Ron and Clint were taken out of the equation, and Katie were sitting on that selfsame jury, she would have voted the defendant not guilty too.
‘You hard-faced cow!’ Katie shouts at Jacqui. ‘Anyone with any conscience would have voted for the victim!’ She rises to her feet, holding her half-full glass threateningly over Jacqui.
Jacqui doesn’t even flinch. ‘Katie, put the glass down,’ she says firmly, as though she were talking ot Harry or Emma or Rachel. ‘Put the glasss down now or I’m going.’
Katie sullenly sits down. Maybe they shouldn’t pursue this subject, Jacqui suggests. There’s no point if someone is in danger of being hurt.
As Christy and Tim wait for Eddie’s arrival, Christy watches Tim mucking about with his mobile phone. He asks what the lad is doing. Tim tells Christy that he’s playing solitaire on the phone. It’s a state-of-the-art phone, his. You can play games, it’s a clock and a calculator as well as being waterproof. Er, can’t Christy play games on his phone.
Christy pulls his older, bigger phone from his pocket and gazes at it. No, he couldn’t do any of that with his model. But, he says, extending the antennae, he could pick his nose with it. (Yuck and gross. Not funny). Anyway, Christy brags, putting his phone away, he doesn’t have time to sit about playing with phones. He’s got his finger in all manner of things. (The mind boggles).
Tim asks Christy why he still works for a meat distributor, if he’s doing so well in all his other ventures.
The meat trade’s his front, explains Christy. A man in this business has got to have a legitimate front (unlike Emily, who’s front is anything but legit).
Tim remarks that he thought that the bar was Christy’s front.
Naaah, says Christy, dismissively. The bar’s his sideline.
But surely he must be raking a gold mine with that, probes Tim.
Christy gives Tim a knowing look. Ah, yes, but Tim wants to realise that Leanne’s a partner in that venture, and Leanne’s hand is in the till so much, that she wears the till like a glove.
Then it’s time Christy put his foot down, says Tim.
He does, admits Christy, whenever he sees Leanne’s face in his rearview mirror, he puts his foot down on the gas pedal and goes.
The two share a laugh, before Tim remarks that that wasn’t a very nice remark for Christy to make about his girl friend.
It is if your girl friend’s got a face like the butcher’s dog, says Christy.
Tim voices the realisation aloud that Christy doesn’t really like Leanne all that much, and that, if Leanne didn’t have the bar, he wouldn’t look twice at her.
That’s as may be, admits Christy, but he’ll bet on one thing - and that’s that Leanne will have that bar longer than Emily will have her looks. (Personally, I think Leanne is much prettier than Emily. Leanne is natural. Emily is plastic and orange, like a cross between a pornographic Barbie Doll and ET in drag).
Why did Tim marry Emily anyway? Christy asks. Is she pregnant by any chance? That’s usually the reason.
Tim gets defensive. He loves Emily, he says.
That’s still no reason to marry her these days, Christy observes.
Tim tries to deflect the conversation. He’s bored with waiting. Bored and cold.
Or is he getting cold feet? Teases Christy.
Tim takes umbrage to the slight on his courage.
‘Oh, that’s right, I forgot,’ chides Christy. ‘You bingo players have nerves of steel’.
Tim begins to wail that this Eddie will never show up. He wants to go home.
Back at the bingo club, the main session’s about to begin, but Ray sits morosely at the table. At the table behind him, Emily and Becky Big-Tits shove their respective pairs onto the table top, enabling their shoulders to have a rest and the gonadically challenged male viewers to take a peek at their surgically-enhanced cleavages. (It must be a helluva weight dragging those massive bazoongas around dangling from such dainty shoulders).
Big-Tits teases Emily again about her and Tim becoming bingo regulars. Emily turns to ask how her Nan and Brigid can play six cards at once. Jessie tells her that it’s actually easier because one has a better chance of getting all the numbers. As Jerome announces the beginning of the game, Brigid remarks that maybe someone will get lucky tonight.
Big-Tits asks Emily why Ray is so down in the mouth, and Emily explains to her that Ray’s EX-WIFE (er, how about Ray’s LATE wife, you ignorant shit?) died here whilst playing bingo two years ago. Big-Tits’s big gob is finally shut by that remark.
Tim sits impatiently in the van, playing endless games on his mobile, before Christy shouts at him to put that damned phone away. It’s getting on his nerves. What’s wrong with the art of conversation to pass the time?
Tim places the mobile on the dash, and as he does so, Christy’s glove compartment falls open and out plops a copy of PHWOAR! Magazine. Oh-ho, Tim can see how Christy passes the time on his own, he laughs, as he begins to thumb through the copy. Inadvertantly, his finger falls on a particularly inviting picture of Emily from her modelling stint. Tim shuts the magazine quickly, but not so quickly that Christy doesn’t recognise Emily’s plastic mug and duck’s arse mouth.
Tim quickly explains to Christy that Emily only did that sort of thing only once and that was a long time ago.
It’s nothing to be ashamed of, says Christy. But Tim takes umbrage and threatens to put Christy’s head through the windscreen if he continues.
Christy attempts to calm him down. After taking a gander at that picture, he says, it's easy to see why Tim loves Emily so ... But that was still no reason to marry her.
Tim replies that marrying Emily was the best thing he had ever done in his life.
Just at that particular moment, two willowy blonde dolly Scousers slink pass the van in the direction of the pub. Tim and Christy follow the two with their eyes. What Christy wouldn't give to be alone with one of them for awhile, he says.
Suddenly, he decides to play a little game of Scruples with Tim. Christy announces that he's the Devil on Tim's shoulder. Spreading his arm in the direction of the pub, he tells Tim that all that which he sees would be Tim's if he did one thing. Those two passing girls are emigrating tomorrow to Australia. But before they go, they want one good hard night of Scouse passion with Tim. Now, they'll be gone the next day. There'll be no phone numbers, no addresses, and Christy would guarantee that Emily would never find out because - well, because he's the Devil, and he can guarantee it. Would Tim have a bonk with the both of them?
Tim glances appreciatively in the direction of the departing women and says nothing. (You say it best, when you say nothing at all, and all that ...)
Ah-haaaaaa! Exclaims Christy, sounding like Alan Partridge. He knew it!
Tim suddenly denies that he would ever do such a thing. Why, being unfaithful to Emily, even the once, even if she didn't find out, would just do his head in. He just couldn't two-time Emily!
Back at The Shelf, Sammy is giving Max a brief summary of her marital situation. The gist of is that she's married to a rich man who's a let-down in the bedroom. She hadn't had a good night of back-clawing, raw, passionate sex for a long time, she moans. In fact, she says teasingly, she bets Max is in the same situation. After all, she heard that his children went with him and Jacqui on honeymoon.
Max listens attentively.
Does Max find that he's excited this evening? She asks provocatively, running her finger up and down her endless cleavage. Does he feel the rush of adrenalin? Is his stomach churning?
Yes, answers Max (although he doesn't elaborate why his stomach might be churning - the fact that she's so overt that she's making him ill).
Sammy suggests that they adjourn to the flat.
Max isn't sure. What about Nisha?
Oh, Nisha's out with mates, dismisses Sammy. She won't be back until late, if at all.
What about Katie? Max asks.
Well, Katie's having a drink with Jacqui tonight, Sammy explains. They're talking about renewing their friendship.
Oh, good, Max remarks. Jacqui will be pleased.
Yes, continues Sammy, without a pang of conscience. And if it all goes according to plan, they should end up in town someplace, so they'd have the place to themselves for hours. And she smiles invitingly at Max.
Back with the scallies, and Christy is still trying to get Tim to admit he would be unfaithful to the Mekon. What if Tim were on a desert island with the two dollies that passed by?
Tim tells Christy to shut up, again reiterating that his marriage to Emily was the best thing that happened to him in his life. In fact, the only reason at all that he was here tonight was for Emily's sake - so she souldn't have to work anymore, so they could have a decent house of their own.
The only reason Tim was here tonight, Christy reminds him, frankly, is because Christy is paying him to be here. End of story. And, he continues, changing the gist of the discussion, it's all very well and good Tim saying he would never cheat on Emily, but that didn't mean Emily wouldn't cheat on Tim. After all, if she took her top off for some photographer fella that she didn't even know -
Tim loses his cool at that remark and shouts that Christy is a no-mark. What the hell was Tim doing sitting here with the likes of him anyway? He knew scores of people when he was inside who could have got him any kind of good graft, but here he was, sat here with some butcher's boy, when he could be with some real men -
Hang on a minute, Christy interrupts him. The plain truth is that Tim's the no-mark. He's just a barman, whom Christy pays, and - if he wanted to - Christy could sack him just like that.
Well, he wouldn't have to sack him, Tim replies. Because he's resigning!
But just as Tim's beginning to rant, a big lorry pulls into the pub carpark. Christy recognises the driver as Eddie and is visibly shocked at the size of the lorry. He manages to calm Tim down by pointing out the new lorry - that's Eddie! He's arrived!
Katie and Jacqui are still at the bar, and even though Jacqui's suggested that they speak no more of Clint, Katie can't help dredging the subject up like vomit. She wants to know if Jacqui really meant it the other day at the petrol garage, when she said that Clint was a divvy?
Jacqui sighs and admits that she didn't mean it.
Then why did she say it? Katie demands .
Because sometimes, in the heat of the moment, people always say things that they don't mean, Jacqui replies, pointedly, directing the remark straight at Katie, who doesn't pick up on its meaning. She just meant that perhaps Clint made a mistake in deciding to follow Gobby to the Dixon house that night, if he really were there to warn the Dixons of Gobby's intent. He was just unlucky.
Oh, misinterprets Katie, deliberately, so her fella's a no-mark while Jacqui's is Mr Perfect.
Jacqui protests that she didn't mean that at all, but Katie interrupts her, trying to say that Jacqui's implying that Clint was either a burglar or thick (the latter, the latter!).
Jacqui puts an end to the discussion by reiterating firmly that Clint made a mistake and paid for it with his life.
Max suggests dessert for himself and Sammy, who agrees. Max then excuses himself to go order it in the kitchen. Sammy stops him. Doesn't he have staff to do that? She asks.
Well, yes, replies Max, smoothly, but he also wants to advise chef that he'll be popping out for an hour or two.
'Make it two,' quips Sammy.
As Max disappears down the corridor to the kitchen, Sammy reaches for her mobile and begins to text Katie.
Katie, meanwhile, is irritated with having to listen to Jacqui's version of events, so twisted is she about the sainted Clint. And now it's Katie who suddenly decides that this reunion drink isn't working. If she sits here listening to another word Jacqui has to say, she announces, she'll end up killing Jacqui. She grabs her bag and turns to go, Jacqui calling after her to come back.
But as she rounds the corner, she receives a text message from Sammy, advising her that everything is going according to plan with Max and that she should bring Jacqui to the flat in one hour's time.
After looking at the size of the rig that's just entered the pub carpark, Christy initially decides against proceeding with the planned heist. Tim, on the other hand, takes one look at the lorry and reckons their proverbial ship has docked. He is determined that the hijack proceed and can't understand Christy's reluctance.
Christy points out to Tim that the size of the lorry indicates that someone other than just Eddie is involved in this scam. That means more people are bound to be involved, but just what kind of people.
Tim is at his cockiest. So what? He reasons. It's the same risk for more stuff. They can't help but be better off. Again, Christy says the venture is too risky. Why, Eddie couldn't normally afford a rig like that on his own. He MUST be on someone else's payroll and Christy would rather not know who that person is. It's simply too risky.
Tim reminds Christy of the fact that he is only out of the Young Offenders' Institution on licence, which means that if he's caught, he's back inside; so he knows all about the risks involved. Tim decides that he'd rather take the risk involved.
Back at the bar, Jacqui sits alone at the table, after Katie has left, finishing her glass of wine, when suddenly Katie returns, carrying a fresh glass for her. Jacqui is surprised and comments that she thought Katie had left. Katie replies in an unconvincing monotone that she only went to the bar for the next round.
'But it's my round,' protests Jacqui. 'And anyway, I haven't finished this one.'
Katie plops the glass of wine down onto the table and sits down opposite Jacqui again. She suggests that perhaps they shouldn't talk about Clint, as it only makes her upset.
Well, then, says Jacqui, what does Katie suggest that they talk about?
Katie wants to talk about Jacqui and Max.
Max and Sammy, meanwhile, are having a lovely-looking dessert, a chocolate ice-cream concoction. Sammy eats her portion, with exaggerated sensuality remarking on the taste.
Max watches her with ill-concealed amusement, and tells her that this dish is the house special.
Provocatively licking her spoon, Sammy suggests that the two of them could always skip dessert.
Max demurs, saying that he would rather savour the moment. Besides, he continues, half the pleasure of the illicit act lies in the anticipation. Wouldn't Sammy agree?
Meanwhile, back at the bingo club, there's a lull in the action on the floor, as Jerome has a break from his duties. In the foyer of the club, Nikki accosts him as he leaves the podium. She asks, teasingly, if Jerome were allowed to accept the offer of a drink from a customer.
Jerome returns the joke. Is this a bribe? He asks. Seriously, he tells her that he can't, because if she should happen to win a round, and anyone should see the two of them together, it might be bad for Jerome. He wasn't allowed to fraternise with the clientele.
Suddenly Nikki grabs Jerome and pins him playfully against the wall, telling him how proud she was of him and how sexy he looked in his tux. She asks how long his break lasts, and Jerome replies that he gets a ten-minute break. Nikki then tells him how much she's sexually turned on by his performance on the podium, and suggests that they put the ten minutes allowed Jerome to good use. She's excited and wants a bonk now. (She's excited, all right, but only by the fact that Jerome seems to have already acquired a devoted following of young women who now seem to be regularly attending the club. She's motivated by jealousy, insecurity and fear).
Jerome, however, is not only astonished by this suggestion, he's very reluctant. Nikki persists. Surely, there must be some secluded spot in the building where they could indulge - a deserted office or broom closet.
The are briefly interrupted by people coming down the staircase, as Jerome tries to reason with Nikki. It's not that he isn't willing, he says, and he IS flattered and would love to oblige. It's just that he understands why Nikki's reacting this way, as if to prove a point, and particularly why she's acting this way this time of year.
Immediately, the spell is broken. Nikki appears to be offended, but one cannot help but notice a smirk on her face. (It's interesting to see that the new producer is treating Nikki's sartorial sense the same way his predecessor treated Jacqui and Katie. Jacqui, Katie and Nikki are all flat-chested females. No end of Wonderbras, gel bras or any other gravity-defying device could give any of that trio the cleavage they desired. Therefore, the key to their success is to put them into tops at least THREE sizes too small, which cause their treble-A cup sizes to be shown in all their glory, telling the male audience that these women may not be an Emily, a Big-Tits, a Lindsey or a Sammy, but they DO have breasts).
Nikki turns away from Jerome, having dishevelled his attire, telling him that he can 'put it back in now'. She's no longer in the mood. Why, Jerome did everything but mention Luke Musgrove's name; but just by implying Luke's history with relation to Nikki, Jerome stood no chance now.
Jerome, however, sees her smile and calls her bluff. Once again, Nikki starts demanding that Jerome find a broom closet of sorts in order that the two of them could seal their passion. Jerome protests that, if someone found out about this, he could get the sack; besides only five minutes of his break remain. Well, argues Nikki, that's all it would take. But then she relents and points out to Jerome that she's on a promise for later tonight at the bungalow.
(This segment was not only not funny, it was totally unnecessary, in the least).
Back at The Black Bull, Christy is trying to dissuade Tim from continuing with the heist of the booze lorry. He argues with the lad, saying that Tim had never driven anything of that size before.
Tim won't be swayed. There's always a first time, he insists, stubbornly.
But, Christy argues, Eddie would only be in the pub for some ten minutes - the amount of time it takes for the money to change hands and Eddie to down his pint. It would probably take Tim all of five minutes to get the rig started.
All the while Christy is arguing his point, Tim is dialling a number on his mobile. Christy's mobile rings. (It always amazes me how everyone on Brookside always is able to remember everyone else's mobile number). When Christy answers the phone, he finds that it's cheeky Tim. Sitting opposite Christy, Tim speaks into the phone and tells Christy to sit tight and keep an eye on the front door of the pub. Both will keep their phone lines open for communication.
Tim gets out of the van and pulls the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, as he saunters cockily off in the direction of the lorry.
'Look and learn, Christy,' he calls out. 'Look and learn.'
The conversation between Jacqui and Katie has now moved into the realms of Jacqui's relationship with Max. Jacqui begins by saying that she knows that Katie disapproves of her marrying Max Farnham.
Katie shrugs. Well, she replies smugly, if she had been on speaking terms with Jacqui during the past few months, she might have been able to warn Jacqui off Max. After all, she warned Jacqui off Nathan and also Gobby.
Jacqui gives Katie a quizzical look. 'Katie,' she begins, 'I didn't marry Nathan or Robby because of anything you said or had to say. I didn't marry them because it wasn't right for me.' (Ah, but Katie planted the initial doubts in Jacqui's mind about Nathan and did her utmost to disrupt things).
Katie remarks snidely that Jacqui appears to have landed on her feet, yet again, with Max.
Jacqui tells Katie that she really loves Max, and she wishes Katie could be happy for her, instead of chucking paint all over her and her new car.
Katie replies, jealously, that Jacqui has it all now - with her business and her house and husband and son. And daughter, Jacqui adds. She loves Emma just as much as Harry. And Katie will have the same one day, she promises.
No point feeling jealous, lies Katie, cattily. She's glad Jacqui found the perfect fella. But ... Isn't she worried about Max's marital history?
That's all changed now, says Jaccqui. Susannah's dying changed Max's attitude about marital fidelity.
Katie doesn't understand the logic behind this and asks Jacqui to explain.
Jacqui tries to demur, by saying that it's too long a story, but Katie insists. Why would Susannah falling down the stairs put Max off pursuing other women?
Because, Jacqui tries to explain, Max feels responsible. He feels that if he hadn't been unfaithful to Susannah, then they would never have got divorced and she would never have got engaged to Mick Johnson. They would still be married. It took that accident to convince Max that infidelity only causes unhappiness.
Hmph, snorts Katie, only if the other party finds out, she remarks. Why, she reckons that if Max were certain that Jacqui wouldn't find out, it wouldn't be long before he were up to his old tricks. Can Jacqui honestly say that she trusts him completely?
Yes, Jacqui replies, honestly. It's a husband and wife thing, she explains. You have to have complete trust in your partner.
Does she mean the way Anthea had such complete trust in Ron that she lied about Ron shouting a warning at Clint, sneers Katie, unable to drop the subject of the patron saint of ducks.
Jacqui shakes her head in exasperation. Anthea didn't lie for Ron, she explains wearily, she said what she thought was right. What did it matter if the time between the warning was five seconds or even two or three, Anthea said what she said in order to try to help Ron, because he was her husband. She was doing what any wife would do.
Katie's beady eyes narrow. Does Jacqui mean to say that if Max did something like commit murder, Jacqui would lie for him?
Of course, replies Jacqui, stoutly. In fact she would do and say anything she could that might prevent Max going to prison and would Katie like to know something else? Jacqui continues by saying that if the shoe were on the other foot and Clint had done something of the like, Katie, herself would move hell and high water and say anything to try to protect Clint. It's what a wife does.
Back at The Shelf, Sammy is finishing her dessert, with her shoeless foot nestled snugly in Max's crotch. She licks her spoon provocatively, telling Max that if she dropped this spoon on the floor, it would take her about ten minutes to find it.
Max deftly removes her foot and suggests that they adjourn upstairs to the flat. Sammy agrees.
Tim finds that the lorry's back doors are opened, but secured by a heavy chain. He informs Christy, however, that he thinks he can wedge himself inside.
At the bingo club, Jerome is again on the podium, announcing the big money game. Only a full house counts as a win. The big prize tonight is £100,000, with the regional prize being £3000. Immediately Emily and Big-Tits become interested. Jessie advises her table to concentrate, whilst Brigid says that maybe tonight they'll get lucky.
She always says that, jokes Jessie, and Brigid kisses Ray's pen for luck.
Meanwhile, back at the site of the proposed heist, Christy is begging into his phone for Tim to give the plan up. But Tim has managed to get inside the lorry's trailer and is amazed. It's chokka with drink from the top to the bottom. There's simply no way he's giving this one up.
Suddenly Christy warns Tim that Eddie's coming out the door of the pub. Tim climbs up on one of the drinks crates and hides behind some cartons.
The big-money bingo game is in full flow. Emily and Big-Tits, suddenly interested in possibly winning three grand, now play with a passion. Jessie, glancing at the two of them, mentions to Nikki that the two tarts seem to have changed their tune about bingo. Ray mentions casually that he only needs one number for a full house.
Back at The Black Bull, Christy rings Tim, who's hiding in the back of the lorry. He tells Tim that Eddie and the landlord are unloading the gear, whilst Tim burrows further back into the cartons of ale. Christy continues to keep watch.
As Jerome continues to call the bingo numbers, Ray finds he has a full house and excitedly shouts, 'BINGO!' He's won three thousand pounds!
At The Shelf, Max suggests to Sammy that they make their way up to the flat. Sammy smiles seductively, saying that she's ready, with a double entendre meaning. They leave the table and head for Nisha's flat. (By the way, did anyone catch the fact that the alleged terrorist ship in the Channel is named the Nisha? Says it all).
After the latest outburst of emotion between the two, Katie casually invites Jacqui up to the flat as well when they've finished their drinks session at the bar. She has a bottle of wine she's been saving for a special occasion. They may as well finish off the evening upstairs. Jacqui agrees that this is a good idea.
After Eddie and the landlord have unloaded the consignment of booze, Tim moves stealthily to the door of the trailer. As he's about to open it, Eddie takes off in the lorry. Tim is trapped inside. He screams down his mobile to Christy to get him out.
At that moment, the viewers are treated to cliff-hanging background music that's supposed to be suspenseful, but isn't. It's a weird conglomeration of harpsichord/spinet, with a dash of NYPD and a little bit of Bodie and Doyle. It's neither clever, suspenseful nor tasteful. Just cheap.
The creepy music continues as we see the lorry travel through the streets of Liverpool, followed by Christy's ubiquitous white van in hot pursuit. Tim is holding onto cartons and crates in the trailer, being jiggled about by the motion of the vehicle, whilst he holds onto his mobile, in constant communication with Christy.
Illogically, unreasonably and in extremely bad taste, given the number of children and mentally-challenged adults who watch the programme, Tim shouts at Christy, 'Get me out of here, you tosser!' (Yes, Christy IS a tosser, but Tim is a bigger one).
Sammy and Max have reached the entrance to the flats on The Parade. As they approach the door, Sammy pretends to stumble and falls prettily against Max, who gallantly catches her in his arms. She hangs onto him in a provocative manner and jokes that she's fallen for him already.
She opens her handbag and begins to fumble for her key, which she appears to have lost, as Max glances uneasily about The Parade. Suddenly, he spies a young woman emerge from the bar. At first glance, she resembles Jacqui very closely, but on second glance, she's much taller and is accompanied by another girl.
As soon as Max spies her, he leaps behind Sammy and plasters himself flat against the door to the flats. He voices the opinion that this venture doesn't seem to be a very good idea. Sammy glances at the two girls and then gives a deprecatorily dismissive glance in Max's direction. She tries to encourage Max by reassuring him that Jacqui and Katie will be in town all night. (Isn't Max concerned about who will be looking after his children?) Besides, it isn't as if they have never done this sort of thing before, themselves, she reminds him.
Max is hesitant. Is she absolutely certain that Katie and Jacqui are going into town after finishing their meeting at the bar? Sammy assures him that they are.
But what if they change their minds and Katie returns? Asks Max, gulping.
Sammy assures him that they won. Max should trust her. (Yeah, sure).
The current Mrs Farnham and Katie are, indeed, still seated in the bar. Small talk is becoming harder and harder for either of them to come by. Katie finally asks if Mike and Rachel will be spending Christmas over at Chateau Farnham. Jacqui says that they won't be, and when Katie questions why not, Jacqui merely replies that Mike and Rachel had decided that they wanted the three of them to have Christmas on their own, for lack of anything better.
Katie asks politely if Harry and Emma are looking forward to Christmas. Ah, but Jacqui will have the perfect Christmas, won't she? With her nice house and her oosbund and her 2.4 children. She'll even have Bing Crosby on the stereo singing 'White Christmas'.
Jacqui merely replies that she hopes that it's a nice day for all concerned.
Katie remarks sullenly that it will be for some people.
Jacqui, with a hint of exasperation in her voice, tells Katie that Christmas is what you make of it.
Katie retorts that Christmas is for families.
Yes, agrees Jacqui, and Katie will have her sister with her.
Yes, Sammy, sure, quips Katie, sarcastically. Still, Sammy wouldn't compare with Christmas with the Farnhams.
'Come on, Katie,' remarks Jacqui, 'Sammy's your only sister. Surely that must mean something to you, having her here with you this Christmas. Anyway, Christmas isn't a competition.'
Besides, Jacqui continues, in case Katie's forgotten, Jacqui will be without her dad this Christmas.
Ah, but there's always next year, Katie replies, snidely. Whereas the sainted Clint will never see another Chrimbo.
Jacqui apologises, admitting that she shouldn't have mentioned Ron. She knows it's worse for Katie, but she's heard that the first year without someone is always the worst. In normal circumstances, she supposes Katie would be invited over to the Farnhams for Christmas dinner.
Katie mutters that they can't change what had happened.
Jacqui remains hopeful. Maybe one day they could put this all behind them.
But it will never be the way it was, insists Katie.
The silly background music continues. As the lorry carries on its magical mystery tour, with its unknown occupant, Tim screams down the mobile to Christy to do something. Christy screams back that he's trying to think of a plan.
Plan! Tim exclaims. The plan should be for Christy to get his rattletrap van in front of the juggernaut!
The bingo gang gather around discussing Ray's windfall. Emily stands next to her sister, musing about what she would be able to do with £3000. Suddenly and suspiciously, Nikki asks the whereabouts of Tim.
Emily, using one of her typically overstated mug-face of someone who's blatantly lying, looks the opposite way of Nikki, rolling her eyes and says that Tim had to go home, as there was something on television that he wanted to see.
Nikki doesn't buy that line for a minute, and Emily excuses herself to go to the toilet, where she can indulge in spilling some real shit. Nikki moves over to talk to her Nan, remarking on how brilliant Jerome was. Jessie agrees. And as for the bingo, why, even Emily and Becky Big-Tits were hooked.
Ray, in the meantime, has taken his card to the cashier for verification and to have the cheque drawn out for him. He talks to the same forty-something woman with whom he had spoken earlier. As she asks his name, he tells her it's 'Ray Hilton'. Suddenly, a funny look comes over this woman's face. He's a very lucky man, she tells him. As he's had a winning, will he be coming back sometime soon?
Ray blushes at the attention, and tells the woman he may pop in from time to time.
She smiles warmly at him and tells him that she'll be sure to look out for him.
The Dark Shadows/NYPD/Sopranos soundtrack continues, as the truck carries on through the streets of Liverpool, followed by Christy. In the trailer, Tim asks Christy via the mobile if he knows where they are headed. Christy remarks that it looks as though they were going out of the city. Tim asks Christy where he is and Christy tells him that he's right behind the truck. Suddenly, the connection between the two phones goes choppy and then dead.
Sammy leads Max into the flat and pours him another glass of wine. As she walks from the kitchen area into the lounge where Max is sitting, she turns off a lamp, dimming the light in the flat. There was too much light, she explains as she does this. She likes a dim, subdued light. Like in the restaurant. She is of the opinion that lights are dim in restaurants so people can't see what's going on under the tables.
As she hands him the glass of wine, she shoves her tits in his face in a way she thinks is provocative.
Max can't help but gaze at her cleavage, remarking awkwardly that she certainly doesn't look like someone who would have a ten year-old daughter.
At first Sammy mocks offense, but Max stammers that he didn't mean it to sound that way. He was used to older mothers - er, women. The sort, he explains, who need reassurance about their stretch marks -
... Or their saggy boobs? Finishes Sammy. That's something Max won't have to worry about with her.
Max makes an awkward attempt to reach out to Sammy and, in doing so, upsets the glass of wine she holds in her hand, spilling it down her cleavage an onto her dress.
Sammy makes light of it. Perhaps Max did that so he would be able to lick it off? She wonders aloud. Still, it gives her a good excuse to change into something more comfortable, and she leaves the room for her boudoir. Max is left with a pensive look on his face.
The eerie but silly music continues, and we see the lorry turn into what appears to be a deserted industrial estate. Christy follows, stopping inside the gate only to cut his lights and follow the vehicle. The lorry parks around the corner, and the driver gets out of the cab, as Christy sneaks around the corner. We see the driver place the key to the lorry on the top of the front tyre on the driver's side.
As Christy watches, Eddie gets into another car and drives off. As he leaves, Christy runs in the direction of the parked lorry. I must say something about Christy's run, which was the funniest thing about this whole episode. He runs like the old comedian Stan Laurel, as though Laurel were trying to lay an egg or hold a turd in his arse. It's positively hilarious.
He rings Tim's mobile to tell the lad that Christy's now right outside the door. He can only open it so far, however, because it's still chained shut. He tells Tim that he's going to have a look around the cab to see if the departed driver has left any keys. He then scurries around to the cab and climbs up to have a look inside. As he does so, his left foot grazes the front tyre and the keys drop to the ground with a plop. Christy discovers them.
Back at NNT, Sammy has adjourned to one of the bedrooms of the flat, where she's stripped off to her black undies, towelling the wine off her boobs. With her free hand, she quickly texts Katie that it's OK to bring Jacqui up to the flat soon. Smiling to herself, like the cat that's caught the canary, Sammy stands up and slips her arms into a sheer black negligee over the underwear ensemble.
But something isn't quite right about sexed-up Sammy. It would look more normal and seductressy if she had been wearing a suspender belt and black stockings. Or even black hold-ups. But nooooooooooo! SAMMY'S WEARING SHEER TIGHTS UNDER HER BLACK NICKERS. THE TYPE OF EXPENSIVE SHEER TIGHTS THAT ARE NUDE ALL THE WAY UP SO PEOPLE LIKE LIZ HURLEY AND KELLY BROCK CAN WEAR DRESSES SLIT UP TO THEIR CROTCHES!!!! IT'S THE FUNNIEST 'NATURAL' MOMENT ON TELEVISION SINCE DAPHNE GAVE BIRTH THROUGH HER TIGHTS BY THE SIDE OF THE STREAM!!!! AND THE TIGHTS ARE SUPPORT TIGHTS AS WELL. What's not funny, but assuringly normal, is that Sammy has thunder thighs and saddle bags. How long before the Brookside bods slim her down to nothing?
Sitting in the bar, Katie's phone signals incoming text message. Eyeing Jacqui who sits opposite, Katie checks the message. Curious, Jacqui asks who the message is from.
It's from Nisha, stammers Katie. Apparently Nisha texts Katie all night when she's out and had a few.
Well, Jacqui asks, what's the goss then?
Nothing, really, Katie lies, uneasily. She just says she's having a good time, she's copped off with some bloke.
That's surprising, laughs Jacqui, considering the fact that Nisha's spent half the night on the phone to Katie. One would have thought she didn't have time to cop off.
Katie tries to change the subject abruptly, asking if they can make a move soon for the flat.
Well, actually, Jacqui says, she's been having second thoughts about that and all. She's not bothered about going back to the flat tonight. She's got to be up by 6:30 tomorrow morning, and for every hour after midnight, a babysitter charges time and half.
Katie begs Jacqui to reconsider, but Jacqui refurses. She could really do with the sleep, and anyway, she thinks more wine could be a bad idea.
Well, how about just a cup of coffee then? Pleads Katie. She wouldn't have to stay long for that, and they were making such progress talking too.
Finally Jacqui agrees to go after they've finished their drinks.
Christy scurries back to the rear of the trailer and fumbles with the padlock and key. As he's doing so, an S-reg Saab pulls up and parks nearby and two burley men get out. Seeing them approach the trailer, Christy tells Tim to shut up. He dashes to the front of the lorry on the opposite side to the men, who are now at the rear of the trailer. Christy quickly climbs into the cab, starts the motor and drives off, to the surprise of the two men.
The two dash back to the car and follow suit. Christy mutters incoherently, trying to shift the juggernaut into second gear, and moaning that he can't drive the thing.
As Jacqui and Katie walk along The Parade, Katie thanks Jacqui for coming that evening. She admits that she's been a cow lately.
Max, meanwhile, is sitting alone in the flat, awaiting the dreaded return of Sammy. Suddenly, he pulls his mobile from his pocket, gets up from the sofa, and takes a gander down the foyer leading to the door. Then he appears to be checking his mobile phone. Unable to see something, he moves and turns on the lamp in front of the door to one of the bedrooms.
At that moment, the bedroom door opens and Sammy emerges in her undies, tights, and sheer negligee. Max moves clumsily and manages to knock the lamp to the floor. He backs away in the direction of the couch, as Sammy approaches him predatorilly. He's apologising profusely for breaking the lamp and offering to fix it.
Sammy brushes his apologies aside.
'Honestly,' stammers Max, in old-fashioned Max-style. 'I can fix it. All it needs is a little screw.'
'Don't we all,' quips Sammy as she tips him onto the couch and falls on top of him. 'This is just like old times.'
As she wiggles on top of a struggling Max, the door to the flat opens and Katie and Jacqui enter. Sammy looks up and Max sits up. Jacqui's face is a picture of horror at seeing Max. Max immediately asserts to his wife that things aren't what they seem, but Sammy innocently maintains that the couple were only having a bit of fun.
Jacqui raises her eyebrows convincingly. Well, she certainly hopes that Sammy and Max enjoyed themselves. She tells Max that she'll see him around and storms out of the flat. Max swiftly follows, making sure he leaves the front door open.
Left alone, Katie looks at her sister uneasily. Did Sammy really do it with Max? She asks.
Sammy smiles smugly and lies, saying that she did indeed. Patting her ample tits appreciatively, she reflects. 'These never let me down.'
Christy struggles to drive the lorry, unable to increase the speed of the cumbersome vehicle. Tim is struggling himself in the trailer, being pushed about by the awkward manoeuvres. It's a wonder the booze hasn't spilled all over the place and broken, but hey - this is Brookside! The irritating background music continues, in an unsuccessful attempt to make Brookside look one place more upmarket than its award-winning counterparts, Eastenders and Coronation Street. (Come to think of it, I'd love to see Alaistair McGowan do a take-off on Brookside. Can you imagine Ronnie Ancona with balloons in her chest and an orange face, screeching unintelligibly as Emily, or with a bobbed wig and errrming as Jacqui Dixon?) As Christy drives maniacally, trying to out-manoeuvre the pursuing villains, his mobile rings. Of course it's Tim, who pleads for Christy to confirm that it is he who is driving the lorry.
Ray's new-found fan club of Jessie, Brigid, Nikki et al surround the newest celebrity. Everyone is wondering what Ray's going to do with his winnings. Emily fantasizes about what she would do with £3000. Brigid suddenly remarks that her share - £1000 - would come in very handy.
Everyone stops chattering. Jessie is the first to recover from the shock. There's been a misunderstanding, she tells Brigid. This win isn't going to be shared.
But, Brigid protests, they always share.
Yes, says Jessie, when the two of them come on their own, they agree that any winnings will be shared; but this is Ray's win. Brigid protests that she bought the game books for Ray.
And he paid you back for them, remarks Jess, tartly.
'It's all right for you,' Brigid retorts. 'You're likely to get a share of the prize, yourself.'
Jessie replies piously that that's a decision Ray will have to make. The plain fact of the matter is that there was no agreement beforehand to split any winnings, so there'll be no split.
Brigid is mightily offended and demands that Plank take her home. Big-Tits reminds Plank that he planned on coming into town with the rest of them, but Plank cries off, saying he has to go after his grandmother.
As Brigid leaves in a huff, Jessie shouts after her that Jess will expect an apology in the morning.
After the Farnhams have left, Sammy continues to lie to Katie. What a perv that Maxie Farnham was, she elaborates. Why, he was all over her. He couldn't keep his hands on her. Spilled his wine down her front, just to get her to strip off and -
Suddenly the sound of clapping hands resounds in the foyer leading into the flat and Max and Jacqui reappear, applauding wildly. What a virtuoso performance, Max remarks. Jacqui tells the two women that they really ought to consider a career in acting.
Katie and Sammy are speechless as they look at each other, uncomprehendingly. What's this all about?
Jacqui and Max announce that they were onto the two of them from the very beginning this evening. They weren't fooled at all. Come on, jibes Max, you didn't really think he would do something like that with Sammy Rogers?
That would really be scraping the bottom of the barrel, laughs Jacqui, cruelly.
Sammy scrunches up her face in anger. Oh no? She says, trying to save face. Then why did Max sling wine all over her, as well as come onto her all night long?
To see how far Sammy would go, Jacqui retorts.
Max explains that he's been phoning and texting Jacqui all night about what had been happening at the restaurant. Why did Sammy think Max kept disappearing all those times?
Jacqui remarks that she had known something was in the offing the moment she witnessed Katie walk down her driveway and put a vicious scratch down the side of the car with her keys. Then Sammy shows up at the restaurant tonight all dolled up. The couple put two and two together.
Sammy turns to Katie and tells her frantically that the Farnhams are lying. They're trying to save face, she says.
Well, says Jacqui, holding out her mobile phone. Here are the call times. Sammy could check them herself to see how many phone and text calls Max made to Jacqui that evening.
Jacqui then looks at Katie, who's looking increasingly shame-faced. How could Katie do this to her? She asks disbelievingly. Didn't Katie listen to anything Jacqui said that evening?
Katie can't meet Jacqui's stare.
The couple leave the flat, as Sammy shouts after them that Jacqui's husband is a filthy, lying cheat.
Katie tells her to shut up.
Christy tells Tim by mobile that the villains are still following him. Immediately, he says that, the Saab pulls beside the lorry on the road and the man in the passenger seat draws his finger across his neck as he looks at Christy, indicating that Christy is a dead man. As the lorry approaches a stop light, Christy runs it. In the trailer, Tim and a couple of cartons fall over. The Saab can still be seen in the rear view mirror.
Max and Jacqui walk along The Parade, wrapped in each other's arms and laughing about the night's happenings. Max is telling Jacqui about Sammy's remark about needing a little screw, and Jacqui relates the segment when she ordered Katie to put the glass down in the bar. Honestly, she says, laughing, Max deserves an award for putting up with Sammy Rogers all night, especially when she stripped off for him.
The couple stop and share a kiss. Jacqui wants to know if Max were attracted to Sammy Rogers? Did she get him going?
Max teases his wife, saying that Sammy was attractive - in a laddish magazine sort of way.
Jacqui pronounces Sammy a prime slut.
Again, Max reiterates teasingly that Sammy wasn't unattractive. By now they're near the bus shelter, and Jacqui tells him that he's way out of order in his remarks. Max then pins Jacqui against the bus shelter and pleads his case. What's he expected to do, with a wife who's always tired.
Well, says the wife, she's not tired tonight, and Jacqui appears to undo Max's belt and fly whilst he pushes against her in the bus shelter. This is Brookside at its utmost worst.
Emily is taking her leave of Jessie at the bungalow. Jessie is surprised that Emily didn't go into town with Nikki and Jerome, but Emily cries off and heads toward the bungalow. After Emily leaves, Jessie looks after her, in the direction of the Murray home. She wonders aloud to Ray if Brigid might be over there. Perhaps she should call in and see. She feels awful about the disagreement.
Ray suggests that it might have been better to let Brigid have the £1000.
But would Brigid have done the same for them? Asks Jess sceptically.
Ray admits that that's something they'll never know.
Calling him 'Rockefeller', Jess tells him it's time for bed, but Ray insists on locking up first.
The villains are still close behind Christy's confiscated lorry. Tim urges him on the mobile to go faster. Suddenly they approach a road-works barrier. Christy crashes through it with the lorry, but he Saab is stuck in soft earth and bollards. Christy takes a nearby roundabout and appears to lose the car.
Sammy is still banging a gong about Max and Jacqui. That Jacqui Dixon! How dare she come the high and mighty with Sammy! So smarmy and condescending were Jacqui and Max!
Katie is disgusted by Sammy and by herself. She tells Sammy that she never should have listened to Sammy in the first place. She feels dirty from doing what she did.
The door buzzer sounds and Katie goes to answer it, as Sammy continues ranting. Jacqui Dixon deserves everything she got tonight, she moans, for doing what she did to Katie.
Katie stands by the buzzer, listening to Sammy. From the intercom, we hear what sounds like a childish voice, saying 'Mum'. Not responding to the voice, Katie looks over her shoulder at Sammy and tells her that she's poison. We hear the faint childish voice asking, 'Is that you, Auntie Katie, before Katie absently tells the disembodied voice to come up.
Turning her attention back to Sammy, Katie tells her sister that perhaps it's time she left after this.
But, asks Sammy, where was she to go?
Back to her husband, quips Katie.
Sammy, sitting on the sofa and still wearing the black undies and the see-through negligee, loudly calls Katie an ungrateful cow, as the door opens to reveal a small, rat-faced girl in a school uniform, looking as though she could be the spawn of Lance Powell. It's Louise, Sammy's daughter, carrying a suitcase.
Katie expresses surprise and calls out her name.
'Louise?' Questions Sammy, rising from the sofa and trying to cover herself, modestly. 'My Louise?'
When the rat-faced kid sees her mother from hell, she begins a lament in a whiney Scouse voice. Where had her moom been? Louise had left loads of messages and so had Richard. Then she tells her mother that the school had asked her to leave.
Interlude: Emily returns to Hotel Corkhill and opens the door to the new Timily bedroom. Tim isn't there.
Thinking that they've lost the villains, Christy and Tim are elated and cheer as the lorry goes along. Christy tells Tim that they'll park the lorry somewhere along the Dock Road and keep their heads down until the initial heat dies down. Then they'll just sit back and watch the money roll in.
Tim asks where they are, and Christy tells him that they are by the river. Five more minutes, he tells the lad, and they're home and dry. But suddenly up ahead, a car approaches them with its lights full beam and blinding Christy. As the car approaches, Christy sees that it's the villains, who've outsmarted them. Christy hits the gas and the lorry takes off, but he swerves and the vehicle dovetails, with the trailer swinging in the direction of the river. The back door opens and all the contents, plus Tim, fall out into the Mersey.
Christy stops the truck immediately and runs to the trailer, calling for Tim. There is nothing inside, as the creepy music swells. Christy looks at the floating stock in the river and calls Tim's name, but sees nothing. Suddenly from behind, a hand lands on Christy's shoulder and he's hauled away by the men in the Saab.
Is this the best Brookside can offer for Christmas?
Summary © 2001 Marion Watts
Brookside and all related materials are © Mersey Television 1982-2001