Let’s begin back to front again with this summary, by listing the writer of the hour-long ‘special’ ... Peter Cox. Now that’s a phallic name, if ever I heard one. Only Brookside, in its near-pornagraphic present form, could boast a writer with a name like Peter Cox. It sounds like the pseudonym of a porn film actor/director/entrepreneur.
The minute the first scene unfolded last night, I knew, I KNEW a man was behind this. It reeked of laddism and masculine assumption, right down to the male vainglorious fantasies of sex-starved women drooling over men in the absence of male company and the classic middle-aged man’s fantasy of being chatted up by an attractive, younger woman, never mind the fact that she had a feral grimace and resembled a rodent, but there you go.
But what was the reason for this hour-long treat? Why was it ‘special’? Because it pandered to the lowest common denominator of adolescent who only garnered an interest in Brookside as a result of the quasi-paedophilic ex-producer ca. 2000, when it became a virtual totty parade of hormonally challenged children, in featuring the heist that wasn’t? Because it signaled the beginning of Jimmy’s breakdown, a most embarrassing feature, big-time? Because it introduced a new character, a predatory female who, one day, we’ll find is the alien mother of Josh Mach I and Louise and haild from the planet Rodentia?
Who knows? But special, it wasn’t.
And The Shadows deserve better treatment than using their classic track Apache as background music to the ‘showdown’ between Jimmy and the villains. Better to have used the Beatles’ track ‘Nowhere Man’. At least it would have featured Scousers who made good, got out and never returned.
By the way, Annabelle reckons that TPTB are softening us up for the new cinemagraphic approach that Uncle Phil wants to employ as of this November. I reckon some recent John Moore’s media studies grads are having a field day, with the director of the day fancying himself a Truffaut, a Tarantino, a Scorsese or a de Palma ... And those aren’t just exotic ice cream dishes!
(Oh, God, I just hope none of the directors ever watches the 1930’s Frank Capra film, Platinum Blonde - otherwise we’ll get a five minute shot of Emily’s arse sashaying down an endless hall!!!!)
And pezzonovante? That’s a good Sicilian word that describes Tim and Plank. Two little weenies who think they are big dicks.
The programme begins with a camera angle shot from the outside of Hotel Corkhill’s front window, looking inside. We see Dumb and Dumber, AKA Tim and Plank plonking about in Jimmy’s front room. They are plotting the anticipated heist of Dougie’s warehouse premises, an Aladdin’s Cave of potential wealth.
Tim struts about the lounge, planning aloud, whilst his accomplice, who looks openly ill at ease and appears to be having second thoughts about the venture, sits slumped in a nearby chair. Tim’s confident that the warehouse job, the object of which is to snatch leather goods and sell them on, will be easy pickins’ (as we say in the South - and that’s not London, by the way). And because it will be such a doddle, the planning is minimal and simple.
According to Tim, they park Plank’s rattle trap van as close to the warehouse as possible, making sure - of course - that no one sees them, then they break in quickly, grab what they came for, and get out. A quick in and out (a reflection, no doubt, of Tim’s sex life) and - Bob’s your uncle - Dougie and Co won’t know what hit them, brags Tim.
Plank is listening to Tim’s convincing argument, when in the middle of his discourse, Jimmy barges into the room, muttering about finding something. Without acknowledging either of the lads, he stomps directly into the kitchen area and pulls a kitchen drawer completely out, before tipping its entire contents over the counter dividing the kitchen from the living area, and onto the lounge floor with an enormous clatter.
Tim and Plank exchange wide-eyed looks of unease.
Wonders DO never cease! As the working day draws to a close at the Walk-In Clinic, Katie is actually busy. She’s hunched over the computer, apparently typing furiously (probably catching up on all the paperwork left over from the 52 days annual leave that she takes, the 137 sick days, the 94 days grieving for Clint and the 277 days that she’s regularly late in arriving). She mutters absently to Nisha that she’s so busy, she reckons that she’ll have to stay late to finish up her work.
At that moment, Dr Parr emerges from one of the examining rooms, escorting a patient. The doctor irascibly tells the patient that there is more than one doctor in the practice, if the patient would care to see someone else.
As the man leaves, Nisha and Katie glance curiously at each other, in reaction to Gary Parr’s demeanor, before Nisha asks Dr Parr about the patient’s medical complaint.
Oh, him? Dr Parr says, dismissively. Nothing more than hair of the dog, and trying to pass it off as fake flu, when in reality his illness came as a result of downing 12 pints the night before. He’s surprised neither Katie in reception nor Nisha, assessing, didn’t smell the stale booze on his breath. Came in for a sick note to take into work, elaborates Dr Parr. Said he had a headache. Well, Dr Parr, Man of Principle, doesn’t give sick notes for hangovers, he’d have the women know. (Katie hunches down in her seat).
Back at Hotel Corkhill, where the lunatics appear to have taken over the asylum, Tim and Plank exchange worried looks as they watch Jimmy tear the kitchen apart in search of a lost item. Jimmy keeps muttering that the article for which he’s searching has to be around there someplace. Finally Tim musters enough courage to ask him what he’s looking for.
THE KEY TO KYLIE’S MONEY BOX!!!!! Shouts Jimmy. She left if behind when she went to Newcastle, and he promised he’d find it and take it back to her. Only he couldn’t find it, and he KNEW it was in the house somewhere!
Tim glances briefly at Plank, swallows hard and timidly suggests to Jimmy that a few items of Kylie’s were left in the back bedroom.
‘WELL, WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!’ Jimmy shouts, in exaggerated exasperation. RKylie couldn’t get to her pocket money without that key! And he dashes upstairs in search of the key.
The two lads heave a sigh of relief when Jimmy leaves the room. Tim admits to Plank that he’s worried about Jimmy’s mental state of late. He’s beginning to get more and more eccentric in his behaviour.
Plank shakes his head in wonder at the performance he’s just seen. He wonders how Tim copes with Jimmy in his present form. Tim replies that, whenever Jimmy appears to ‘go off on one’, Tim finds it easiest just to nod and smile and say nothing.
Plank confesses to Tim that he’s not sure they should undertake this job.
Interlude: We see Max Farnham, in The Shelf, standing before the window opening onto the Health Club below, studying a leaflet of some sort. In the background of the Health Club, we see a lone female swimmer in the pool. Symbolic or not? Max juxtaposed against his wife’s business and a female reminiscent of Jacqui’s athletic prowess? Very Truffaut.
Over at Number 8, Mike Dixon is sitting on the sofa, rummaging through an Argos-type catalogue of sorts. Ray sits in the background at the dining table, distractedly running his hands through his scant hair. Mike is wittering on about Rachel’s birthday coming up and wondering aloud what he should buy her as a present. If he had loads of cash, he tells Ray, who’s clearly not listening to or interested in a single word Mike’s saying, he’d buy her something REALLY nice - like a nice necklace and earrings.
Ray interrupts peremptorily to tell Mike that he isn’t interested in discussing birthday gifts at the moment. He reminds Mike, succinctly, that he’s just lost his mother.
Back at Hotel Corkhill, Tim has reconvinced Plank of the feasibility of the heist. In just half an hour, Tim says, they’ll be off. Plank jokes wryly that he’d better ensure that the van was filled with petrol - in case they ended up driving around for hours, as happened the previous day.
As the boys discuss this, Jimmy bounds down the steps and into the lounge, brandishing a small item attached to a thick piece of cord.
FOUND IT!!!! He announces.
The lads look at him in a puzzled way.
THE KEY!!! Jimmy reminds them. Can’t have RKylie without her key! And Plank’s right to fill the van with petrol, he continues. It’s a long drive up North - hours, in fact.
Plank’s thick brows knit together in confusion. But ... He and Tim were only going locally, he says.
Sure, OK, agrees Jimmy, his eyes widening maniacally.
Tim repeats the plan of driving by the warehouse in order to check on Dougie’s movements. They’d give it the once over, and once the coast was clear, they’d go in. Tim was confident. He and Plank made a good team, and this was going to be a top job.
As the boys are discussing this, we notice that Jimmy’s got a large suitcase open in the lounge and - having found the key - he begins to pack the case. It’s a pity Plank ISN’T going North, he remarks to the lads over his shoulder.
North? Chime Plank and Tim. North what?
North, repeats Jimmy. NORTH! NORTH! THE DIRECTION! Jimmy’s found Kylie’s key, he continues, and he has to go North to Newcastle in order to return it.
Jimmy checks the time. He’s got a list, he informs the lads. It’s a good list too - made for him by Nikki.
Tim shows immediate concern and asks Jimmy if he’s OK. Jimmy, in an odd, stiff voice, assures Tim that he’s fine.
Back at the Clinic, Nisha asks Katie how Sammy is progressing in her pursuit of Sol Bennett, and Katie replies that Sammy doesn’t seem to be making much headway in that romantic quest, but she talks a lot about Sol’s nice bum. (I found this conversation offensive, especially since BOTH women KNOW that Sol is apparently a happily married man. So, do they CONDONE single, predatory women pursuing liaisons with married men? Does Katie reckon this sort of behaviour is the norm, unless it concerns scamming a friend - cf: Jacqui? If this is Brookside’s idea of homage to Sex and the City, then they are even missing the gist of that wonderful show. I’ve read a lot of Candace Bushell’s columns in The New York Times. The woman, writing about her exploits as a single woman from the safety of a marriage, is poking fun at the desperation of single women of certain ages. It’s called wit).
However, Katie continues, it’s not Sammy that Katie’s worried about at the moment. She’s more concerned about Louise. Louise has been too quiet of late. She comes home from school, does her homework and goes to bed.
Well, offers Nisha, who’s no real expert on anything but herself, perhaps it will take Louise awhile to adjust. Maybe it would help if Auntie Katie had a word with her.
Katie generously tells Nisha that she needn’t stay late on her account; she would finish her work.
Dr Parr re-emerges again and asks if anyone would like to join him for dinner. Nisha demurs and he changes the request for joining him in a takeway, here in the Clinic, perhaps. How about pizza? He suggests, to the gobsmacked women. To be honest, he confesses, he’d welcome the company, as his wife had a meeting of sorts to attend this evening.
Nisha and Katie agree, and Nisha suggests that they have the meal upstairs with a bottle of wine. Dr Parr readily agrees.
Nisha begins her flirtatious tease. (A Southern Belle couldn’t have done it better). Why, she thought Dr Parr disapproved of hangovers! She reminds him, coyly.
He’s nothing against drinking, the good doctor says, he just thinks that there’s no excuse for getting trashed. That man who had come in earlier was well OTT. As he and Nisha exchange banter about drinking, Katie, in the foreground, listens with a shameful face.
Finishing the banter, he simply says that he likes drink, but doesn’t like to get soused. He calls it moderation, he tells the girls. His wife calls it boring. And he disappears, ostensibly, to arrange the takeaway.
When he’s gone, Nisha confides to Katie that Dr Parr’s father had been an alcoholic, which tempered his views toward drink in general.
Katie stupidly replies that she thought someone had told her that Dr Parr’s father had been a doctor also.
There’s nothing to stop a doctor from being an alcoholic, says Nisha, archly. (Or a nurse, or a teacher, or a taxi driver, or a housewife ...)
Ray has now moved into the kitchen of Number 8 and is about to make some tea. Mike approaches him, apologising for bantering on before about Rachel’s birthday, when Ray had Kitty’s death on his mind. He should have kept his mouth shut, Mike says.
Ray is understanding. It was partly his fault too, the older man admits. All the arrangements for the funeral and then dealing with the insurance claim - it was so exhausting for a man his age. And then, of course, there was the niggling bother about not being able to see or talk to Kitty before she died.
Mike reminisces about feeling that way when Tony Dixon died.
That must have been an even greater shock, sympathises Ray, losing a younger brother like that.
Mike tells Ray that he always felt responsible for Tony. DD and Ron always ingrained that into Mike - look after your brother; he’s littler than you. In the end, Mike says, sadly, he felt that he wasn’t there for Tony.
Ray remarks wretchedly that he should have visited Kitty. He wasn’t there in the end for her either, and he felt that Kitty must have felt let down by Ray.
Mike tries to comfort Ray by telling him that he couldn’t have known that Kitty would die.
The front door opens, and Jessie enters brightly, carrying two bags. She greets the two men and says that she’s brought some fish and chips, because she thought that they all needed cheering up. As she prepares the meal in the background, Ray, standing in the foreground of the scene, begins to cry.
Alone with Jimmy whilst Plank’s gone off to fill the van with petrol, Tim asks the older man if it’s OK if Tim goes out.
Jimmy, packing, looks at Tim blankly and replies that it makes no difference. Jimmy was off out, himself, he says. OFF UP THE ANGEL! He booms.
The Angel? Repeats Tim, thinking that The Angel is some obscure pub.
‘THE ANGEL!’ Says Jimmy, loudly, but dreamily, a strange smile crossing his face. ‘THE ANGEL OF THE NORTH! Waiting up there for me to give me a BIG welcome, with wide open arms ...’
Poor Ray is seated on the Dixon sofa, with a plethora of papers spread on the coffee table in front of him. He’s befuddled. He tells Jessie he’s having a difficult time deciphering Kitty’s legal papers.
Jessie is understandingly sympathetic. Why doesn’t Ray leave all that to the solicitors? He’s got enough on his plate with the insurance claim and the funeral. A nice walk would do Ray the world of good, she suggests.
Ray obviously takes her advice.
It’s now evening and a heavy rain is falling, as Dr Parr, in pursuit of pizza, dashes from the clinic. Weirdly, as he leaves the premises, he glances around and pulls the collar of his coat over the lower half of his face. Looking around anyplace but where he’s going, fearful of someone seeing him, he crosses the parade to the verge and clambers into Ray, standing in the rain.
Ray, for an instant, thinks he’s being mugged and sets up a caterwaul, before Dr Parr calms him down and identifies himself.
Ray is annoyed and berates the doctor for not looking where he was going, but Dr Parr explains that he’s on call this evening. If his patients happen to see him out and about, they invariably stop and question him.
ROBERT HAMPTON: Is this the norm in Liverpool? Because I’ve never known it in the soft South? OK, Antony Trueman sees more patients on the streets of Walford than he ever sees in his surgery (and he never makes his house calls because his brother’s always bugging him about something), but I’ve never known him to hide behind a scarf or a balaclava). In fact, my own GP regularly takes a walk down the high street of our small town at lunchtime, and no one I’ve ever seen stops him for a consultation!
While Dr Parr is apologising, Ray’s face is turned upward toward the rainy night sky. He tells the doctor that he’s out this evening looking for his mum. Pointing to the sky, he says she’s somewhere up there. Dr Parr pauses in concern.
Max has entered a sort of meeting room someplace, to be greeted by his Islington-looking mate from the dinner party, who USED to be named Leo, but is now called George. You remember the bloke, the one who looked like Alan Rickman with a haircut and a hangover.
Well, it seems that GEORGE is the Chairman of the Board of Governors at Brookside Comprehensive (and I thought he was on the Board of a junior school), and Max has just become a governor. (That storyline was kept quiet!) This is his first meeting, and Max has arrived early, laden with paperwork.
Max is asking George about the job, and George explains that there are 5 parent governors and four elected non-parental governors, including two from the local community, one of which was Max. The board also included the Brookie Comp head teacher, Mrs Plummer. George ensures that Max has all the paperwork that states the objectives of the Board of Governors and the topics of discussion for that particular meeting. Max, he says, proprietorily, is the new boy tonight.
As a young woman enters in the background, George attempts to excuse himself from Max, saying that prior to the meeting, he always has a private meeting with Mrs Plummer. Tonight’s conflab is particularly important, as the head’s father had been poorly recently and it was uncertain if she would attend.
As the young woman approaches the two men, George tells Max that ‘Gaby’ would help him with any of the paperwork he didn’t understand.
The woman is - surprise, surprise - another blonde, but darker. The best description of her actually comes from Annabelle on the Brooksider website. She’s a feral-looking rat-faced woman who could be mistaken for the true mother of Louise and Josh Mach I and the long-lost sister of Lance. Her mouth is stretched in a grin so tight, it would make the rigor mortis grimace of Dire Murray look positively relaxed. But there’s a reason for Gaby’s grin - it shows off her dimples. Her dimples might be attractive, but her teeth are small, sharp and pointed. Somebody obviously reckons she’s a beauty, and she certainly fancies herself, but she looks like a hungry rat.
When George leaves, she confides in a cooing, purring voice that the inside joke was that George always went to confer with the head before these meetings because he and Mrs Plummer plot the outcomes of the Governors meetings in advance. That way, she says, knowingly, they can play one of the board against another.
Max, in the dredges of middle age, is pleasantly surprised by the appearance of Gaby the Grin (with special thanks to Annabelle for this epithet), and she eyes him predatorily, as her next victim.
Back at Hotel Corkhill, Plank has called for Tim. The two lads step briefly into the lounge to say good-bye to Jimmy, who’s still packing.
As they say good-bye, Jimmy looks up blankly. ‘I’m all unplugged,’ he tells them, picking up the portable radio and shaking it against his ear. The two lads leave the house for the van.
‘NEARLY FINISHED!’ Jimmy shouts after them. There’s no response from Tim and Plank because they are already outside, with the van’s motor running.
‘DON’T GO WITHOUT ME!’ Calls Jimmy. ‘I’M NEARLY FINISHED!’
Suddenly the camera focuses on a close-up of Jimmy’s eyes, which have become narrow, shifty and beady, with suspicion.
The camera pans the Corkhill house, as Jimmy’s thoughts echo in a voice-over (with a little help from Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound). ‘This old house. Been there, done that,’ says Jimmy’s echo voice. The camera pans to a photo of Jimmy, Jacqui, Lindsey, and Wills in happier times.
Concerned by Ray’s incoherent remark and undeterred by the driving rain that pelts them both, Dr Parr sits beside the older man on the bench. Ray explains again that he’s looking up to heaven. He thought there’d be stars out tonight and that he’d find his mother amongst them.
Dr Parr asks gently if he could be of any help.
Ray is under no illusions. He doesn’t believe in miracles.
Miracles are a medical myth, says Dr Parr.
Ray explains his dilemma to the doctor. His mother died the day before, he says. She was in a home. He should have visited her more often, he says, but he was too busy. Now she was dead.
Dr Parr repeats what Mike had told Ray, that there was no way he could have known this would happen.
Ray, rain mingling with the tears on his face, looks up at the sky and repeats that he’s looking for a star that might be Kitty; but he assures Dr Parr that he’s OK.
Dr Parr explains that he’s off out to get a pizza takeaway, but reiterates that if there’s any way he can help, he’s only a phone call away.
Ray asks him not to tell anyone that Ray was doing this tonight.
Dr Parr understands and suggests that Ray get an early night.
(What a wonderfully poignant scene! Add Kenneth Cope to my list of favourites along with Neil Caple. And Cope’s ability only enhanced that of the younger actor, Ben Hull). More of these three men, please - they are the saviours of Brookside!)
Max is awaiting the start of the Board of Governors meeting, while Gaby the Grin obliges George’s request by updating Maxim on procedure, grinning all the time. Max is clearly enthralled by Gaby the Grin, because he’s gazing dreamily at her, his eyes never leaving her face (unless he’s mesmerized by her rigid mouth which seems to have a life of its own or her feral teeth). He’s hanging on her every word, and Gaby the Grin is lapping it up. It’s patently obvious that she deliberately seeks and enjoys masculine attention.
Beginning the inevitable chat-up that she’s after, Max asks the obvious question - if she’s involved in education professionally.
No, replies the smarmy Gaby. She works for the Merseyside and Regional Property Board.
A quango, surmises Max, his eyes not leaving her face.
Gaby the Grin lets it be known that she’s heard via George (who used to be Leo) that Max, himself, is a surveyor by profession. How did he come about owning a restaurant?
Max demurs, modestly. It was more of a change of life direction, he says.
Another few seconds is spent with Max daydreamingly eyeing Gaby, until the Ratwoman wisely suggests that they take a look at the paperwork in anticipation of the meeting’s agenda.
Max admits that he’s daunted by the amount of work being a school governor entails, but Gaby wastes no time in assuring him that she’ll be there to ‘hold his hand’.
Tim and Plank sit in the rattle trap van, making a last minute check-list of items essential to effect the break-in. Did Plank remember to bring gloves? Tim asks.
Plank shows Tim his gloves. Unfortunately, he’s only recently used them to creosote the Murray back fence. Tim wrinkles his delicate nose. Why, the bizzies would be able to smell those gloves a mile, he warns.
Suddenly the back door of the van springs open - didn’t silly Plank remember to lock it? - and the maniacal face of Jimmy, which seems somehow to have become enlarged, appears.
‘A-HA!’ Exclaims Jim. ‘CAUGHT YER!’ Carrying a large bag, Jimmy climbs into the rear of the van and slams the door.
Tim turns in his seat and explains patiently, but with a note of exasperation in his voice, that Jimmy can’t get in the van.
‘Yes, I can,’ maintains Jimmy, stolidly. ‘I joost did!’ And he tells the lads that he only wants a lift ... to Newcastle. Didn’t they understand? Kylie’s waiting for her key!
Well, Tim concedes, gesturing to the increasingly edgy Plank, they couldn’t take him to Newcastle, but they’d drop him at the train station.
‘HIGH ROAD, LOW ROAD, RAILROAD ... ALL ROADS LEAD TO ROME!’ Jimmy shouts, with a triumphant laugh.
Plank gives Tim a decidedly wary look, unhinged by the Jimmy situation.
‘Just drive,’ Tim mumbles, nervously. ‘We’ll drop him at a bus stop on the way.’
And the lads, with Jimmy in tow, set off on the rob.
Meanwhile, at NNT, Katie, Nisha and Dr Parr are seated at the table in the flat, about to partake of their takeaway. Dr Parr is playing mein host and filling wine glasses. He asks Nisha if she fancies a drop of wine and fills her generous glass to the brim. Nisha flirts with him again, reminding him that he held no brief for people with hangovers.
Well, poor, pitiful Katie asserts, SHE’S had a tooough day. (I’ll bet she has. She worked 8 hours). And she was ready to drink loadsa wine.
When the glasses are filled, Dr Parr offers a toast to the underfunded and overworked (guffaw! How about underfunded through overpaid workers) NHS; then he proceeds to serve the pizza - and all three have ordered Hawaiian pizzas.
The Board of Governors meeting is just beginning, when George (who used to be Leo) announces that Mrs Plummer is unable to attend this evening as her father is ill. However, he’d been briefed by the head to discuss a particular individual bullying case currently being investigated at Brookside Comprehensive.
George (who used to be Leo) consults his papers and announces that the case concerns a Year 8 pupil, Antony Murray.
Max raises his hand, like a dutiful schoolboy. He feels compelled to advise the Board that he, Max, is a resident of Brookside Close; and - as such - knows young Antony as a neighbour. Max wants to know if that acquaintance might cause a conflict of interest in the Board’s discussions pertainent to the bullying incident.
George (who used to be Leo) pretends to give this revelation serious consideration. In that smugly self-important way that minor mandarins accord any incidental decision, he condescendingly thanks Max for disclosing this, but allows that - for the moment - he sees no conflict of interest here. Now, he continues, imbued with the conviction of his own self-worth, which no one else shares, he apprises the Board of the history of the Murray situation.
Young Antony Murray reported several incidences of bullying, with Imelda Clough and Paige Inconsequential-Surname named as the perpetrators. As a result of Antony’s claims, Mrs Plummer had implemented Brookside Comprehensive’s anti-bullying policy.
This entitled Antony to staggered arrivals and departures five minutes after and before the rest of his classmates. Imelda and Paige, the bullies, themselves, have been isolated at mealtimes and must eat with teachers. The bullies, as such, continues George (who used to be Leo), are aware of the situation and know that they will be disciplined if they are found again to be in breach of the policy.
Max raises the question of why the girls haven’t yet been excluded.
Gaby the Grin, who’s a know-it-all to boot, interrupts to explain to Max that exclusion is reserved only for cases involving extreme violence.
That’s right, nods George (who used to be Leo), the school’s anti-bullying policy condones equal but fair treatment for all concerned.
Gaby the Grin’s rigid smile surreptitiously becomes a snide smirk,
as she makes a sarcastic comment about bullies having rights. Then she begins
her crusade. Surely the treatment that poor Antony Murray is enduring at the
hands of these bullies is an infringement of his basic
rights. (Please!
Don’t get me started on the three most over-used, over-abused and misunderstood
words in the English language: BASIC
RIGHTS.
Max, emboldened, echoes her sentiments. Surely Antony is entitled to an education free of fear for his own safety? And he gazes at Gaby the Grin with abject and fawning admiration.
Back at the impromptu dinner party, Dr Parr is giving some words of encouragement to Nisha, who’s doubting her ability as a Nurse Prescriber on her course. Nisha should have faith in her ability, Dr Parr says. Once she’s passed her exams, he’s certain she’ll be good at the task in hand.
Poor, pitiful Katie, feeling left out of the conversation and wanting attention, nurtures her drink and mumbles that she wishes she could get decent qualifications.
Nisha reprimands her lightly, saying that Katie should be putting her mind to applying for Mrs Dawson’s old job of Head Receptionist. (Whoopee! Is she for real? First of all, isn’t Katie - thanks to Nathan, to whom she was supremely ungrateful - a qualified legal secretary? If so, what the hell is she doing wasting away in a job she has, on more than one occasion, moaned about hating? Secondly, even before Clint died, Katie was taking time off at the drop of a hat. NO ONE, not even in the public sector has THAT many days leave. Thirdly, Katie has had an excessive amount of time off due to Clint’s death. Not even a woman who’s lost a husband would have taken that much time off. She’s shown up for work, blatantly hung over, and has - on more than one occasion - been rude to patients, once denying Ron Dixon treatment, which is in direct contravention to the NHS code. For that infringement, she’s under a written warning. And NISHA thinks that Katie should be promoted! If this is the sort of people the NHS promotes, no wonder it’s knee deep in shit and sinking at the moment!) Anyone who reads this summary, please discuss this point.
Dr Parr stops Nisha in full verbal diarrhoea flow. Nisha wants to remember, he says, that Mrs Dawson is only on sick leave. Any replacement would be temporary cover.
Nisha won’t be deterred, which shows everyone the dire standards to which the NHS aspires. She openly asks Dr Parr if Katie stands a fighting chance at getting the job. Parr, who clearly hasn’t been made aware of the situation under which Katie holds onto the job by her Nixon-original ski nose, agrees with Nisha at last.
George (who used to be Leo) is struggling to bring the Board of Governors meeting to an end. He moves for adjournment, but Gaby the Grin grabs a last-minute opportunity. She’s still pushing for information about what’s being done regarding Antony’s bullying.
For once in his Islington-aspirational life, George (who used to be Leo) is firm. He wants the Board to rest assured that he has spoken with Mrs Plummer at length about this situation and he’s happy with the update she’s given him. The matter is being dealt with internally at the moment and the policy seems to be working.
Max, looking like the desperate school jerk out to impress the Homecoming Queen, waves his hand. Recognised, he moves that each subsequent Board meeting include a bullying update.
George (who used to be Leo) reluctantly agrees and ends the meeting. Max give Gaby a huge smile of self-satisfaction, seeking her approval. Gaby the Grin grins back, but then she grins at everyone.
Meanwhile, those would-be criminals, Tim and Plank are en route to Dougie’s warehouse. This is the first time they’ve driven along the road, in the dark and without Dougie to follow, and it’s proving difficult to find the premises. It’s proving doubly difficult with the distracting presence of Jimmy declaiming in the back of the van. #
Jimmy observes that they were on the road into town. That reminds him, he says, suddenly. Must check the timetables. Timetables for trains to Newcastle, he continues.
Did he tell the lads, he asks the two, that he was moving in with Lindsey. Lindsey, his Angel of the North, she was.
Tim shushes him, as they’ve managed to find the warehouse.
As Plank slows the vehicle down in preparation of stopping, he asks Tim what they should do with Jimmy.
Well, Tim reckons, now that they knew where the warehouse was, the simplest thing to do was to drop Jimmy off at the train station and then return. But suddenly, Tim notices that the warehouse area, in particularly Dougie’s bit, seems to be a beehive of activity.
Someone’s parked outside the building, with a van, and the van is being loaded with gear. Tim peers through the distance at the people. That’s not Dougie, he tells Plank. Probably one of his mates.
Suddenly the penny drops for Jimmy. Why, the lads aren’t out for a ride to Newcastle.
‘WE’RE OUT ON THE ROB, AREN’T WE?’ Jimmy shouts,cheerfully,
to the frantic chagrin of Plank and Tim.
Jessie waits for Ray’s return from his walk, talking to Mike while Mike prepares to leave for work.
Ray was cut up, she says, ruefully, because he didn’t get to see Kitty before she died. In fact, admits Jess, she feels that it’s all her fault, because she told him not to go, that they were too busy. She feels that Ray might feel better if he would just let his feelings go about Kitty and not let himself be eaten up with guilt. She feels that way too!
Mike gently pries into the situation with the insurance paying the Dixons rent on behalf of the Hiltons. This is an about-turn from the previous week, when Mike was aghast that Max would even entertain thoughts of the Hiltons paying rent. Mike smells extra moo-neh for him and Rachel the Dim.
Jessie tells him that the insurance company have agreed in principle to pay the couple’s rent. Oh, what relief she’d feel when this claim was sorted out.
But, Jess continues rattling, at least when the claim was sorted, they would be able to get out of some of these cast-off clothes - not that they weren’t grateful, mind.
Mike apologises for badgering her about the rent. It’s just that he and Rachel had to sort out their finances - work out what bills to pay and when.
Jessie muses that she wouldn’t like to be part of a young couple just starting out today.
Well, reasons Mike, confidently (and that’s ominous), he and Rachel weren’t planning on any holidays this year, so with any luck, they’d be back in the black come September.
The villains are preparing to leave, and Tim and Plank sit in the van, staring desolately at the chain fence, and wondering how they would ever manage to get inside. Suddenly Jimmy opens the back door of the van, to the immense panic of Plank and Tim.
Just going for a butchers, Jim says calmly.
The two lads look at each other, because they daren’t look at where Jimmy’s going.
Interlude II: Ray still remains on the bench at The Parade, crying openly as the rain falls.
George (who used to be Leo) is having a chat with Max, after Max’s debut performance as a school governor. Max, preening, asks George how he did.
George is keen to deflate Max’s new-found ego. Max did well enough, he admits, as Gaby the Grin flits around, sans broomstick, in the background. How did Max get on with Gaby? George asks, with a hint of mischief in his eyes.
Gaby? Max stutters, in true wimp fashion. Why, she was marvelous! Did George realise that she reminded Max very much of Patricia? Straight to the point, just like Pat. (Sorry, I have to disagree. This reptile is nothing like Patricia. Patricia was a warm, caring, loving person, who gave much and asked for little. This woman is selfishness incarnate, and would sell her own mother down river to get what she wanted).
There follows an inane and unfunny joke about George being a chair martyr. Gaby approaches just as Max invites George back to The Shelf for a drink. Oh, insinuates Gaby the Grin, is this a ‘boys only’ outing or is anyone invited? (Vampires, my dear, are excluded. Bats are vermin). The three share a laugh and leave, as Max includes the Piranha-Woman in the invitation.
Jimmy’s managed to get over the fence and hides in the bushes as the villains continue to load the van. Plank asks Tim where Jimmy’s gone, and Tim replies, ‘Hopefully, Newcastle.’
Dr Parr takes his leave of Katie and Nisha, crying off to finishe packing for his move onto The Parade the next day. Just think, he teases, after tomorrow he’ll be their neighbour.
That’s weird, coos Nisha, but a nice weird.
He thanks them for the evening and their company, and jokes that once he’s gone, they can talk about him.
The girls laugh, but when he does go, Katie accuses Nisha of being sweet on him. Nisha affects to be highly offended, the hypocritical bitch, saying that she would never openly pursue a married man. (But you’d encourage your mates to do so!)
Jimmy crouches in the bushes just outside the loading door of the warehouse. It’s a door that closes by remote from the outside and as it slowly lowers, Jimmy grabs the opportunity to roll underneath the structure, getting inside the warehouse.
Once inside, wearing his black robbing gloves, Jimmy lies on his back and laughs uproariously.
Inside the van, the lads have spotted Jimmy and see him get inside the warehouse.
That’s just great! Exclaims Plank. He’s rolled under the warehouse door. Jimmy’s locked inside and they are outside, unable to get in. He glares at a worried Tim, accusingly. So much for Tim’s BIG PLAN! He jeers. It’s gone wrong. What do they do now? He demands. Jimmy’s blown it!
Tim tries to think for a moment, but can’t come up with any constructive idea. We just have to do what we came to do, he says, lamely. Up and over the fence.
Withoout further words, the lads climb the fence into the yard. They run to the lock-up door and pound on it, calling for Jimmy. He’s off his head, cries Tim.
He’s most likely forgotten we’re even here! Wails Plank.
All of a sudden, the lock-up door slowly begind to ascend, to reveal Jimmy, standing against the lights of the warehouse, his arms outstretched in a cheap imitation of the Angel of the North, or Christ of the Andes, or the Crucifixion.
The boys are gobsmacked when they see him.
Once the door’s raised completely, Jimmy gives a belly laugh of triumph. ‘What did I always say yer need most at a time like this?’ He riddles. ‘A MAN ON THE INSIDE!’
Meanwhile, back at Hotel Corkhill, Nikki has returned from a day of scouring the charity shops. She’s brought some jumpers and bits for herself and Jerome. Jerome tries one jumper on and finds it about two sizes too small.
Well, shrugs Nikki, what do you expect when you can get this much for twenty quid. Never mind. They told her at the shop she could bring back anything that didn’t fit. She’d take that jumper back the next day.
This must please Nikki’s Nan, grumbles Jerome, in a sulk. They were reduced to being charity cases. (Where’s your mother, Jerome?)
Nikki agrees that it angers her that she feels ripped off by her own grandmother, but Jerome isn’t to worry. Nikki, like Baldrick, has a cunning plan. She plans on being blunt with her grandmother, let Jessie know that neither she nor Jerome could live on air.
Inside the warehouse, Plank remains nervously in the background, whilst Jimmy and Tim, excitedly, examine the clobber, most of which is either stolen or smuggled. It’s like Aladdin’s cave, exclaims Jimmy.
Max and Gaby the Grin sit opposite George at The Shelf, sharing a bottle of wine. George is explaining that the Board of Governors have to tread very carefully with the bullying issue, as it might severely affect staff morale. The aim of their body was to achieve a balance.
Well, the way she sees it, asserts the Piranha, Mrs Plummer is paid to do a job; they should just let her get on with it.
George nods in basic agreement. Really, he tells Max, Mrs Plummer HAS done a great job of turning the school around since she took over last year. (Surely Max must remember the wet and dire Mr Johnson, who presided over Tim’s expulsion and Tim’s bullying of Matthew?)
That’s why the school has got to be seen to go through the proper procedures with regard to the bullying incidents. It’s called the judicial process, he explains, condescendingly to Max.
Piranha grumbles that the girls don’t deserve that much respect. (Maybe she’d like to sink her teeth into them). It seems to her that all the impetus lies with the victim.
Antony Murray is being regularly monitored and supported both at school and at home, George assures her, smugly. Everyone is happy with the situation.
(Cue music of impending doom).
Inside the huge warehouse, Jimmy has turned on all the lights. In a panic, Plank and Tim order him to turn some of them off, in case someone’s attention is attracted. Jimmy complies, and Tim looks over all the stuff, but is interested in looking for the leather goods. On the way, he happens upon some smuggled perfume and slap, reckoning that Emily could do a good job flogging that stuff around her mates.
Jimmy, however, is more interested in a hoard of Easter Eggs, while Tim continues to marvel at the variety of stuff on display and poor Plank is veritably shitting himself in apprehension, urging them to find what they came to find and get out.
‘Hey! Captain Mainwaring!’ Jimmy chides Plank. ‘Don’t panic!’ And turning to Tim, he asks if Tim came to admire the goods or to rob them. Sure, it’s a gold mine here, Jimmy says, but he has to get to Newcastle - and these Easter Eggs would go down a treat with Lindsey, Kylie and Wills.
Plank hisses to Tim to hurry up with the rob, as the bizzies might be outside at any moment.
Tim finds the leather goods, but as he does, Jimmy suddenly begins talking to anyone and no one at the top of his voice. It seems that Jim’s bragging about his exploits in the old days.
Tim and Plank were lucky in beginning their careers on the rob, Jimmy brags, because with him along, the lads were robbing with the CREME DE LA CREME ... Or rather, the CREME DE LA CRIME, Jimmy jokes and laughs at his own creation.
Yes sirree, Plank and Tim were starting out with the best.
Tim frantically motions to Plank that he’s found the leather goods and Plank moves toward him, while Jimmy continues his soliloquy.
He wanted the lads to know, he says, that he stood up to all sorts in his time. Real hard nuts. Why, he even left Joey Gordon for dead, And did they know that ALL the bizzies hated the Corkhills at one time. No Costa del Crime for Jimmy, he says. No. That was the coward’s way out.
Jimmy brazened it out here, in Liverpool. Why, he actually used to swagger before the cops -
Tim hisses to Jimmy to shut up. He’s not really on the job now. If he wanted to do something to help Plank and Tim, he should be Dixie and keep his mouth shut.
OK, Jimmy reluctantly agrees, as Tim guides him to a window in the warehouse. Jimmy tells Tim that he’d been Dixie on a number of occasions before. As the lads gather the goods together that they intend to take, Jimmy suddenly cries out: ‘DIXIE! DIXIE!’
Tim and Plank panic and dash to the window, but see nothing. Jimmy continues to shout. ‘THE FOOTBALLER! THAT BLOKE THAT PLAYED FOR EVERTON! WHAT WAS HIS NAME? DIXIE ... DIXIE ... DIXIE DEAN!’
Jessie is still talking to Mike, reminiscing about Kitty and her acid tongue. She was like that with everyone, though, Jessie reminisces. And on occasion, Jessie found her difficult. Oh, and she treated poor Ray like dirt.
Well, Mike says, she was Ray’s moom, and everyone loves their moom. Why, you’d forgive your mother anything.
Ray shambles into the house. Jessie is concerned and asks after him. Ray replies that he feels better. At least his head is clear now. Funny, he had a notion that if he could see a star tonight, it might be Kitty, floating around up there, looking down on him.
She’d have a good view, soothes Jessie.
Oh, well, Ray muses. It was a cloudy night. No stars. Another time, perhaps.
Jessie assures Ray that Kitty would keep an eye on him, no matter what the weather.
It’s funny, Ray observes. Right now, people can’t say enough nice things about Kitty. It’s as though they’re afraid to speak ill of her. He looks at Jessie. Kitty certainly treated Jess badly enough at times.
Back at the warehouse, the lads have gathered an immense amount of clobber to rob, and it lies in a huge pile. (I really wonder how all that would have fit in an Escort van, but - there you go - this is Brookside).
They stand at the door of the lock-up with the gear. Plank takes one look at the chain fence and asks Tim how they are expected to get the gear to the van, which is on the other side of the fence.
Tim asks if Plank remembered to bring the wire cutters.
Yes, says Plank, pointedly. They’re in the van. (Which is why he’s a plank).
Tim begins to berate Plank, but Plank reminds Tim that he’s not too bright, himself, bringing a madman along.
Ray is sitting in a daze at the dining table at Number 8. It doesn’t seem like 2 years had passed, he reckons, since he had to organise Reenie’s funeral. He looks sadly at Jessie. He simply couldn’t afford to give his mum a nice funeral, he says. The way things are, he’ll have to keep things to a minimum.
Well, Jessie replies, Kitty could pennypinch with the best of them. Anyway, she reckoned that Kitty wouldn’t go much on an elaborate funeral and fuss.
Jessie reflects on how Kitty would have reacted to some of the bumf the insurance company was meting out to them. Take the claim pay-out, she says to Mike. Why, a pay-out like that would have cut no ice with Kitty, and she’d have wasted no breath in telling the assessor so. And as for the vouchers for clothing! Well! Kitty would have wiped their eyes with those vouchers. She had a brusque tongue, did our Kitty.
Mike excuses himself, saying he’s due for the graveshift tonight. But before he goes, he has a favour to ask Ray and Jessie. He wonders if they’d be able to babysit for Beth overnight on the night of Rachel’s birthday. He planned on taking Rachel away for a night to a nice hotel to celebrate.
The phone rings in the background, and Ray takes the call.
Jessie readily agrees to babysit Beth, commenting favourably on the romantic gesture.
Ray returns from taking the phone call to announce that Nikki and Jerome were on their way around.
As the lads stand helplessly at the door of the lock-up, their gear strewn at their feet, they suddenly become aware of the sound of a gruff motor close by. >From out of nowhere, Jimmy appears at the controls of a JCB digger, smiling that ugly smug smile, but with a demonic gleam in his eye.
The lads wanted to know how they were going to get the gear on the other side of the fence to get into the van? Jimmy repeats their question. Pointing to the scoop of the digger, he shouts, ‘LOB IT IN HERE AND DUMP IT OVER THE FENCE!’ And he begins to laugh again.
Mike has left for his shift and Nikki and Jerome stand in the middle of the Dixon lounge. Nikki holds the vouchers the insurance company have sent them in her hand and contemptuously throws them onto the dining table.
All the insurance company did was to send vouchers for them to buy clothing! She exclaims in disbelief. Vouchers worth £700! Why, even the government had stopped issuing vouchers to asylum seekers, but she and Jerome had to suffer the indignity of the voucher system!
She picks the vouchers up again. Why, they even specified at what shops they had to be used! (Obviously, no designer shops were mentioned).
It’s the way the insurance company does things, Jessie says, stolidly. (It ensures, bimbo, that you use the vouchers for articles for which you claimed and not for something else).
Didn’t her grandmother understand? Whinges Nikki, putting her face close to Jessie’s as though the older woman were deaf. Nikki didn’t need vouchers! She needed money for her tuition.
Jessie tries to explain patiently to her selfish, unreasonable and spoiled granddaughter that the insurance company had split the amount of the claim between the younger couple and the older one as fairly as they could.
But £700 is not £7000! Whines Nikki. She wants ALL the money owed to her in the claim - £7000! And now!
(Sorry, here’s another question. I’m confused. I thought the £7000 claim was for Jerome’s lost gear only. Surely Nikki has a separate list. How much is she asking? Are they asking £7000 apiece?)
Back at the warehouse, the lads begin to load the gear into the scoop of the JCB. Plank urges Tim to hurry and get out quickly, but Tim wants his pick of the leather goods to flog. That’s what he came for.
Back at the Dixons’, Jessie is finding it increasingly difficult to maintain her calm whilst trying to reason with Nikki. She’s sorry that Nikki and Jerome have to literally start from scratch in replacing their belongings, but she and Ray have to use the bulk of the money to refurbish the bungalow.
That money is rightfully HERS! Storms Nikki, stamping her foot, petulantly. How could her own grandmother deny her what belonged to her! How could Jessie be so selfish!
Jessie’s face hardens imperceptibly. There’s no need for Nikki to try making Jessie feel guilty, she says, not when it was Nikki’s fault in the first place that the bungalow burned at all.
Nikki then pulls out her trump card. Jessie could EASILY afford to let Nikki and Jerome have the £7k that was theirs. After all, Jessie had loads of money, herself, in addition to the insurance claim. Why, she didn’t need to use the claim money for the bungalow at all.
Jessie argues with Nikki that neither she nor Ray had much of anything left. Why, poor Ray couldn’t even afford to pay for a decent funeral for his mother.
Nikki sneers openly at her grandmother. Jessie needn’t try to play the innocent with her, pleading poverty, when Nikki knew full well her grandmother’s financial worth.
Jessie’s face hardens even more, as her ungrateful bitch of a bimbo granddaughter reveals to all that Jessie was sitting on £20K worth of share certificates, and she wouldn’t even share that with her own flesh and blood. Jessie is supposed to love her. Turning to Ray, whose face is a picture, Nikki asks sarcastically if Ray knew about this.
(Actually, you stupid bitch, Jessie may have been sitting on this treasure as a legacy to pass onto you, when she dies. But you’ve just spoiled that, haven’t you, you prize arsehole?)
As Tim and Plank frantically load the leather gear and other assorted goods into the scoop, Jimmy walks calmly by, his arms laden with Easter Eggs and chocolate bunnies. Hey, he stops the lads, these’ll go a treat with Linds, Wills and Kylie, he repeats, and walks away. Tim shouts after him that he needs the money.
In addition to having a drink at The Shelf, Max and his two mates are now enjoying a meal. George jokes that this was one of the reasons he persuaded Max to be on the Board of Governors - freebies at the restaurant. The smug trio toast their success, before Piranha-face asks how Max and George knew each other.
Oh, Max and George go back a long way, Max informs her. George explains that the two used to play cricket together.
Oooh-erm simpers Gaby the Grin, does that mean that they got to polish their balls on their trousers?
Max laughs over-heartily. Yes, he replies, coyly, but not on each other.
Hollow, phoney laughter resounds sickeningly.
The lads have now loaded the JCB and give Jimmy the all clear. He takes off in the machine, veering here and there in a zigzag line toward the chain fence. Plank is still noticeably wary about the heist.
Back at The Shelf, George is taking his leave of Max and the stalking female vampire.
As he prepares to leave the two alone, he jokingly asks Max if Jacqui minds him being out with strange women.
Oh, Jacqui, replies Max, suddenly remembering that he was married and only recently too. She’s taken the kids to her mother’s for a couple of weeks, he says, self-consciously.
So, deduces the Amazing Walking Grin, Jacqui is Max’s wife? (Er, yes, didn’t George imply that?)
Poor woman, coos Grin, Max must see very little of her if he’s here most evenings.
Max admits, self-deprecatingly, that he’s a bit of a workaholic.
Oh, just like her husband, remarks Gaby.
Still, oozes the reptillian Max, Jacqui’s fortnight away offered him a welcome break from the kids. (What break from the kids? They’re alseep when he leaves in the morning and asleep when he returns at night. If anyone needed a break from the children, it’s Jacqui). They were lovely, but extremely exhausting, complains Max. AND having children DOES tend to take over one’s life -
Which is why she’s delayed starting a family, purrs Gaby the Grin. Impinges on the social life.
Social life? What social life? Jokes Max. This is as close to a social life as he gets.
Nikki has spread her poison and now she and Jerome have departed to leave Ray and Jessie alone to mull over the revelation of Jessie’s nest egg.
Ray is beside himself with disappointment and anger. When Kitty had to go into a nursing home, he says, tearfully, he was forced to put her into a rubbish home, because he couldn afford anything better. Now he was scrimping to pay for her funeral. (Er, sorry, where’s brother Bernard? Shouldn’t he be asked to contribute?)
And here’s Jessie, hiding £20K in shares from Ray. What does that say about them as a couple? What does that say about their marriage?
Jessie looks away from Ray, into the camera, a hard, angry look on her visage.
Jimmy has managed to fanagle the JCB up to the chain fence. He raises the scoop and drops the gear on the other side of the fence. It falls in a jumbled heap. Tim and Plank watch the manoeuvre with dismay. Just think how long it would take them to gather up the gear and replace in in the van.
As Jimmy’s doing this, another van arrives at the main gate. Jimmy returns to the waiting lads and demands another bucketload of swag. Tim is annoyed at the way Jimmy has dumped the good all over the place.
‘You’ve wrecked this, you bleurt!’ He screams at Jimmy.
‘I’M THE CREME DE LA CRIME!’ Shouts Jimmy, ignoring Tim. He turns the JCB around for another saunter to the gate, shouting all the time about the Corkhills being the ‘Creme de la Crime’ of Liverpool. He’s bashing and smashing the JCB about, clearly unable to control it, whilst shouting about his criminal activities at the top of his voice.
Meanwhile, the two men in the van, one of them Dougie, have returned because the previous shift there, had forgotten to padlock the main gate. However, they get a surprise, with all the activity going on inside. It’s not easy to miss Jimmy’s antics.
Tim and Plank suss that someone has returned and hide in the shrubbery. As Jimmy saunters by in the van, Tim hisses, ‘Dixie! Van at the gate!’ But Jimmy’s in his own little world.
Dougie and his henchman enter the premises suspiciously. Jim, still in the JCB, spies them at last, as the lads decide that they have to get out now or end up dead. Cue the unnecessary and corny playing of that wonderful Shadows track, Apache, likening the scene to a showdown between Jimmy and the villains. Jimmy, in the JCB at one end of the warehouse concourse, lines up against Dougie and friend at the other end, as Jimmy grinds toward them in the JCB, shouting about his being the Creme de la Crime, at the top of his voice.
Max has moved behind the bar of The Shelf and offers to open another bottle of wine for Gaby, suggesting that the ‘three’ of them should make this sort of meeting a habit after Board meetings. Gaby refuses the offer of another drink, saying that she has to go, but it was nice chatting to Max. Max helps her on with her coat, and she gives him her business card, hinting that they might to a lot more bumping into each other in the future.
Nikki and Jerome have returned to Hotel Corkhill, where Nikki is feeling great remorse for having effectively ruined her grandmother’s marriage. She admits to Jerome that she’s sorry she mentioned those shares.
Jerome, the selfish, opportunistic get, isn’t sorry that she did. This is Jerome who thought nothing of blowing his father’s legacy left to him to pay for his education. As far as he’s concerned, Jessie is hypocrite, who lied through her teeth about those shares. One day, he vows, he and Nikki will get what’s theirs by right. (Be careful of what you say).
Max, left alone with his wine in the restaurant, gazes longingly at Gaby the Grin’s business card, when his mobile rings. It’s Jacqui. She’s surprised to find him at The Shelf so late, and Max lies, telling her he’s just locking up for the night.
With The Shadows twanging in the background, Jimmy faces dubious Doug and his chain-bearing henchman. Tim whispers to Plank, in abject fear, that because Jimmy’s ‘lost it’, they all could end up dead.
Jacqui’s suspicious of the way Max is sounding on the phone and is asking him what’s wrong. Max denies anything’s wrong. He tells her that he’s feeling lonely about going home to an empty house.
The showdown has reached a climax at the warehouse, as Jimmy careens past an astonished Dougie and mate, crashing through the fence and zigzagging down the road on the other side. As he grinds past Dougie, the villain is heard to shout, ‘You’re dead, you beaut!’
Tim and Plank quickly scarper over the fence as the lock-up door rolls down.The villains scatter, ostensibly to look for Jimmy.
Max is still nursing a drink and speaking wearily to Jacqui, assuring her that he’s fine, only tired. He’s not very convincing, and he already sounds as though he’s bored with his new wife.
Tim and Plank have piled what they could in the van and are about to set off. Plank is anxious to get away from the warehouse, in case the villains returned. Tim maintains that they can’t go without Jimmy.
Plank reminds Tim roughly that Jimmy messed the job up, but Tim is determined not to leave without Jimmy and they set off in search of him in the van.
Jimmy is seen up ahead, careering around the road erratically in the JCB and laughing at the top of his lungs.
Symbolic. Jimmy’s lost it, and so has Brookside.
Summary © 2002 Marion Watts
Brookside and all related materials are © Mersey Television 1982-2002