One week into the new Brookside, and the verdict, as far as this viewer is concerned, is thumbs up. But it’s tenterhooks time, as we wait for the ratings for that week. According to postings on various Brookside sites, it seems that for the week ending 10th March, Brookside only managed 400,000 viewers!!!! Less than 2% of the viewing public!
Now this is critical. And Uncle Phil, media slave that he is, has GOT to do something fast. Someone, somewhere has got to get the word out to the intelligent millions who ran like rats deserting a sinking ship, that Brookside is back and it means business.
But on the other hand, the fact that the new family appears to have been cast from wannabe hopefuls from ALL walks of life, doesn’t bode good. So, what happened to casting professional actors? OK, many professional actors who were born and bred in Liverpool ACTUALLY live and try to work in London. Brookside have even cast a few of them - Neil Caple and Margi Campi spring instantly to mind.
So ...
Uncle Phil needs to swallow his pride and take a first-class train fare south to the Smoke and find some true Scouse actor with a bit of stage experience. What about the bloke who played Nicholas Lindhurst’s mate in Goodnight, Sweetheart? The same one who was in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels? What about him for the dad in the new family? What about another McGann? For Christ’s sake, there are enough of them?
New central, slightly brooding and menacing male lead? Someone to make the likes of Sammy Rogers et al go weak at the knees? How about this? The unseen Ian Lee sells his interest in The Parade and Garage to a Londoner who’s either an Italian or Greek with dodgy mob connections AND a mate of Barry Grant’s. Get Michael Greco, who’s been axed from Brookside to play the role. This man is supposedly the sexiest man in soap. He was criminally underused on Eastenders and Brookside could give him a chance to shine. Think of all the viewers who would turn on the programme to watch him. And there might just be a way to resurrect Callum too!!!
Give it some thought, Phil. I know either you or your minions read this. I shall expect a suitable comment either from ‘Anonymous’ on Alan’s site, or Mr ....... on Annabelle’s.
The programme opens with Antony, his school uniform wet and grubby with mud, running frantically through the woods until he reaches a set of iron gates.
The camera pans back to reveal Ant sitting morosely in his room, staring in horror at the muddy bundle of clothing he’s just taken out of his bag. We know then that the first scene was taking place in Ant’s mind as he remembers the events surrounding his last encounter with Imelda.
Suddenly he becomes aware of the sound of footsteps coming up the sitcom stairs. Quickly, he rolls his dirty clothing into an even smaller bundle and stuffs it in the recess at the bottom of his cupboard.
Over the way, at Chateau Farnham, Mrs Farnham is rushing about at the start of her hectic day. She’s followed, close at heel, by Mr Farnham, who - in a reversal of Brookside roles - carries the famous Brookside laundry basket.
Jacqui is in a hurry because she’s got to get the purchase of Bev’s Bar underway. Max is still unable to believe that she actually means to go through with the purchase of this bar. Another commitment of this sort would seriously overstretch Jacqui, especially with the state of that place at the moment.
Max takes pleasure in reminding Jacqui that she’d formerly promised him not to do anything about this venture without consulting him first. Surely she isn’t serious about going through with this?
Jacqui explains that she has to buy the bar now, because she’s admitted that she was investing in it IN PUBLIC to Leanne.
But that was only to warn Leanne off bothering Bev, Max says. And anyway, Jacqui only admitted that to Leanne, not to the whole world.
In an ideal world, Jacqui remarks to Max as she puts the finishing touches on her lipstick (in the living room, where all Brookside actresses put their make-up on), Leanne Powell wouldn’t exist.
Max, still ferrying the laundry basket about, tells Jacqui that she’s only buying the bar to spite Leanne; and things done in spite most generally have a habit of coming a cropper.
Jacqui whirls around to answer Max with a retort that she’d make a success out of this spite work too, just watch!
Next door, a humble-looking Nikki Shadwick rings the Dixon doorbell, holding a piece of paper in her hand.
Meanwhile, on The Parade, Bev, a creature of habit, descends the stairs from her flat and unlocks the door to the bar, to begin another day. Immediately she appears, Leanne, who’s been watching for her from the Garage, verbally pounces, following her as she walks to the bar and berating her at the top of her foghorn voice.
Oh, so Bev still has the keys to the bar, Leanne smirks. She’s surprised Jacqui’s trusted Bev with the keys. And why, pray tell, was Bev still bothering to turn up for work, when the bar was as dead as a dodo? And there was Bev, thinking herself so clever, with Jacqui Dixon coming to her rescue! Didn’t Bev realise she’d end up only being used as Jacqui Dixon’s slave? Leanne is screaming now and banging on the glass of the main window, as Bev stares balefully at her from within.
Why, that Jacqui Dixon would have Bev cleaning the bogs for her, she would, shrieks Leanne. That would certainly put Bev in her place! Oh, and the name! She continues. Leanne notes that the sign outside still advertises ‘Bev’s Bar’. So what’s it going to be now? Jacqui’s Joint?
Antony is walking along the corridor at Brookie Comp, when he suddenly spies three policement speaking to a member of staff. Knowing that they’ve come about the disappearance of Imelda, he abruptly turns away and hides his face.
Sammy and Katie are leaving the flat, both going to work. Katie is nervous because she’s being interviewed for the position of Head Receptionist at the Clinic. Sammy is confident that Katie will get the job. If anything, Lady Muck says, Katie deserves this.
Back at Number 8, Nikki is having a tense visit with her grandmother. Nikki stands in the foreground, grasping the piece of paper firmly in her fist and looking worried. Jessie faffs about in the background in the Dixon kitchen.
As a way of making conversation, Jessie asks Nikki if Jimmy’s been ‘signed out’ yet.
Nikki replies, irritably, that Jimmy’s in hospital, not prison. She’s been to see him a couple of times and finds the visits really upsetting. Lying there in hospital, she says, Jimmy looks vulnerable, as if he needs to be protected. Anyway, she’s heard that he’s not going to be allowed home until he’s got adequate House Support to monitor his condition.
Jessie, looking sceptical, asks about Jimmy’s family, and Nikki tells her that Lindsey and Kylie were due to come down from Newcastle this weekend, in order to see Jimmy and have a chat with his doctors. She understood that a decison would be made about Jimmy’s care then. But really, she sighs, poor Jimmy has no one.
Without looking at Nikki, Jess raises her eyebrows in scepticism, remarking pointedly that it would do Jimmy a great deal of good to see Lindsey this weekend. After all, she says, Jimmy needs his family around him at a time like this, emphasising the word ‘family’.
Next door at the Farnhams’, Max, still laden with the laundry basket, and Jacqui are still arguing about the feasibility of her buying the bar from Bev, especially the fact that, whilst Jacqui would own the bar, Bev would run it for her in the capacity of Manager. Max asks Jacqui to remember that it was Bev who took a solid business venture off Jacqui and proceeded to run it into the ground.
The fact that the bar is in such a dire state isn’t Bev’s fault, argues Jacqui, it’s Leanne’s. Bev made one mistake, she says, by leaving Leanne in charge, and now she’s paying for it.
But, Max counters, the way the bar is at the moment, it would be hard enough for Jacqui to re-establish the place as a solid commodity WITHOUT any of her other commitments. Max accuses her of being on a guilt trip as far as Bev is concerned and reminds her that she’s not Jacqui Dixon anymore. She’s Jacqui Farnham now, with a husband and two children. She would be stretched beyond her capabilities taking this bar on.
Jacqui disagrees. Of course, the bar would need a lot of her attention at first, she says. More than the Health Club, in fact; but mostly it would be during the day that she’d spend time there. The evenings would be all her own, as Bev would take over then.
And what about Josh? Asks Max, playing devil’s advocate. Who’ll look after him in the evening? (We know, don’t we?)
Jacqui then accuses Max of discriminating against Bev because she’s a single mother.
That’s just great, fluffs Max, Jacqui at work during the day, whilst HE worked evenings at The Shelf.
Jacqui then explains to Max that Bev’s position would be equivalent to that of Sol at the Health Club. Sol runs the Health Club; Bev would run the bar. They would be her managers and she would manage the managers.
And who would manage Jacqui? Asks Max, sombrely.
Jacqui tells Max that he’s not listening to her at all.
Max accuses Jacqui of undertaking a business venture purely on an emotional whim, whilst Jacqui counters that any other time, Max would be fully supportive of her taking such a venture as an opportunity.
Max simply and finally admits that he’s afraid Jacqui won’t be able to cope.
Well, then, assures Jacqui, if she isn’t able to cope, she’ll sell the thing after a few months. But even if she does this, she’ll sell it as a going concern, and she’ll get a profit on the £12,000 she forked over to buy the place.
Max sighs, knowing he’s defeated in this argument and asks that Jacqui promise to be careful.
Jacqui jokes that she promises to be careful - except in bus shelters.
Speaking of bus shelters, Rachel and Mike alight at the one on The Parade. As they get off the bus, they start to moan about being back in the real world and reminisce about the life of luxury they led at the hotel.
As they walk along the Parade, Rachel admits that it was weird being without Beth the previous night and hoped the child behaved herself for Jessie. As they walk, they spot Bev standing with a broom outside the bar, glaring silently at a sullen Leanne across the way in the garage, who’s glaring back.
As the couple greet Bev, they asks what she’s doing, just standing there. Bev explains that she and Leanne are having a staring contest. Mike asks if there’s been any progress in finding a buyer for the bar.
Maybe Mike should ask the new owner that, Bev quips. It’s his sister, Jacqui.
As Bev goes inside the Bar and Mike and Rachel walk toward the Close, Rachel coos gleefully. Her plan to get Jacqui to buy the bar worked. Now maybe she’ll get her old job back.
As Jacqui is about to go out the front door finally, Max stops her yet again, reminding her that it’s not too late to back out of this business arrangement. Jacqui’s mind, however, is made up. She’s buying the bar, and that’s a fact with which Max would simply have to live. After all, she reminds him again, she’d made a public announcement in front of Leanne Powell that she intended to buy the bar.
She promises Max that Harry and Emma won’t suffer from her doing any extra hours at the bar, and then Max whinges that the couple hardly see each other as it is. Jacqui urges Max to take on extra help at The Shelf as he planned to do originally.
They WILL work this one out, she promises, faithfully, if they learn to manage their time.
Over at Brookie Comp, Marty and Ant meet accidentally on the stairs. Marty asks if Ant’s heard the latest news. It seems Imelda Clough’s really gone missing. Well, crows Marty, good riddance was all he had to say about that madam.
Ant looks desolate and says nothing.
Bev climbs a filth-ridden stairwell at the bar’s premises, starting a clean-up operation that should have been done weeks ago. The carpeted stairwell is dark and littered with the detritus of half-eaten food, cigarette butts and goodness knows what.
Suddenly, from below, she hears Jacqui calling for her.
Back at the Dixons’, Jessie unwraps a new set of sheets and remarks that she’s just going to run the set through the washer before putting them away properly.
Nikki asks her why she does that, and Jess explains that she feels that she should wash new bed linen before using it. (So I’m not unusual in doing that, then). Nikki examines the new sheets and remarks resentfully that they looked expensive.
They would have been, replies Jessie, shortly, but she bought them on sale. Some people know how to pinch pennies and get more, she remarks, looking accusingly at Nikki.
Anyway, she continues, coldly, she was under the impression that Nikki was off to London this week for this student demo or something, about the tuition fees Nikki was always whingeing on about.
Nikki, clutching her crumbled piece of paper and toying with her hair, looks at the floor in shame and mumbles that the Student Union was only going to subsidise part of their expenses, and she couldn’t afford to go. She’s only just heard from the university about her hardship loan, she says. They were only prepared to loan Nikki £80. After she’d paid back everyone to whom she owed money, she says, she’d have about a fiver left for herself. Now, to top it all off, she’s received a final demand from the university for unpaid tuition fees. Unless they receive this, Nikki will be kicked out.
Jessie gives her granddaughter a classic stony stare.
As Bev enters the bar to find Jacqui waiting for her, she asks apprehensively if Jacqui still wanted to buy the bar.
Jacqui assures her that she does still, indeed, want to buy the bar.
Bev sighs in relief. She’s been worried sick, she tells Jacqui, imagining her and Josh being thrown onto the streets. So, she continues, getting down to business, how much over and above the manager’s salary was Jacqui prepared to offer her?
The manager’s job? Queries Jacqui, deciding to play hard to get.
Yes, replies Bev, unblinking. She wants the manager’s job.
Well, Jacqui hesitates. Maybe temporarily, just to see how Bev gets on. As for the price, there was no value in the stock of the place at present, so, on top of Bev’s salary and tips - and a share of the profits - Jacqui is prepared to offer her £12,000, as a gesture of goodwill.
TWELVE THOUSAND POUNDS! Shouts Bev, in disbelief, reminding Jacqui that she paid Jacqui £90,000 for the place.
That was when the bar was a going concern, explains Jacqui. She WAS originally only going to offer £10k, but she tells Bev that she figures £12k would cover Bev’s rent and expenses for Josh for the year -
At that moment, poor pitiful Katie enters the bar, seeing Jacqui inside. She only wants a word, the wretch pleads.
Jacqui briefly tells Katie that she’s having a business meeting with Bev; couldn’t this wait?
Dr Parr needs to see Jacqui, Katie tells her, something about Jacqui’s test results coming back. Anyway, she had to come here to tell her, Katie explains. She’d tried telephoning Jacqui, but her mobile was turned off.
As Nikki and Jessie continue their discussion of Nikki’s finances, Jessie shakes her head slowly in despair. Nikki has only herself to blame for her predicament, pronounces Jessie.
Yes, agrees Nikki with shame that seems slightly less than sincere and geared towards getting what she wants from Jessie. She admits that she spent more on herself than she should have (including wasting the entire contents of two tuition cheques on personal items). But, she protests vainly, most of her debt concerns tuition fees. (Like hell! I recall an intimate conversation she had with Jerome cuddled on a couch at the beginning of January, when she said that the bulk of her debt centred on an overdraft, store cards and credit card, in addition to unpaid tuition fees. Discuss on the various forums, please).
Nikki then begins the requisite Party Political Broadcast for the Student Whingers Party, wondering aloud why the government wasn’t interested in students. How on earth did they expect British students to compete with the best in Germany and Japan? (Well, they could start by giving the Brits a good foundation education and teaching them the difference between formal expression and text, then go onto proper debating skills in an effort to open minds).
Jessie stops the rant, in great consternation, clearly tired of hearing something she’s heard many times before from Nikki’s tape recorder mouth. Is Nikki trying to tell Jessie that the girl’s finally learned her lesson?
Nikki, sensing her grandmother faltering, nods obediently, barely concealing her panting in anticipation of a pulsating cheque with four figures being placed in her sweaty, greedy, little palm.
Jessie warily admits that she and Ray have been talking about Jessie’s legacy, about her using it on something more than funeral expenses. She abruptly asks to have a look at the bill.
Antony sits, zombie-like, in front of the Murray television, watching yet another mindless episode of The Magic Rabbits. But he’s only staring blindly at the television set, not registering what’s being presented at all.
The front door opens and Dire enters noisily, bawling out at the top of her stentorian voice. She briefly asks Ant how his day was, but before giving the lad a chance to reply, she launches into a tirade about HER day at work. That big-mouthed Emily O’Leary next door only went and got herself a payrise off Jan. Nothing at all about a payrise for Dire, oh no!
She marches stolidly into the kitchen, still whingeing at the top of her voice about the injustice of Emily getting a rise over Dire.
Almost immediately, Marty enters, asking how Antony is. Again, before the kid can open his mouth, Dire descends, telling Marty she was only telling Ant about HER day, when Marty wants to tell the world about HIS day.
It was like a madhouse at school - cops everywhere, he says, not noticing that Antony, in the foreground looks increasingly uneasy and upset. And the cops ONLY reckon that that Imelda one has done a runner away from home.
Dire is shocked.
It’s true, says Marty, something about her leaving a note. Plank enters and is told the theory, to which he replies with a hearty YES!
Antony, again unnoticed by everyone, is clearly horrified, knowing that Imelda is dead.
Mike and Rachel enter the small room they share at Ron’s. Mike surveys it with disdain, realising at last that they’ve come back to reality. Rachel admits it’s not as roomy as the hotel, and Mike calls it a shoebox.
Still, says Rachel, trying to be optimistic, it’s their shoebox.
Which they rent from his dad, Mike reminds her. He has nothing and he’s going nowhere off a job that pays him buttons. He at least wants a servant to cook and clean for him. (Er, isn’t that Rachel?)
Unpacking her bag, Rachel finds a bottle of posh shampoo and wonders where it came from. Mike admits that he lifted it from the hotel for her. Rachel jokingly calls Mike a thieving scally.
Mike ruefully admits that, in the eyes of his father and Jacqui, he’s a no-mark, but he wants to change all that for their benefit. He wants to show them. The couple end the scene in a snog.
Jacqui and Bev are still discussing the sale of the bar. Bev says that the old sign is still outside, but she imagines that Jacqui will want to change the name to something she prefers - like Jacqui’s Joint, perhaps.
Jacqui admits that she hasn’t thought about a name. For the time being, Bar Brookie will have to do.
Under old management, mutters Bev.
Jacqui tells her that she wants the two of them to work flat out to ensure that the bar opens as quickly as possible, and the bar can make some dosh for Bev. So, finalises Jacqui, shall they do the deal for Josh’s sake?
The two women shake hands and Bar Brookie is reborn.
Dire and Marty sit on the sitcom sofa, whilst Ant sits, again zombie-like, in the foreground, but listening to his parents speculate about Imelda. Marty explains to Dire that the police think Imelda ran away to London. Apparently, she’s threatened to do that before. There was something about an e-mail on her computer to a friend she’d met on holiday, and Paige said something about Imelda wanting to run away.
Well, Marty summarises, London is welcome to her. He hopes she’s gone for good.
Antony rises suddenly and dashes upstairs, unable to take their gossip anymore.
Jacqui and Bev step out of the bar and onto The Parade. Across the way, Leanne stands outside the garage arranging floral bouquets, and glaring at the two women. Bev watches as Leanne alternates between staring at them and bending and stretching to rearrange the bouquets.
Bev, at the top of her voice, berates and taunts Leanne for the fraud she is, why people might begin to think that Leanne was was dishonest, the way she was claiming incapacity, yet bending and stretching to accommodate her work.
Turning to Bev, Jacqui tells her that if she gets any hassle at all from Leanne, she’s to let Jacqui know immediately.
At that moment, Mike and Rachel appear walking along The Parade. Spying Jacqui and Bev standing in front of the bar, Mike asks if there’s any truth to the rumour that Jacqui’s bought the bar.
Jacqui admits that it’s true and Bev pipes up that she’s going to manage the bar for Jacqui -
Well, temporarily at first, Jacqui interjects.
As Mike and Rachel leave the two women, Rachel is excited. Oooh, she witters, again forgetting she now has a brain, Did M-eye-ke hyeah that? Oooh, M-eye-ke m-eye-ght have chance o’gettin’ old job back!
Mike shakes his head resolutely. He was NOT going back to work for Jacqui. He was Jacqui’s brother, not her lapdog, he vows.
Upstairs in his room at Sitcom House, Antony Murray cries.
Seated at the Dixon dining room table, Jessie, with a sour look of disapproval on her face, grudgingly writes the cheque for the payment of Nikki’s overdue tuition fees. Seated next to her, Nikki looks smug and as pleased as the proverbial cat who’s swallowed the canary and got away from her. If her mouth were covered in feathers, it wouldn’t look amiss.
As Jess finishes writing the cheque with a flourish, Nikki thanks her grandmother sweetly, holding out her hand eagerly to receive the cheque and promising Jessie that she would take it into the university as soon as possible.
Glaring mightily with distrust, Jessie snatches the written cheque swiftly out of her grandaughter’s greedy grasp.
‘Oh, no, you won’t!’ Jessie snaps, shrewishly. ‘I’ll see that the university gets this cheque, myself!’
Nikki backs down, suitably chastened.
And now, continues Jessie, she supposes she’d best see to the insurance money Nikki and Jerome reckon they were owed.
Nikki can’t help looking even more pleased with herself in her persistant niggling at Jessie for the monies owed. Her ship seems to have come in at last, her fingers almost visibly twitching in anticipation.
Separate cheques? Asks Jess, with more than a hint of sarcasm.
Ooh, yes, please, twitters Nikki, in eager haste.
Without another word, Jessie writes two separate cheques for identical amounts and hands them to Nikki. Swiftly, the look of greedy joy that formerly covered Nikki’s perma-tanned face turns to petulant disappointment.
Five hundred pounds! She exclaims. Why, that wouldn’t even cover her overdraft! And as for Jerome, why, that wasn’t a dent on his original claim!
Jessie regards her spoiled grandchild sternly. (Actually, I’d be on the phone to Margi, telling her exactly what Nikki had been up to on her spending spree, but that’s beside the point; and as those non-intellectual Philistines Lez, StephENNie, Tootle-oodly-oo and poor pitiful Flembo can’t be arsed to differentiate my comments from the content of this summary, I’ll stop there for their pathetic benefit).
She points out to Nikki that she had paid the girl’s overdue tuition fees. Wasn’t that enough, considering it was largely Nikki’s fault that they were homeless? She thought it in poor taste for Nikki to kick up a fuss.
Nikki, unattractively, pushes out her lower lip in a picture of sublime recalcitrance. Jerome didn’t start the fire, she mutters, and her Nan didn’t pay his tuition fees.
Jessie apologises, but remains stern. She knows that £500 apiece isn’t what the young couple originally wanted, but they would just have to make do and start again. They had all been under severe stress lately. And Ray and Jessie did honestly need the bulk of the insurance money for the proposed alterations they hoped to make on the bungalow.
What sort of alterations? Nikki wants to know.
Extra space, quips Jess, tidying up her chequebooks and paraphernalia. Before they were all jumbled on top of one another. Maybe if there were a bit more space, it might justify the rent money Nikki and Jerome would be expected to pay, Jess finishes pointedly.
Gulping with shame, Nikki finds words enough to thank Jessie, telling Jessie that she loves her grandmother, even when they do fall out.
As Antony sits crying in his room, Dire enters abruptly. Startled out of his sobbing, Antony jumps to his feet and exclaims, ‘Oh, God!’
Dire looks at him quizzically. She’s only there to collect his washing, she says, laughing. And to remind him that dinner would be ready in a few minutes. She pauses to shout at an unseen Adele to turn down her thumping music, which pervades the background, before admonishing Antony to go and wash his hands.
Noticing his tear-streaked face, she suddenly becomes concerned and asks why he’s been crying. Antony lies, telling her he’s poked himself in the eye and leaves the room for the privacy of the bathroom. Dire draws the curtains of the lad’s room against the evening twilight.
Lady Muck, AKA Sammy Rogers, sashays into the Walk-In Clinic and walks directly to the reception desk where her poor, pitiful, greasy, smelly, self-pitying sister is working.
Sammy wants to know if Katie’s heard yet whether or not she’s got the prestigious position of Head Receptionist. Katie tells her, smugly, that she got the job and is due to start right away.
Sammy is overjoyed. This is just the kick-start her sister needs, and she tells Katie that now she can begin to put the past year behind her.
In the background of the scene, we see Jacqui Dixon surreptitiously leave her consultation with Dr Parr and turn to try to leave the reception area without attracting Katie’s attention. From the look on her face, the viewers know Jacqui is upset.
Katie calls out to her, but Jacqui, in a strained voice, tells Katie that she’s got to go home right away.
As Jacqui scurries out the door, Katie affirms to Sammy that now SHE, Katie, was in charge of the clinic’s reception. Sammy tells Katie that she should be proud of herself.
Antony returns to his room, having washed his hands, only to be confronted by his habitually hatchet-faced stepmother, shoving the wad of muddy school uniform into his frightened little face.
Antony looks as if he might just shit himself at any moment. Just LOOK at these dirty clothes! Dire exclaims. How on earth did they get this state!
Thinking fast on his feet, Antony mumbles that he’d been playing football after school with some mates. Antony is such a bad liar that it’s difficult to understand why someone as suspicious as Dire didn’t pick up on this.
But as Antony utters the lie, Dire stands transfixed, clutching the muddy clothes ecstatically to her bosom and raising her eyes beatifically to the heavens. One almost expects a beam of holy light to engulf her sublimely thankful face. Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition! Mah boy is NORMAL!
Antony, unnerved by his stepmother’s transfiguration, asks her tentatively if she’s angry because he’s messed up his clothing.
Angry? She repeats sweetly. Why, she’s anything but ... And as for his father, why, Marty will be over the MOON. Antony playing football! Antony with bona fide mates! (How about Antony drowning a girl in a pond?)
Jacqui Farnham enters Chateau Farnham, to be boisterously greeted by Harry and Emma, dutifully shouting, ‘Mummy!’ She enters the room, desultorily and greets them, noticing Max, playing househusband and brewing a fresh pot of coffee.
She quiets the children and tells them that she has to speak to Daddy for a moment.
Antony lies in his room and gazes at his poster of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. He’s utterly beside himself in guilt, as we hear the strains of music issuing from Adele’s CD player next-door.
Jacqui has taken a seat in the Farnham kitchen, as Max pours her a fresh cup of coffee. He’s spoken to Bev, he tells her, fussing about like a maiden aunt. He gathers that there’s no chance of Jacqui changing her mind about buying the bar.
Jacqui’s emotive eyes avoid Max’s gaze. She’s clearly upset. Not really, she manages to answer. Not yet, anyway. As things stand, she continues, she might have no choice but to change her mind.
Well, fusses Max, primly, he did want her to take his advice.
Jacqui admits that she’s been to see Dr Parr.
Max, immediately attuned to the fact that something is bothering his wife, is concerned. What’s wrong? He demands.
Noting his demeanour, Jacqui assures him she’s not sick; she’s just going to have a baby, that’s all.
The look of exaggerated horror on Max’s face is belied only by his following line, easily the most insipid of late to be used on Brookside.
‘But ... How?’
‘How do you think?’ Snaps Jacqui. ‘I’m bloody pregnant.’
Peter Cox has redeemed himself, somewhat, with this episode.
Summary © 2002 Marion Watts
Brookside and all related materials are © Mersey Television 1982-2002