... is basically simple. If you miss an episode, if you subsequently miss the omnibus, and/or if you neglected to tape either, these summaries endeavour to provide as accurate a picture of the episode as possible. Hence, they are structured in scene order. There is also an additional purpose, and that is to initiate discussion through comment. Discussion points/questions may be posted on either Alan’s Brookside Soapbox or Annabelle’s Brooksider sites.
I’m not apologising for the length of these summaries, as to shorten them in anyway would detract from the effect of trying to make them as much like the show as possible. Roughly, and reading slow, it might take someone about as long to read one, as it might to watch Brookside, take away the commercial breaks.
I realise that SOME PEOPLE might find the act of reading anything more strenuous than The Daily Star somewhat laborious. THAT is not my problem. It’s not my problem that these people haven’t been exposed enough to reading something a bit more challenging than the latest tabloid, and if there be a problem of that sort to be addressed, I suggest they sue their local education authority or address their parents as to the cultural shortcomings inherent in their upbringing. Or ...
LEZ invest in a dictionary in order that we might understand the big words she uses!
The first thing the viewer sees in this episode is a shot of the bungalow, standing empty and damaged against the morning sky. Shortly, we realise that we are viewing this from Jerome’s perspective, as he stands gazing out of the front window at Hotel Corkhill. Nikki stands beside him.
Jerome tells her, reflectively, that every time he sees the bungalow, it reminds him of how lucky he is. Looking directly at Nikki for the first time, he asks if she realises that in the past 12 months, Jerome’s had three change of addresses - starting off at Mick’s, then moving back into the bungalow until the fire, and now ending up in some sort of quasi- halfway house, he ends derisively.
Nikki looks embarrassed by this apt observation. She blushes and evades Jerome’s gaze, doing the standard, stereotypical, looking-all-around-but-not-at-the-person-to-whom-you’re-talking trick, signifying discomfort and replies that living at the Corkhill house wasn’t so bad.
Jerome pokes his lower lip out in petulance mingled with disgust. Did Nikki not realise that Jerome emerged from that fire with only £3.00 and a mingy bingo jacket to his name, he pouts.
Nikki tries vainly to cheer him up, by teasing him and saying that she quite fancied his bingo jacket.
They are then interrupted by the noisy arrival do Timily, who enter carrying a tin of paint. Emily loudly announces that she and Tim were going to do a ‘changing rooms’ on Jimmy’s lounge. Well, actually, she clarifies herself, they were going to paint the lounge. She’d really love to do a complete make-over, but they really didn’t have the dosh to do that at present, so they’d just have to make do with painting it.
As the couple disappear into the rear portion of the house, Jerome and Nikki resume their discussion. Jerome confesses that living at Jimmy’s wouldn’t be so bad, if Jimmy were normal. He could cope with the situation if Jimmy were normal. And then there was the problem of Jessie and the paltry portion of the insurance money she was only allowing him and Nikki to have.
Nikki admits that she feels sorry for Jerome in relation to this problem, but he must understand that she’s stuck in the middle of the insurance claim.
So it’s come down to Nikki and Jerome versus Jessie and Ray, remarks Jerome, sourly. And Nikki and Jerome are skint and have to be made to scrape through somehow. That would be a tough enough predicament to handle, continues Jerome, glaring at Nikki accusingly, but the last thing he needs is Nikki to be doing a Good Samaritan turn by wanting to take responsiblity for caring for Jimmy when he’s released from hospital.
Jerome reminds her that they are supposed to be a couple; not only that, they were young and were supposed to be going out and having a good time, not tying themselves to a middle-aged madman, whose family couldn’t even handle him. Add to that, the fact that Nikki has her coursework to consider for university, and looking after Jimmy would turn into a high-stress situation.
Nikki maintains that this won’t stress her out.
Across the Close, at Chateau Farnham, Max is marking a A4 diary page headed ’22 November’ with the words ‘Baby Due’.
Jacqui enters the lounge and Max informs her that he’s just recording the delivery date. Jacqui pretends not to know what Max is talking about. ‘For the wine, you mean?’ She asks, falsely innocuous.
Max is still wanting to talk some more about the fact that the couple are expecting a baby, but Jacqui has other things on her mind. She’s expecting the decorators to ring her, but she’s got to get down to the bar right away. She tells Max if the decorators ring before he leaves, he’s to tell them they can reach her on her mobile.
Antony Murray stands at the front window of Sitcom House, and we surmise that this must be the first day of his Easter Break. He’s not looking at anything in particular, just staring blankly through the glass.
His loud-mouthed stepmother, Dire, enters the lounge and asks Antony if he wants any breakfast.
Antony replies absently that he doesn’t want any breakfast, and then Marty enters the lounge on his way to the kitchen, pushing past his pushy wife.
Dire winces briefly and clutches her midriff. Marty surmises from her reaction that - guess what? - SHE’S STARTED HER MONTHLY PERIOD AGAIN. NO BABY. BOO-HOO. (I’m beginning to know more about when Dire’s time is due than I do my own). Dire’s having cramps, and when she’s like this, she says, she lives on painkillers.
Marty suggests the Murray’s favourite panacea for any sort of illness, real or imaginary - Dire should call in sick.
Oh, no, she couldn’t do that, hisses Dire, in dread. For a start, they were booked solid at the Salon (that makes a change as the place is usually dead); besides that, Emily’s off, so they’re one person short. No, she maintains, her sick-leave days are well and truly over. Why, only recently Joanne’s been talking about expanding the business - wants to turn the place into a full-fledged beauty salon, with facials, manicures, massages, the works - everything Emily’s covered in her courses at techical college. If Joanne does that, Dire says, Dire will have to compete hard to justify her position as a mere stylist.
Over at NNT, poor, pitiful Katie emerges from her dingy, smelly bedroom, dressed almost like a bona fide professional to begin yet another day in the demanding world of being a Head Receptionist.
Nisha comments approvingly on Katie’s appearance - they may even have to start buying vegetable oil again, now that Katie’s washed her hair! Katie takes the compliment, saying that she doesn’t want to let Dr Parr down.
Nisha begins to moan, saying that she wished Katie’s spruce appearance matched that of the flat. Look at the state of the place, she says, indicating the untidiness, and general tippy state of the flat.
Katie immediately offers to clear up the mess before she goes to work.
No, replies Nisha. This is Sammy’s mess; Sammy should clear it up. If Katie continued to do this for her, Sammy would carry on living like a slattern. Nisha asks Katie if Sammy were like this at home?
Katie is forced to admit that Sammy kept their mother busy. She tries to make excuses for Sammy, saying that she’s got to accept that she doesn’t have a rich lifestyle anymore; she’s got to realise that she no longer has a wealthy husband and a staff to look after her wants and needs.
She’s got to pull her weight, remarks Nisha, harshly. And she yanks open an overhead cupboard, as an example to Katie. THAT was full last week! It’s not been replenished and Sammy hasn’t offered.
Katie mutters that she’ll do a shop after work.
Not good enough, says Nurse Bossy-Boots. She means what she’s saying. She can’t subsidise Sammy and Louise for much longer. Sammy has to start to pull her weight.
Back at Hotel Corkhill, Tim and Emily are preparing to begin their decorating. Emily is barking orders about what she wants Tim to do. She removes Cracker’s picture again from its place of honour, instructing Tim to ensure that the thing is put on Jimmy’s bed.
Jerome sits morosely by, watching the scene, but saying nothing.
Nikki listens for a moment to her sister giving Tim more orders, saying how she’s on her way out to spend the store vouchers Joanne gave her, and that she expects Tim to have removed the Corkhill fireplace by the time she’s returned.
Nikki speaks up, her voice filled with horror at what she perceives to be the callowness and shallowness of her sister and brother-in-law. It’s clear to her, she remarks, bitterly, that neither Tim nor Emily are remotely interested in Jimmy.
Emily reminds Nikki that Jimmy has a daughter, Lindsey, and that it’s up to Lindsey to meet responsibility for Jimmy in his present condition. She turns to resume giving orders to Tim; anyway, she finishes, over her shoulder to Nikki, she’s got better things to do with her life than be a wetnurse to Jimmy Corkhill.
Nikki appeals to Tim, reminding him that Jimmy took him and Emily under his roof, when no one else on The Close wanted to know them.
Yes, he did, Tim acknowledges, but Emily’s right. Jimmy’s not their responsibility. Besides, it’s plausible that sometimes Jimmy wouldn’t even know what day it is, if he gets out and goes into another manic phase. Besides, he continues, living as Jimmy’s lodgers is one thing, but he wouldn’t allow his missus to undertake the care of some mentally ill ‘alfella’.
Jerome, in this instance, surprisingly defends Nikki’s attitude toward Jimmy.
Tim begins to drill into the lounge wall, but suddenly he drills to far through the plaster and the drill tip pokes a hole in the Murray’s wall, much to Marty’s abject surprise.
Nisha and Katie survey the detritus of Sammy’s breakfast leftovers with disgust. Nisha remarks with dismay that the untidy kitchen with its half-eaten bowls of cereal is like something from Goldilocks and the Three Bears.
Katie tries to make a lame joke, stating that most mornings Sammy was like a grizzly bear.
Nisha’s not laughing. She’s about had enough of the Rogers family. She tells Katie that she’s at the end of her tether. It’s not just the untidyness either. Nisha reminds Katie that she’s currently got a lot of revision to do for her Nurse Prescriber’s exam in the next week, and she could do without Sammy playing music 24/7. She warns Katie that Sammy has to buck up her ideas on domesticity a bit more or else look for another place to live. And if that doesn’t work, Nisha continues, Nisha will move out, herself.
A chastened Timily stand in the Murray lounge, whilst Marty Murray angrily surveys the hole Tim has made in his wall. He tells Tim severely that he wants the hole sorted out by this evening. Tim agrees to this premise, and asks if Plank were available to give him a hand. Marty replies, saying that Plank is on a job, so he’ll be of no help to Tim.
What kind of job? Asks Tim, pleasantly.
The kind that earns real money, quips Marty. And he reiterates that he expects a top-class plastering job to be done by this evening, and no cowboys either.
Jacqui is standing in the middle of the bar, surveying the work done by the carpenters and awaiting her decorator, when poor, pitiful, nosey, untrustworthy Katie enters. Katie suggests that she and Jacqui get together Friday night, selfishly unmindful of the fact that Jacqui is now a married woman with two children and a third on the way, as well as two businesses to run. Jacqui remarks absently that she’s busy Friday evening. She’s working flat out to get this place opened as soon as possible, she explains. Why, even now she’s having to talk hard and fast to get the decorators to do what she wants. She asks Katie what brings her into the bar at this time of day?
Katie tells a lame lie about wanting to borrow some milk for the surgery.
Jacqui points out that Katie could easily have gone across the street to the garage, but Katie wrinkles her ugly, ski-jump nose at the prospect. Going to the garage, she says, would mean having to deal with Leanne Powell, whose very look would probably curdle the milk.
Jacqui replies that perhaps the builders might have some extra milk they could let Katie have.
Katie suggests that perhaps Jacqui should be taking things easy now, but Jacqui tells Katie that this particular morning, she had to get out of the house just to get away from Max. She got out on the wrong side of the bed and trod on Max.
Well, pursues Katie, nosily, for every bit of this conversation will be carried back with glee to Nisha, how did Jacqui feel about her pregnancy?
Shock, mostly, admits Jacqui.
Katie suggests that maybe she should view it as a happy accident. After all, Jacqui had no money worries, she adds cattily.
In an effort to change the prying subject, Jacqui snappishly asks Katie how her new job is going.
Katie replies that her new job is just what she needed, and she really wanted to show Dr Parr that she could do well in that capacity.
Jacqui reminds Katie of the milk she came to borrow, just as Jacqui notices one of the workmen ogling the two women. Jacqui points out to Katie that the nice-looking builder seemed to have an eye for Katie, but Katie brushes the suggestion aside, saying that she’s simply not interested. Jacqui offers to ask the builders for some extra milk.
Tim has managed to replaster the hole on the Corkhill side, although it’s not very neatly done. Looking at it worriedly, he tries to convince himself and Nikki and Jerome, who are surveying it, that it will look better when covered by the paint.
The trio are not convinced by this premise, and exchange looks that are distinctly low on confidence in Tim’s ability.
Jerome, however, is more concerned with Nikki’s stated intention to assume responsibility for Jimmy, once he’s released from hospital. Sitting in a chair nearby, he lackadaisically opines that if it’s the carer’s allowance that Nikki’s hoping to receive in assuming care for Jimmy, he wants her to know that the allowance is not much at all and, therefore, not worth it.
Glancing at his sister-in-law over his shoulder, Tim advises Nikki to give serious thought to taking Jimmy on as her responsibility. Sometimes Jimmy can be frightening.
Nikki smugly remarks that she can handle Jimmy.
‘Oh, yeah?’ Tim raises his eyebrows, sceptically at Nikki’s stated confidence in her ability. ‘He frightened you pretty good once, as I recall.’
Anyway, Tim continues, finishing up his plastering, right now, the hozzy is the best place for Jimmy. Everything he needs, regarding care, is right there at hand. After all, if he’s back here, anything could happen.
Nikki rants at Tim that he’s talking as though Jimmy were some chainsaw killer or something. (but can’t something happen like this to a sufferer in a manic phase?) If Jimmy needs medical help, she says, stubbornly, then she’ll send for it.
Tim warns Jerome again about allowing ‘his missus’ to get deeply involved with someone as unstable as Jimmy.
Jerome mumbles sullenly, as Tim prepares to leave, that Nikki’s not interested in anyone else’s opinions, least of all his.
When Tim has gone, Jerome admits to Nikki that he thinks Tim is right in this instance. With everything that’s going on in Nikki’s life, now that she’s about to add Jimmy to the equation, when will she have time for Jerome?
Nikki says determinedly that she’ll FIND time. (Er, pardon me, but haven’t we heard this argument in a different context the week before in another house across the Close with Max and Jacqui? Proof positive that Nikki is becoming Jacqui Dixon!!! And Jacqui is turning into Patricia Farnham!)
Jerome argues that Nikki still will have course work to complete, and she’ll probably be thinking about getting a part-time job as well. Now she’s talking about taking on the care of Jimmy as an added responsibility -
Nikki tries to emphasise to Jerome how important he is to her. Why, look at everything they’ve been through in the past. They’ve managed to sort their differences before; they’ll do it again.
However, to Jerome, she simply doesn’t sound convincing. He knows she won’t be swayed in her determination to undertake this. He reminds Nikki of the fact that he actually defended her attitude towards Jimmy in front of Tim and Emily.
Nikki replies that she thought he was sincerely behind her in her desire to do this.
Jerome coldly replies that he defended Nikki in order that she didn’t appear to look like a fool in front of Timily. Fact is, what Timily said made sense.
Tough, spits Nikki. Jimmy’s coming out of hospital and she’s determined to be his carer!
(What a sublimely arrogant, little bitch. I do hope TPTB plan to show that she’s out of her depth and not some psychological superwoman!)
Antony Murray sits alone in his room, a piece of writing paper and a pen in hand. As the camera pans onto the page of paper, we see Antony is attempting to write a letter to Mrs Clough, Imelda’s mother. In the background, we hear Marty calling his name. Antony doesn’t respond.
Suddenly, the door to his room opens and Marty’s head appears. Seeing the pen and paper, he automatically assumes that Antony’s doing homework. Marty’s made some of his famous chili for lunch, he announces. Is Antony hungry?
Antony nods, and when Marty disappears again, Ant tears up the letter.
Nisha the Naughty Nurse and poor, pitiful Katie have returned to the slatternly flat. Nisha remarks that she doesn’t know why she’s come upstairs at all, as she can only spare 10 minutes for lunch. Opening a cabinet, she finds an empty gin bottle. Showing it to Katie, Nisha remarks that this is what Sammy appears to be doing with her money - booze.
Katie clears her throat. She has a confession to make to Nisha. The empty bottle actually is one of Katie’s, an old one.
Nisha purses her lips in prim disapproval. That said, she’s still not convinced that Sammy’s off the booze.
Katie defends her sister, saying that Sammy’s had a hard time if late, with her marriage breaking up. Katie tries a dab hand at psychology too, reckoning that maybe Sammy feels that if she sleeps around, she’ll feel better. (So Brookside’s turning into the psych’s soap, is it? Rampant with little wannabe shrinks all in need of a good Frasier Crane, themselves! Spare me, please!)
Nisha bitchily comments that if she could only get inside Sammy’s head, she’d probably find plenty of room.
Katie tells her that NO ONE will EVER succeed in getting inside Sammy’s head. But Katie urges Nisha to try to understand Sammy’s problem. Up until recently, she’s been living a high life, jet-setting around the world, with a wealthy husband and servants at her beck and call. Now all of a sudden, she’s shacked up in a small flat with her younger sister and a mate.
Nisha remains unsympathetic. Sammy has to buckle down and accept reality - and responsibility for her daughter.
Katie assures Nisha that she will look after Louise, the Ratchild.
Dire has returned early from the Salon, surprise, surprise. Antony is just about to enter the lounge to partake of Marty’s chili, when she runs into him. Solicitously, she asks if he’s OK. Antony snaps back that she’s always asking him if he’s OK.
Suddenly, Big Dire notices the botched up hole in the wall, as Marty enters the sitcom lounge from the kitchen, wearing one of those awful plastic aprons that you only see characters on soap operas wear. He’s surprised to see Dire.
Dire explains that her last two appointments cancelled and she’d returned home early; besides, she’s still suffering from cramps and a headache. Must be something going around, she muses; she ran into Jacqui Farnham later and she’s not feeling well either. (Now wouldn’t Madam be a jealous cow, if she knew Jacqui’s real condition!) Anyway, she certainly hopes that Tim O’Leary’s not about to leave that sloppy work like that! And, by the way, had they heard anything more about Imelda?
Timily are preparing to begin their painting, while a nervous Nikki is left to worry about her last altercation with Jerome. She still feels that she has to explain her position to Timily and she wants to know why they are so against her taking care of Jimmy. She’s only trying to do something that’s inherently right, she wails, self-righteously, so why do Timily think it’s so wrong?
Tim answers tersely that Nikki hasn’t lived in that house for that great length of time with Jimmy. She hasn’t been around when Jimmy’s gone off on one, he says.
Emily sits down opposite her sister and succinctly explains to the older girl, who has less common sense than Emily, that she thinks Jimmy possibly has the hots for Nikki.
Nikki is disgusted with this theory. Why does everything have to come down to sex for Emily?
‘Becuz ‘e’s a MAN!’ Exclaims Emily.
Well, sniffs Nikki, with an insulted air, she happens to think that she and Jimmy actually have a lot in common.
Emily looks less than convinced at this statement, so Nikki elaborates in meaningless psycho-sociological babble. Jimmy, at the moment, she says, as a mentally ill person, is stigmatised, looked down upon by the rest of society. Many times, Dr Nikki explains, mentally ill people feel that they have only themselves to blame for their predicament, that it’s something that they’ve DONE that’s made them this way, when many times it’s really only a chemical imbalance.
So, asks the sceptical Emily, who hasn’t understood one iota of what Nikki’s been babbling (does Nikki?), why is Nikki involving herself in this situation?
Well, she was stigmatised too - as a rape victim, she explains, implausibly. She was only too aware of what some parts of society feel about rape victims - her dress was too short, too tight, maybe she egged him on, etc. (Er, maybe in the 1970’s, Nikki, but rape is handled a lot more sensitively now. This is text book sociology!)
So, she continues, most people class the mentally ill as loonies, and most people say that rape victims asked for it. (Oh, please!). The both are treated like telly programmes that can be flicked over and dismissed as someone else’s problem.
That’s just what Jimmy is, says Emily, coldly. He has an ex-wife and a daughter. Look at Jackie; she walked out on him, because she got fed up dealing with him, and Lindsey couldn’t get much further away. Emily is only concerned about Nikki possibly getting hurt in all this.
Nikki stubbornly maintains that she’s Jimmy’s friend and she owes him this much.
The Murrays huddle around the sitcom sofa, scoffing Marty’s chilli. Antony is only eating half-heartedly. Dire asks about Adele, who’s over at her friend Laura’s house.
Marty replies, between mouthfuls of chilli, that Adele was still talking about going to Ayia Napa, when everyone knew full well that she wasn’t going.
Dire suddenly muses about Imelda’s fate. She sincerely hopes the girl’s OK. She imagines that the bizzies in London have taken over the search for her down there.
Marty finds it hard to believe that Dire’s wasting sympathy on the plight of this girl. She certainly didn’t show any sort of sympathy toward Antony when she was tormenting him.
Dire witters about how Imelda’s mother must be worried sick. She’ll say a prayer for Imelda.
Suddenly, Antony bolts up, knocking over his chilli and darts from the room.
Marty is startled. What’s wrong with Antony? He demands.
It’s Imelda, Dire coos sympathetically. Even after everything he went through at Imelda’s hands, he’s still upset by her disappearance. (Sure, and he’s a saint now, that Antony Murray!)
Marty is simply disgusted. He can’t believe his hypocritical wife is sitting there prepared to dole out tea and sympathy for someone who’s caused her son so much abject misery. Well, he personally thinks that Imelda went too far in her torment of Antony, and she’s actually damaged the lad. She’s hurt him, and not by just a simple knock. She’s left her mark on the lad.
Nikki is just leaving Hotel Corkhill, when she runs into Jerome on the doorstep, who’s just returning. Nikki, avoiding Jerome’s accusatory stare, explains that she’s on her way out to find out some information on becoming a carer for Jimmy.
Jerome, his face like stone, asks if Nikki’s certain she’s thought this thing through. Has she actually thought about what her life day-in and day-out, caring for a person with a mental illness? Did she honestly think she could cope with that?
Nikki sarcastically replies that the one thing she failed to consider was that she would not be getting back-up from Jerome.
Jerome tells Nikki, equally sarcastically, that her compassion certainly does do her credit; but he reminds her that Jimmy’s own daughter couldn’t cope with him. How could Nikki expect to? She needs help. And has she talked any of these intentions over with Jessie? He’s certain Jess wouldn’t be so eager to see Nikki get involved in this situation?
Nikki remarks that not too long ago, Jerome didn’t have too high an opinion of her grandmother at all, and anyway, it was nothing to do with Jessie.
Jimmy needs professional help, Jerome points out, truthfully. He DOESN’T need an idealistic do-gooder with half a psych degree under her belt.
Nikki then accuses Jerome of feeling threatened in their relationship by Jimmy Corkhill. Why, if Jimmy were a woman for whom Nikki wanted to care, it would be a different story entirely.
Jerome laughs mirthlessly at Nikki’s naive arrogance. She’s read a couple of psychology textbooks and she thinks she’s an expert in the field. Well, he’d been doing some thinking this morning, and in order to give Jimmy and Nikki more space, he’d decided to move out.
Nikki is momentarily gob-smacked. (The rest of us heave a great sigh of relief at the prospect of Jerome, a worthless character at best, leaving. So long, Buckwheat!)
By now Jacqui Farnham’s returned home and sits on the sofa in the Farnham living room with Max, who’s concerned at his wife’s state of mind. He asks her what’s wrong, and Jacqui tells him that she’s incredibly down.
Max wonders if she didn’t feel this way in the early days of her pregnancy with Harry, and Jacqui replies that it IS probably a hormonal reaction, but her depression is different from the baby blues she felt when she was carrying Harry. With Harry, she explains, she knew that she was doing the right thing at the right time. Now she’s confused and worried about whether she’s simply feeling selfish.
Max admits that he wanted children from this relationship too - and at the right time. And maybe this unexpected event hadn’t made things easier for them at this time. But, he reminds her, in seven months’ time, the extension to the house would be completed and there would be plenty of room for another little Farnham, Jacqui would have her creche at the Health Centre up and running ... Max further admits that, whilst he was unsure at first, he’d given it some thought and now he feels that he really wants this baby. It would be like a symbol for the love he and Jacqui felt for each other and show everyone who were sceptical about them as a couple that their relationship was sincere. This can work, Max says, persuasively. Together, they could MAKE it work.
Max takes Jacqui in his arms and holds her, and Jacqui clings to him desperately, as if for her very life.
Tom Higgins wrote this. Marginally better than Wednesday’s, but nowhere
near the epitome of last week’s episodes.
Summary © 2002 Marion Watts
Brookside and all related materials are © Mersey Television 1982-2002