One might be forgiven for thinking this had an ulterior meaning on Brookside, but it should be remembered - Friday’s episode aside - Brookside’s characters are surprisingly monogamous. Emily may look and sound like a quayside whore, but she’s only been with one fella, after all.
Actually, the most promiscuous characters of all are really the Rogers’ girls. (As posh Debs once said, ‘Rogers by name, rogers by nature’). In other words, I suppose one can say that Katie and Sammy are veritable slags. But with a difference. Sammy embodies the word in a verisimilitude to Samantha in Sex and the City. At her best, Sammy has the potential to be a happy slag, a tart with a heart, someone we could potentially love, perhaps the natural successor to Bev. Katie, on the other hand, is destined to be a miserable slag, someone reduced to using sex as a comfort toy, convinced in her mind of her own self-worthlessness and picking up any man/boy that comes into her sphere at whatever cost as a desperate substitute for happiness and forever measuring that happiness against the standard set by Jacqui.
Therefore, Katie has passed her sell-by date, whereas Sammy remains fecund and fresh, oozing with potential.
Other characters worry me, however, in particular, Bev. I can see the ‘repetitive storyline’ curse looming threateningly in the background. Why? Well, consider this. Bev lived for years with Ron Dixon, as his mistress. She spent one night of passion (passion?) with Mike, Ron’s son, resulting in Josh (beautiful baby who should be seven years old now, but progressed into looking like an eight year-old ‘son of Lance’ and now resembles an eleven year-old ‘son of Gobby’). She had a relationship with the departed Dave Burns, a lavender marriage with the departed Fred, and now she’s about to bonk Jimmy on the pool table at the bar. That means she’s snogged three long-term and present characters and two short-term fellas. The mind boggles at what remains - Ray, Marty, even Christy Murray, Plank, Tim, Max, Dr Gary, Lance (Oh my God!) ... Is she in danger of picking up where Susannah left off? Will we find her impaled on a pool cue one morning at the bereft bar? Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts and minds of Brookside’s writers? (But it better be good!)
It’s the morning of Valentine’s Day and Nikki and Jerome stand in the lounge of Hotel Corkhill, happily examining their ‘anonymous’ Valentine’s Day cards. Nikki, touchingly, thanks Jerome, who returns her thanks; but Jerome expresses worry about Nikki’s current financial situation.
He implores Nikki to think again about accepting the £1000 offered her by Dimily.
Nikki is adamant about refusing the offer. She appreciates it, but it goes against all her principles even to contemplate accepting it.
At that moment, Dimily, themselves, happily enter the fray, Emily bearing a humongous and tacky Valentine’s Card, courtesy of Tim the Dim. Sorry, but they bore me so very much that I went onto autopilot and blanked their unintelligible and unintelligent dialogue out.
Next door at Sitcom House, Marty and Dire anxiously examine a brilliant red envelope addressed to Antony. It’s obviously a Valentine’s card, but it worries the couple. They smell a windup, considering Ant’s latest spate of troubles at school and debate whether or not they should open it.
If they open it, argues Marty, it’s as if they were prying, but Dire suspects this could be the work of Paige and Imelda.
Ant enters the room, curious as to the contents of the card. Helpfully, Dire suggests that she and Marty open the card for the lad. Maybe what’s inside might not be very nice, she hints. And maybe it’s just an ordinary Valentine’s card, suggests Marty, wearily. (He always sounds weary these days; living with Dire, amongst other marital duties, must be very trying).
Ant takes the card from his dad and insists on opening it. Of course, it’s anonymous, and when he reads the contents, his face falls a mile.
There, he says, tonelessly, handing the card back to Marty. His parents can read it now, for themselves. And he excuses himself to leave for school.
Marty begins to read the hand-written message inside the card:
‘Leaves in the winter,
Flowers in spring,
We’ll soon have a rope,
To watch you swing.’
Marty and Dire exchange a justifiably preoccupied look.
Over at Chateau Farnham, Jacqui Dixon-Farnham opens a sentimental Valentine from her new husband. She smiles smugly and looks lovingly at the box containing a posh pair of cufflinks she’s bought him as a Valentine’s present.
Dimily and Jerome are still languishing at Hotel Corkhill, when Jess’s mellifluous tones can be heard from the foyer of the house, calling Jerome’s name.
As she walks into the room, Emily explains that Nikki’s not there, before excusing herself to go to work. Jessie isn’t there to see Nikki, she’s after Jerome. Is Jerome by any chance working at the bingo club this evening?
Jerome confirms that he is.
In that case, asks Jess, could she beg a lift from him?
Well, yes, stutters Jerome, with surprise, but he had to leave early.
No problem, confirms Jess.
Jerome asks if Brigid will need a lift as well.
‘Oh, Brigid’s not going,’ says Jess, mysteriously, ‘not tonight anyway.’
Bev stands back in the middle of the bar, having just finished decorating the place in anticipation of tonight’s new opening. She glances with satisfaction at a big banner hung over the bar, proclaiming, ‘Under Old Management’.
Jacqui is now over at Number 8, visiting Rachel. She’s set up a child’s play tent in the dining room area, and Harry, Emma and Beth happily sit inside. Rachel, who’s trying to behave as though she has a brain, thanks Jac-keh for bringing the tent over. It were joost the thang fer kids, oooh, they look so hap-peh.
Well, there’s just so much space for something like this in this house, Jacqui remarks. Over at Chateau Farnham, it would just end up in the garden. Rachel asks Jac-keh what plans she and Max have for Valentine’s Day evening.
Max is working, Jacqui informs her, primly. But they might be doing something romantic later ... If Maxim plays his cards right.
Rachel says that M-eye-ke’s working that evening to and remarks that Bev’s having an opening at the bar tonight. She thought that if Jac-keh and Max weren’t doing anything, perhaps they’d show up at Bev’s Bar.
Jacqui shakes her head. Bev’s certainly got her work cut out. That place is a dire shambles now, thanks mainly to Leanne Powell’s connivance. Did Rachel remember when Jacqui opened the bar as her business four years ago?
(Well, Jacqui, Rachel might have a hard time remembering that. Basically because not only is Rachel incapable of holding a memory that far back, but also because you opened the bar in 1997, not 1998, which is FIVE years ago - and even the Official Forum acknowledges THAT faux pas).
Rachel, not understanding the scope of remembering anything past the day before, lies and says, ‘yeaaaaaah’ wistfully, as Jacqui continues a mini-rant about the bar.
Yes sirree, that place was a shambles now. Oooh, what she wouldn’t give to get a grip of that bar again. Why, she and Max could would soon sort that place out.
Suddenly, Jacqui has an idea. As both Max and Mike had to work that evening, why doesn’t Rachel come over and share a bottle of wine with Jacqui?
Oooh, says Rachel, tempted by the offer, boot wha’bowt kids?
Jacqui jokes that she’ll leave them there in the tent. They seem happy enough.
Plank sits on the sitcom sofa, counting out his ill-gotten gains on the coffee table in front of him. Dire enters the room and her kohl-rimmed eyes grow into saucers at the sight of the pile of money in front of Plank.
She’s immediately suspicious. Wherever did Plank get that pile? Looks like dodgy money to her.
Plank replies cheekily that he didn’t get it from an insurance job, if that’s what Dire means.
Taking the hint, Dire seethes that she could murder Marty for trying a scam like that.
Marty, entering the room on the tail-end of the conversation, argues that the failure of the insurance job wasn’t his fault.
Dire draws Marty’s attention to the small fortune lying in front of Plank on the coffee table, wondering if Mr Big (Marty) and his henchman (Plank) were about to plan their next caper.
Plank feels the need to lie and tells his parents that the money on the coffee table is cash in hand he’s got from doing various mechanical jobs on people’s cars.
Jimmy the Sage has dropped by Bev’s Bar and stands admiring the transformation Bev’s effected on the place. Everything now looks nice and tidy. Is Bev all ready for the big night? He asks.
Bev’s curiously doubtful. She doesn’t know why, but everything now just ‘feels different’. She actually feels like a stranger in her own home.
Jimmy jollies her along. It will be all right when the people start showing up, he encourages.
Bev is feeling introspective. She admits to Jimmy that maybe it’s time she took stock of where she was going in life.
With the wind up her sails, Dire’s starting to nag Marty about his failed insurance scam. She whinges that she couldn’t understand why Marty was prepared to risk everything for a few poxy pounds.
But, Marty argues, everything would have been fine if Plank hadn’t walked in on Tim roughing the place up. Anyway, the whole caper was Christy’s idea.
Dire isn’t at all surprised, but she now moves onto another tack. On the subject of Ant’s poison pen Valentine’s card, did Marty manage to have a word with Mrs Plummer.
Yes, confirms Marty, but the Head pointed out to him that there was no proof the card had even been sent by Paige and Imelda; but she had promised him to keep an eye on the two girls. What more can she do? Marty asks, fairly.
Dire rolls her saucer eyes heavenward and grimaces. ‘Why does everything happen to our family?’ She asks, self-centredly.
Plank sneers briefly and takes great pleasure in pointing out to the selfish cow that there are others right on the same street who are worse off than she’ll ever be. Look at the Hiltons, he says. They’ve lost everything.
Marty departs and Dire is forced to admit that what Plank says is the truth.
Plank points out to her that she takes on too much.
Dire’s awful mouth assumes a self-righteous moue and she declares, ‘It’s what’s called "being a moother".’
And she’s a brilliant moom, assures Plank. And he knows what a hard time his parents have had lately. That’s why he’s making a gift of this £500 he’s earned.
Dire makes a token hesitation before greedily grasping the wodge of bills. Just don’t tell Marty, she admonishes. It still wasn’t right that he had tried to fiddle that insurance money, but this, and she grips the money tightly in her fat fist, THIS is money truly earned by hard graft.
Plank gulps uneasily. (If the sainted bleached-brain only knew!)
Back at the bar, Jimmy helps Bev effect a final tidy-up. Bev admits to Jimmy that she’s worried about Josh.
Josh? Repeats the Sage. No worries there. Josh is tough, like RWills.
Speaking of Wills, Bev interjects, why wasn’t he at the Pancake Party the previous evening?
Oh, that was all down to the Screaming Banshee, says Jimmy (proof positive that the Brookside writers read all the forums, official and un). Jackie preferred him to go to another pancake party in their street.
But, Jimmy maintains, he’s not worried, because you know what? Even when Wills isn’t physically with Jimmy, he’s right there at the back of Jim’s mind. Hey, he continues, wasn’t it great to see yoong Antony Murray enjoy himself the previous night? What with all his current troubles at school and all?
The poor kid, Jimmy continues. Did Bev realise that Jimmy had never seen Ant with any other kids. He had no mates. Ah, but he’ll grow out of it. And Josh, concludes the Sage sagely, all Josh needs to do is readjust. Just like Bev, he indicates the surroundings, all this is for Bev and Josh.
He takes his leave of Bev, promising to return to help with the opening at 7PM. He tells Bev once more not to worry. ‘This place will be buzzing soon.’ (Why do we feel that it won’t be?)
Jerome is preparing to leave for work at the bingo club, but he still niggles Nikki about accepting Emily’s offer of £1000. Jerome asserts that he wants her to take this money. It will help her out with her fees.
No, Nikki says, adamantly. It’s stolen money.
Nikki should look at herself, Jerome nags. She could really do with some new clothes. (Mind you, no matter how hard they try, Brookside would never have Nikki look dowdy. Not the way EE has plained up Stick Insect Slater or Kat Slater on occasion).
Nikki is prepared to wait, she maintains, stubbornly, until the insurance money comes through. Didn’t Jerome understand? It doesn’t matter if it’s £1000 or £1, if she accepted that money, it was an endorsement of the crime. She supposes Jerome would accept it with no qualms.
Well, yes, Jerome confesses.
Then he has no scruples, retorts Nikki. And he’s just like Tim. No, he’s WORSE than Tim.
Emily humbly enters the room at that moment, sensing that the couple have been discussing her. (Well, actually, they were discussing Tim, but Emily seems to live in the belief that she’s always got to be the centre of every conversation).
Jerome thinks she should take Emily’s offer, Nikki informs her sister, but Nikki thinks it’s immoral.
Boot, Emily argues, breathlessly (it’s hard to breath with so much silicone on the chest), Nikki needs the mooney.
There’s no need to go into the pros and cons of it, Nikki says, with finality. She knows how Emily came by the money. She didn’t intend to grass Tim up, but neither did she intend to take the money. Not when someone somewhere is out of pocket because of Tim’s action.
Boot, argues Emily, Nikki should at least take £500 of the mooney.
Not even that, says Nikki, righteously. Not when someone’s suffered because of Tim’s misdeed.
Boot, argues Emily again, Tim robbed the booze off villains.
‘You just don’t get it, do you?’ Nikki remarks, amazed at the incredible thickness and amorality of her sister. Then she gives Emily a parable that Emily doesn’t want to hear.
Suppose their Nan had her purse robbed, and the purse had £500 in it. Now, suppose the robber gave Tim £50 of that money, and suppose Tim gave Emily £30 of it. Emily would, indirectly, be robbing from her Nan, who would be out of pocket!
Marty and Dire have returned to Sitcom House in the evening to find Plank sitting with Ant, who bears an angry red mark on the side of his face.
Dire asks what happened to Ant, who sits determinedly watching television.
Plank remarks that the lad was hit in the face by a football, during a games lesson.
The injury is forgotten as a hopeful Marty thinks that this is indicative of Ant having turned a social corner and that the lad’s being accepted by his peers. Great, Marty remarks, does this mean Ant scored?
Ant replies sullenly that he was in goal when the injury occurred.
Goalkeeper? Marty is impressed. Why, that was the position Marty played when he was a lad. (Pull the other one, Mart, it’s got bells on it. You must have been as wide as you were short!)
The teacher said Ant had to play, Plank informs them.
Well, soothes Dire, at least he was picked for the team.
No, answers Antony, miserably. The games teacher made him go in goal.
But at least he stopped the goal, Marty encourages.
It wasn’t even a goal try, Ant admits, shamefully. As soon as he was put in goal, one of the other lads used him for target practice and hit the ball at him as hard as possible. And he excuses himself to go and finish his homework.
Again, Dire and Marty are left exchanging their increasingly common worried looks.
Jacqui has called around to Rachel for their planned evening, when Mike appears unexpectedly. He succinctly informs Rachel that she has exactly one hour to make herself ready for her Valentine’s Day present - a romantic dinner out.
Jacqui is gobsmacked.
Oooh, witter Rachel, boot what abowt Beth?
No problem, Mike says, deliberately, Jessie would mind Beth.
Oooh, says Rachel in wonder, boot Jes-seh’s gone owt.
Mike begins to moan about what bad luck that was and how he’d planned this exclusively for Rachel, all the while eyeing his sister.
It’s almost time and Bev lights the final candles in the re-done bar. Taking a deep breath, she unlocks and opens the door and looks apprehensively about.
Mike continues to bemoan his and Rachel’s bad luck in not having a babysitter, now that their resident Granny, Jessie, had decided to go out. Oh, dear, who could they ask?
Finally, Jacqui pipes up and offers to mind Beth for them.
Thanks, Mike smirks, smugly, he thought Jacqui would never offer.
Over at the bingo club, Jessie sits on her own, close to the bar, not participating in any rounds. Jerome, about to begin his duties, asks her if she intends to play. Helen hovers in the background, eyeing Jessie.
Ignoring Jerome’s question, a stone-faced Jessie asks Jerome if Nikki’s told him about Ray’s relationship to Helen.
Jerome admits that Nikki has told him that Helen was Ray’s daughter.
And what does Jerome think of that? Jessie wants to know, sternly.
Helen was sound as far as Jerome could tell, he says. If Jessie thought Helen was after something, he didn’t think she had an ulterior motive.
Jessie raises her eyebrows sarcastically. Well, in that case, what did Jerome think about Ray cheating on his wife, as Nikki will no doubt have told him the circumstances surrounding Helen’s birth?
Well, Jerome answers uneasily, sensing the direction in which this interrogation is going, Ray was a much younger man at the time.
Oh, remarks Jess, and was that Jerome’s excuse for cheating on Nikki?
Jerome explains that at the time of his dalliance with Nisha, he was under an enormous amount of pressure. For one thing, he had been dealing exclusively with Nikki’s rape and its aftermath. He felt it was down to him to fight her corner and he had to hold all the pressure of the circumstance in. It got to the point where he was sick of hearing the word ‘rape’. Then Nisha came along and she was like a breath of fresh air. She made him feel alive again.
Jessie gives him a horrible look, and Jerome struggles to redeem himself. But that was all a fling and over with, he says, Jerome was devoted to Nikki now and loved her. (Yeah, sure. This portents doom).
Was it so hard defending Nikki? Jess asks.
Being with Nisha was great, Jerome admits, but in the end he realised he was acting like a selfish git.
At that moment, Helen approaches Jessie as Jerome departs.
Mike and Rachel sit alone in the whole of Bev’s Bar, the only customers. Jimmy approaches with their ordered food, confessing that it’s piping hot and straight from the microwave.
Mike makes the brilliant observation to Jimmy that it seems that he and Rachel are the only customers this evening. At that moment in the background, a bloke enters, approaches Bev at the bar, asks a question and disappears.
Well, Jimmy admits, uneasily, they’ve had about ten people come in enquiring the whereabouts of The Shelf.
Jimmy wishes them bon appetit and leaves. Rachel gazes after him in wonder. Wh-eye, she remarks, it’s as if ‘e’s forgot what ‘e’d doon to Rachel in the past - all that abowt the chalk man on the patio.
That’s Jimmy Corkhill, says Mike. He glances around the empty bar, as another potential punter enters, approaches Bev, asks a question and disappears. It’s a sad opening do, Mike says.
Oooh, says Rachel. Boot don’t they feel ex-cloo-sive?
Look, remarks Mike, as a fella enters the bar, a coostumer. As quickly as he enters, however, the man departs.
Oooh, Rachel says, she’s wor-red. She has to know from M-eye-ke where moo-neh came from fer evenin’.
For once, Mike confesses, he just said ‘sod it’ to the money in order to treat Rachel. (And that, Michael, is how one acquires debts).
Jacqui sits alone at Chateau Farnham, a calculator by her side and an account book on her lap. The phone rings and she answers it. It’s a Mrs Simes, one of the few remaining clients of Great Grannies. Jacqui greets her, telling the woman she was just going over the Great Grannies accounts at that very moment.
Suddenly, Jacqui stops and listens to the woman’s voice on the other end of the receiver. A worried look puckers her brow. Jacqui apologises profusely. It seems that Mrs Simes’s cleaner failed to turn up for work today.
Jacqui’s very, very sorry. Now, if Mrs Simes would just confirm to her who her cleaner was -
The unheard woman interrupts to ask if Jacqui could be bothered to know the names of her staff.
Of course, she knows her staff, Jacqui witters, it’s just that Great Grannies swap staff duties around every few months. She ascertains, however, that the recalcitrant cleaner is Jessie and Jacqui promises to have words with her the very next morning. She promises that Mrs Simes will have a reliable cleaner the next week. As she replaces the handset, Jacqui looks incredibly tired and fed up.
At the bingo club, Jessie sits like a stone statue, as Helen tentatively approaches her. She bids Jessie a good evening and asks if she plans on playing a round of bingo.
No, actually, Jessie replies, coldly, but she was planning on having a word with Helen. Coming straight to the point, she asks Helen what exactly is going on with her and Ray? Didn’t she for one moment realise the impact her reappearance would have on Ray’s life?
Helen stammers that she didn’t go actively looking for Ray. He simply turned up out of the blue at the club.
Jessie brushes that explanation aside. Didn’t the woman realise how many lives had been turned upside down by her barging into Ray’s life? The man had a family, for goodness sake! Just look what had happened to them since Helen made her presence known - not the least being the fire!
Helen looks at Jessie in disbelief. Surely, Jess couldn’t be blaming Helen for the fire at the bungalow.
Helen’s put Ray in a compromising position, Jess lectures her. Ray’s got no choice now, as regards Helen, but Helen had plenty of choices from the very beginning. After all, she didn’t have to make her presence known to Ray. In fact, she’d have Helen know, that nothing but bad had happened to the Hiltons since Helen met Ray. Oh, and she needn’t think that Ray would be able to help her out in any way now. Ray didn’t have a penny to his name!
Helen eyes Jessie, critically. Does Jessie seriously think that it’s money Helen’s after?
‘You tell me,’ announces Jessie, with finality.
The camera pans largely on the open box containing Max’s cuff links, sitting prominently in the foreground at Chateau Farnham. In the background, a fed-up Jacqui wearily turns the light off in the lounge and goes to bed.
Jerome’s finished his shift and approaches the bar area in search of Jessie, who’s nowhere to be found. Helen is clearing up, when Jerome approaches her and asks if she’s seen Jess.
Helen merely looks at him, answering that she assumes Jessie had gone.
Where? Jerome asks. Home?
Well, Helen remarks, Jess obviously didn’t come to play bingo. It seems that she came to have a go at Helen.
Jerome looks at her, curiously.
Noting the look, Helen minces no words in explaining. In Jessie’s mind, Helen is a gold diggerm after money from Ray.
Jerome tries to defend Jessie. Helen should realise that Jess has been through a lot lately. Why even now, she’s off the wall one minute and OK the next. Helen shouldn’t take what Jessie said seriously.
Hmph! Snorts Helen. People don’t take meat to a butcher’s!
But surely Ray doesn’t think that about Helen, says Jerome.
Maybe not, says Helen, but anyway, she has a message for Jerome to give Ray. She’s finishing with Ray, she says. Jerome should tell Ray that Helen thought it was nice to meet him, but she thinks it best that they keep their lives separate. And Jerome should tell Ray not to get in touch with her ... Because she won’t be getting in touch with him.
Nice one, Jessie!
Summary © 2002 Marion Watts
Brookside and all related materials are © Mersey Television 1982-2002