BROOKSIDE OR BACKSIDE?
After weeks of justifiably complaining about the near-pornographic scenes emanating from Brookside well before the watershed hour, TPTB at Brookside have finally deigned to supply its viewing public with a reply to our criticism.
Pah!
It was the biggest spin I’d seen since buying a Dyson washing machine. First of all, the apology offered regarding the tastelessness of the scenes was cursory, to say the least. We are asked to believe that Brookside, which identifies itself as a family show to such an extent that mention of Tony Hancock on the Official Forum reads ‘Tony Hanc**k, actively admits to its viewers that the reasoning behind the screening of Max and Jacqui copulating in a hospital examining room is a symbolic ‘journey of discouvery’ (a la Truffaut, Bergman or Bunuel) and that one of Brookside’s recurrent themes is to be an exploration of sexuality in marriage.
So what does this mean?
Max and Jax looking for more public places in which to copulate? Marty and Dire practicing cross-dressing and sado-masochistic role-play? Jimmy watching Helen and Nikki get off with each other before indulging in a threesome - wait a minute, the threesome might be Ron, Ray and Jessie! Wife-swapping with the Parrs?
The mind boggles.
Another recurrent theme on Brookside seems to be the fascination with the naked male arse. We’ve seen all types, colours and varieties - from Tim’s firm, young buttocks (which resemble two coffee grounds on a sheet of cardboard) to Max’s dimply cellulite, and now we’re about to witness Ron’s hairy bum.
I wonder, yet, if most of the Brookside writing/production crew is past the Freudian anal stage of psychological development.
Call for Dr Nikki!!! Quick!
Hang on ... Maybe Brookside should be re-christened ‘Dr Nikki’s Casebook’?
The episode opens with the ubiquitous series of quick takes.
It’s early morning ...
Jacqui lies awake and bewildered in a hospital room (ever notice how in soaps EVERYONE has a private room? NO ONE is ever on a ward.) Max sits beside the bed, his head resting on the space beside Jacqui. She sees him there, but as the camera pans backward, we also see that Max is awake and with a look as desolate as Jacqui’s on his face.
Sammy sits alone in the early morning at NNT. Even though it’s daybreak, she’s nursing a drink and gazing sadly at a snapshot taken of her with Louise.
Outside Hotel Corkhill, Tim’s white van, parked in the driveway, shudders furiously from the weight of the pig within.
Next door, Antony Murray lies, sleeping fitfully in his bed. He’s having nightmares again, dreaming of himself standing beside the pond where Imelda met her end.
Back at the hospital, Max finally stirs and sits up to find his wife awake. Jacqui’s lying on her side, a near impossible feat, for reasons shortly to be explained. She whispers a question to Max. What happened? She wants to know. She passed out and the next thing she knows, she’s awake in a hospital room and Max is there.
Max gently explains that she had to have an emergency operation, or else she would have died.
Jacqui is astounded. She didn’t think anything was wrong. She had a few small pains, she says, almost dismissively. Finally, she gets around to asking how the baby is.
Max explains that Jacqui had an ectopic pregnancy, where the baby was conceived and was growning outside the womb. She’s lost an ovary and one of her Falloppian tubes.
Then, asks Jacqui, hesitantly, there’s no baby now ...
Max sadly shakes his head.
(Hang on, hang on. I’m a dab hand at ectopics here, myself, and Jacqui looks a bit too pristine to be awakening post-op in a hospital bed. Where’s the drip, I ask. (NO, not Max, sitting beside her, but the IV drip). And, I can personally say, that a few hours AFTER such major abdominal surgery, you are NOT able to shift yourself over to your side - for a start, you’ve got a tube draining serous fluid from your wound. Brookside striving for realism? My arse!)
At Hotel Corkhill, Tim is preparing breakfast for the pig - no, not Emily, the real pig, outside in the van. Jimmy passes by, remarking on the noise emanating from the van outside. That pig, he announces, is driving him bananas.
He’s hungry, replies Tim, chirpily, and Tim’s just finished getting his breakfast of spoiled food and leftovers ready. Jokingly, Tim shoves the tray of delectables under Jimmy’s prissy nose.
Jim pushes the stuff away, as Tim asks him what he’s doing up so early.
Research, Jimmy replies, cryptically, on the Net. About diet and his condition. But Jimmy was getting no peace from the pig noise. Roughly, he tells Tim to get shot of that animal.
Outside Jacqui’s private hospital room, Ron and poor, pitiful Katie sit. In fact, they’ve been sitting there all night, pointedly ignoring each other. Ron, being Jacqui’s father, has every right to be there. Katie, who’s spent the better part of a year openly slagging Jacqui off to all and sundry, has no right whatsoever.
Attempting to break the hate-encrusted ice that’s existed between them for most of the past year, Ron tentatively asks Katie if she’s all right. Katie ignores him, staring straight in front of her. (Hint to Brookside production team: You really SHOULD try to avoid shooting Diane Burke in profile. Her ski-jump nose makes one think of Nixon).
Ron asks, solicitously, if Katie wants some tea.
Katie snaps that she’ll get her own.
Ignoring the fact that he’s being ignored, Ron continues to speak, saying something that’s obviously been preying on his mind for most of the night. That nurse at the medical centre, Katie’s mate, he says, knew that Jacqueline was pregnant. And Katie knew it too, he adds, accusingly. Why wasn’t Ron told? He asks.
The simpering, bitter bitch refuses to answer.
Was it because Jacqui knew the baby might be in danger?
No response from the wooden Indian.
Ron begins to plead with her, but the sadistic, twisted sadsack maintains her silence.
Meanwhile, at the Dixons’, Rachel is getting breakfast for Harry, Emma and Beth. Mike returns from his night shift, still complaining of a toothache. Rachel is concerned and asks him why he doesn’t contact the dentist, but Mike is obstinate, saying that they couldn’t afford the dentist. Besides, he asks, is there any news on Jacqui?
Oooh, says Rachel, Ron pho-aned’n said Jac-keh doon had op’RAYshoon.
When Mike disappears upstairs, Rachel peruses the junk mail that’s arrived. Rachel is particularly intrigued from one, offering a loan and £2000 instant cash.
And now it’s time for the Brookside sitcom!!! Sitcom House at breakfast. The Murrays, minus Dire, gather. Adele is having another mega moan at Marty. She’s now demanding to know why she can’t have some mates around for the evening.
Like this new boyfriend? Questions Plank. And anyway, what’s this bloke’s name?
Gareth, snaps Adele, before turning on Marty with a whinge about her mates again.
Marty tells her to shut it. Her parents allowed her to continue with her contact lenses, didn’t they?
Hmph! Snorts Adele. After SHE paid for them, and she had no choice but to do so.
Only because of this Gareth, comments Plank, and wants to know if Marty knows what Gareth is like.
Between fielding questions and moans, Marty remarks that he doesn’t know if Gareth had two heads and webbed feet.
Well, continues Plank, when was the family going to meet him?
Never, if her dad has his way, replies Adele, sarcastically.
Marty suddenly retorts that he has no objection to Adele having some of her mates around for an evening. Adele’s liver lips quiver angrily. He was ALWAYS doing that, she storms.
Doing what? Marty asks, innocently.
Saying one thing and then changing his mind, explains Adele, in frustration. He did the same thing with her contact lenses.
At that moment, Marty notices Ant rising and sloping off toward the door from the table. Where’s Ant off to?
Ant replies that he’s going to school.
Suddenly, his father and his siblings start badgering him with infinitely cloying, over-solicitous questions about school.
Is Ant sure he doesn’t want one of them to come with him? How ARE things at school? Has everything settled down?
Antony beats a hasty retreat from that rogues’ gallery.
Mike Dixon has arrived at the hospital and encounters his father and Katie Rogers sitting in the hall. What’s wrong with Jacqui? Mike asks. What happened?
She’s had a miscarriage, replies Katie, shortly. Lost the baby.
Oh, bad luck, says Mike, disappointed. Rachel will be upset.
Oh, remarks Ron, with sarcasm. Mike AND Rachel knew, did they?
Well, er - Rachel found out by accident, Mike explains, erratically, and she told him.
Once again, Ron moans, it seems everyone knew about this baby but Ron.
At that moment, Max pops his head around the door to say that Jacqui is awake.
As the Murray bandwagon have now progressed to the sitcom lounge, Adele checks once again with Marty if it’s all right to have her mates around that evening.
Bemused, Marty agrees, whilst Plank, passing through, comments that he can’t wait to see Gareth.
Oh, no, says Adele, adamantly. She doesn’t want Plank anywhere NEAR the house that night. He can just go out.
Awaiting the influx of visitors, Max tells Jacqui that Ron, Katie and Mike were outside. In fact, he says, Ron and Katie had been there all night long, ignoring each other.
Oh, Jacqui suddenly comes to life with the mention of Katie’s name, showing the first interest in people she’s shown all morning. Did Max mean to tell her that Katie’s been there all night? Well, why didn’t Max say something, sorry, somethink, and have her come into the room?
Mike and Ron enter and awkwardly greet Jacqui. Mike expresses sympathy for Jacqui’s loss, saying that Rachel would be gutted to learn that she’d lost the baby.
Ignoring all tact, Ron demands to know why everyone else knew about Jacqui’s pregnancy and he didn’t.
Max and Jacqui start to speak at once, offering the lame excuse about wanting to wait 12 weeks before telling everyone.
Jacqui suddenly asks about the Farnham children. Mike answers and says that Rachel’s told them that their mummy and daddy were busy working this week, so they had to stay with Granddad; but Ron continues to badger the couple about not being told about the pregnancy, and about the pregnancy in general. How on earth could Max allow this to happen?
Max and Jacqui exchange fish-eyed looks, as Ron continues. Just what was Max Farnham playing at? He demands. How many women was that that he’d manage to knock up?
Mike and Jacqui try to shush Ron, but he continues, unabated. Would Max never learn? There was his young wife, collapsed in the street, unconscious, and where was Max?
More calls for Ron to be quiet are ignored.
‘I’ll tell yer where he was,’ Ron cries. ‘Off at some governors’ meeting, with that DOCTOR’S wife, acting like he’s still twenty-five! Why, if Max were the perfect husband -’
And if RON were the perfect father, Max interrupts, angrily, he’d realise that, in Jacqui’s current condition, she didn’t need any of this stress.
Mike pulls Ron toward the door of the room, apologising and telling Jacqui he’d see her later. Jacqui calls to Ron that she would see him the next day.
‘Too right,’ says Ron, stridently.
After the slew have gone, Max and Jacqui exchange concerned looks.
Back on the Close, Tim and Plank check on the pig in the van. As Tim shuts the door, he mumbles that he swore he’d never work with that bleurt Christy Murray again, but needs must. Plank says it’s a shame the pig has to be despatched. Plank thinks he’s kind of cute.
That’s the only reason they have to contact Christy, says Tim. He worked in a slaughterhouse. He knows how to do these things.
As Ron and Mike re-enter the hospital corridor, Ron approaches Katie and thanks her for staying with him the evening before. It meant a lot to him.
Katie’s piggy eyes narrow and her brows knit together furiously. What the hell is he talking about?
(I must admit, I was taken aback by this scene - especially considering the previous scene in the hallway between Ron and Katie - the patent refusal to communicate on Katie’s part. It was almost as if this scene were written by a completely different writer, as though someone had had an afterthought and thought this scene needed to be inserted to emphasise Ron’s callous self-centredness. It was baffling, to say the least).
Why, Ron’s referring to Katie staying the night outside in the hospital corridor with him.
Katie assures him, bluntly, that she didn’t stay for his benefit.
But, why DID Katie stay? Asks Ron, ignorantly.
‘Because I loov Jacqui more than I hate you,’ replies the miserable, unwashed bitch, succinctly.
As Tim and Plank lean against the van, waiting for Christy’s arrival, Tim greedily contemplates the amount of money to be earned from the despatch of the pig. Why, just think of all the things that come from a pig - liver, bacon, chops - nothing goes to waste on a pig, continues Tim. Plenty of money to earn there!
Christy pulls up in his van and briefly greets Tim and Plank. Well, where’s this pig, he demands and how much did Tim want for him?
Fifty quid, says Tim, and the pig’s in the back of the van.
Without another word, Christy opens the back of the van, looks briefly inside, and shakes his head. Turning to face Tim, he informs him that rather than Christy paying Tim £50, it should be the other way around. Tim should be paying Christy £50 to get rid of the pig.
Tim and Plank exchange looks of consternation. They can’t understand Christy’s reluctance to take the pig.
It’s a cuny-cuny pig, explains Christy, kept solely as a pet. No meat on him, per se. Christy then suggests Tim pay him £30, and he would take the pig for pet food.
Again, Tim and Plank look at each other with distaste.
Well, demands Christy, he hasn’t got all day. What do they want him to do?
The lads remain wordless.
Look, Christy suggests again. He could do the job right then and there. He’d need a hammer, however.
A hammer? Stammers Plank.
Sure, says Christy. Couple of blows between the eyes ought to do it. Of course, he’d then need a plastic sheet and a saw in order to cut it up.
Tim suddenly objects, telling Christy that he’d sort the pig.
Oooh, comments Christy, sarcastically. What is this? Protesting violence against animals now?
Tim reiterates that he would sort the pig.
‘Suit yourself,’ quips Christy, leaving.
Plank turns to Tim as Christy drives off. What are they going to do with the pig? He asks.
Why, get rid of it somewhere, replies Tim, dumbly walking away.
‘But where?’ Mumbles Plank, as his partner moves away.
Back at NNT, Nisha informs Sammy of the fact that Jacqui was pregnant and had suffered an ectopic pregnancy.
Poor Jacqui, mouths Sammy, oddly sincere.
Yes, agrees Nisha. It could have been fatal.
Sammy prepares to go to work, telling Nisha she’s got some extra hours to put in, as she has to take a couple of days off to go to London. She’s going to have a talk with Richard and Louise and find out what LOUISE wants to do.
Nisha raises the ubiquitous eyebrows. Does Sammy mean that she’s going to allow a ten year-old to decide her own educational fate?
Sammy piously replies that she wants what’s best for her daughter. If Louise wants to go back to her old school, and Richard wants to pay for her to do so, then that’s all right with Sammy.
Hmm, ponders Nisha, does this mean the end of Sammy slagging off Richard?
Tim’s white van is parked in a wooded spot that looks oddly familiar. A dog passes the back of the van and stops briefly, attracted by the scent of pig wafting from within.
The camera pans over a wooded expanse, and rests by the side of ... YES! You guessed it! THE POND. Tim and Plank stand, with the pig on a lead, next to the water. Tim’s suddenly worried about what the pig will find to eat here in this place? (Imelda! What else?)
Plank looks about ignorantly and says that the pig will probably dig up stuff.
That’s right, says Tim, trying to convince himself. He’s got a lovely pond and mud to wallow in. Anyway, pigs are natural survivors. They fondly tell the pig good-bye, but the pig tries to follow them. Tim dissuades him, and reckons that the next time they encounter the pig, he’d be lots bigger.
Suddenly, they hear a dog barking in the distance and scarper, leaving the pig.
Alone, the pig stands about for a bit and approaches the pond, rooting around the edges. In the distance, we see a man walking his dog off the lead. The dog spies the pig and dashes toward him, barking. The pig turns and waddles off in the opposite direction.
The dog’s owner calls the mutt, who ambles back in his direction. However, passing the edge of the pond, the animal stops and sniffs the ground, suspiciously.
As the dog capers off with its owner, the camera lingers on the pond ... WHICH IS SHALLOW!!! YOU CAN ACTUALLY SEE THE BOTTOM OF THE POND. IT’S THAT SMALL AND THERE’S NOTHING THERE!!! EXPLAIN THAT, BROOKSIDE!!!
Later in the day, Adele is applying lipstick to her liver lips, whilst Loopy Laura, with her hair curled and looking like a poodle, applies eye make-up. Adele announces that she’s ready, and Laura wonders if the Murrays are ready for Gareth.
(This is supposed to be funny. All together now ... ONE ... TWO ... THREE ...HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!)
At the Dixons’, Ron’s just fielded a telephone call. That, he announces, was Mrs Coates, one of his ex-Great Grannies’ clients. She’s desperate for a cleaner and came directly too Great Grannies. Maybe all is not lost, he wonders. Mike continues to moan about his tooth, but maintains that he and Rachel couldn’t afford to attend a dentist.
(OK, OK ... Rant time again. Sorry, but there ARE still dentists about who WILL accept National Health patients. There are. I know there are, because I moved my family from a practice which went private to a high street practice who specialises in NHS treatment. And besides, why CAN’T Mike and Rachel afford dental treatment? They pay £20 per month in their debt arrangement, they pay NO rent and - more than likely - are now living off Ray and Jessie’s grocery shopping. Mike’s earning a wage, and Jacqui pays Rachel - cash in hand, no tax. So, why can’t they afford something like this? And anyway, if they have that low a wage income, there ARE such a thing as benefits, and the dentist would be the first to ask if the couple were on benefits and make allowances accordingly. Or, is Brookside encouraging the scrounger mentality in society? Discuss, please).
Jimmy’s sitting awkwardly alone in the bar. Helen is obviously late. Bev passes by and asks sarcastically if Jimmy’s going to sit there all night. He’s booted and suited and looking suspicious.
Jimmy tells her to bug off, he’s waiting for someone.
Mike and Rachel radge Ron about Mrs Coates’s request for a cleaner. Ron must have really worked the charm on her. Ron replies that Mrs Coates is an 81 year-old widow. As a matter of fact, the one thing Mrs Coates expressly said she missed, was the nice way Great Grannies did her ironing.
Funny, she should say that, Ron remarks, as Ron was thinking of relaunching Great Grannies as an ironing business.
Mike thinks that’s a good idea, but Ron tells him that Ron will need to get a bank loan, first.
Well, get one, encourages Mike.
Ron won’t commit himself, saying merely that he would think about it.
Someone’s standing over Jimmy’s table again, as he’s lost in a study of nutrition. Distracted and thinking the person to be Bev, he growls, ‘What now?’, before looking up and seeing Helen. He immediately apologises, saying he was miles away. Studying.
Er, what was he studying? Helen asks.
Nutrition, replies Jimmy, showing her the pamphlet, the effect of vitamins on the body. Rising, he politely asks Helen if she’d like a drink, and she orders a white wine.
Sammy has returned, exhausted, from her day at the Health Centre. It was mad at work without Jacqui, she says, breathlessly. What a shock! She continues to Katie. No one there had a clue she was pregnant.
Katie replies that she wasn’t sure how much Jacqui wanted this baby, but she doesn’t know how Jacqui’s feeling now.
Sammy tells Katie about her plans to go to London to speak with Louise and Richard. Actually, this is the third time - the second in this episode - that we’ve gone over this money for old rope. Katie says she misses Louise and was just getting into playing auntie to her, but she understands if Sammy thinks it’s for the best that Louise return to her old school.
Suddenly, Nisha enters and plops a huge bottle of bubbly onto the counter. Another DRINKS sesh. Why? She passed her exams, she announces, and she’s now (in her own words) a fully-licenced drug dealer.
(Again, this is supposed to be witty. I ask you, do you like hearing a nurse speak like this? Not only is is disrespectful, it’s downright stupid, considering the drugs problem prevalent in this country now. Again, Brookside is lax and it comes across as being contumacious. And, the NHS is bad enough without the Naughty Nurse being given even MORE responsibility!!!)
Ron’s now meandered over to the bar, and stands at the actual bar, chatting to Bev. Bev’s shocked about Jacqui too, saying that she never realised that Jacqui was pregnant. Ron tells her that he wasn’t told either, and as Bev bends over (and Brookside are having her bend over many times in the bar these days), Ron eyes her arse, lasciviously.
Whilst all this is progressing, Jimmy and Helen sit chatting at their table. Jimmy’s telling Helen that he and Jackie were married 27 years (THEY WERE NOT!!! THEY WERE MARRIED 30 YEARS!), and he didn’t miss her in the least. He felt as though he were never married.
So, Helen asks, Jimmy doesn’t miss his ex?
In true psychologist fashion, Jimmy asks if Helen misses her ex-husband?
Sometimes, she admits, she does miss him
Jimmy asks why she and her husband broke up, but Helen deftly deflects the question by stating that she wants to enjoy the evening and not rake over events of the past.
Jimmy then, shyly, asks if the two of them could be ‘mates’ without all the romance involved of a man-woman friendship. Helen agrees, and then Jimmy changes the subject and starts talking about genealogical websites.
Ron stands at the bar, still chatting with Bev. Poor Jacqueline, he wails, she lost that baby because she spent most of her time running a house and then flogging herself to death over this bar (which is up, running and successful again in a remarkably short time).
Er, sorry, beg pardon and all, corrects Bev, abruptly, but it’s actually BEV who’s flogging her guts out in the bar. Not only that, she wails, but half her bloomin’ wages go on child care. (What? Bev’s the manager of the bar, for Christ’s sake!!! That, surely, merits a good wage. Or are childminders highway robbers in Liverpool, home of the scally scam?) She enjoys a right royal whinge about the deficiencies of her present child-minder, who had cried off duty this evening. Not only that, she continues, but the After School Club had barred Josh. Said he was a ‘disruptive influence’.
Ron immediately offers to babysit Josh during the evening, and for no pay.
Bev is immediately suspicious. Ron may not want monetary stipend, she says, but she expects he’ll want paying of SOME sort.
Ron swears he won’t want paying of any kind; besides, it will give him a chance to get out of Number 8.
Bev is prettily grateful, so grateful that she serves Ron a drink on the house - or rather, on Jacqui, she corrects herself.
Bev bends over again, gratuitously for something, and Ron eyes her arse again.
Marty Murray rounds the corner onto the Close and hears strange, loud music emanating from his house. As he comes into view, he sees a tall lad opening the front door, saying he was going out to collect the pizza. The lad steps onto the doorstep as Marty arrives and blocks Marty’s entrance, telling Marty that he couldn’t come in. This was a private party.
Outraged, Marty pushes past the lad, explaining roughly that this was his house. The lad cries out, trying to stop Marty, but Adele greets her father, as does Loopy Laura with her poodle-do on her head. Marty lamely and angrily surveys the wall-to-wall ‘yoof’ lining every room in the downstairs of his house. A full-scale party.
Not really, says Liverlips, blandly. Just a few friends. Oh, and she wants her father to meet Gareth.
In the foreground of the scene, we see a par of jean-clad legs, crossed from the knee down. Gareth. Adele calls out to him to come meet her dad, and the lad stands up. He looks, quite honestly, like Lurch from the Addams Family, and he’s just as tall.
Marty is momentarily gob-smacked by the lad’s size, but suddenly, his attention is drawn to the fact that several of the kids present are openly drinking brew from a can. He sternly turns to Adele to remark on this. Well, she replies, eyes wide with contacts and innocence, SHE wasn’t drinking anything.
Neither ... was ... she, says Laura, helpfully.
Marty wants to know Ant’s whereabouts. Adele replies that he’s upstairs. Has he eaten? Asls Marty. Adele replies that Ant didn’t want anything to eat.
Marty is hungry, howver, and he knows that Dire left him a casserole in the oven.
Er, well ... hesitates Adele, looking at the overflowing rubbish bin, where the remains of Marty’s casserole are prominently displayed, Gareth was a bit peckish.
Marty tells Adele that he’s going out for some chips, and the people she’s invited over had to be out by 10PM.
Antony sits upstairs alone, listening to the drone of noise from below.
Rachel rifles through the pile of junk post lying by the telephone. She finds the one addressed to her, advertising the fact that she could have £2000 to spend within minutes. Desperate, she dials the noomber. A man’s voice answers, identifying a finance company.
Oooh, witters Rachel, suddenly. Oooh, wrong noomber. She slams the phone down, and rips up the brochure.
Marty enters Ant’s room to find the lad alone. He announces that he’s off to the chippy and asks if Ant wants to come along. Dire had fixed him some proper tucker, but Adele and Gareth’s mates had eaten the lot.
Antony listlessly says he’s not hungry.
Marty’s worried. Ant’s not sickening for anything, is he?
No, confirms Ant. Just not hungry.
That’s good, says Marty. Because he spoke with Mrs Plummer earlier that day, and she told him that Ant was settling down really nicely after the science lab incident. Is Ant sure he doesn’t want anything to eat?
(Christ, don’t you want to scream, NO, GODDAMNIT!)
But Ant makes no reply, and Marty says he’ll get some extra chips, just in case.
Back at the bar, Helen is excusing herself. She’s really got to get home, as she left a neighbour watching Stephanie. Jimmy makes some inconsequential remark about Emily cooking something for him.
Helen cheerily suggests that the two meet up again, this time for a meal, she says.
In a totally incongruous line that shows how desperately inadequate the writing in this programme is, Jimmy agrees, but only, he stipulates, if Helen drinks the same as he drinks - and he holds aloft his glass of orange juice.
Helen hesitates a moment, upon seeing the orange juice. Delicately she begins, not wanting to pry, but intimates if that’s the reason Jimmy’s marriage broke up - the fact that he’s a recovering alcoholic?
Jimmy begins to stutter and flap. ‘Drink? Me? I don’t have a problem with drink. Never have. All me life.’
Helen, embarrassed, tries to backtrack. She didn’t mean to pry, she says, she just wants to keep things light between them.
Anyway, she takes her leave of him, she’ll be in touch. And she kisses him affectionately on the cheek.
As she walks away, Jimmy’s face assumes that smug, know-it-all look he wore for much of the Jackie-baiting storyline.
Night descends on the hospital. Jacqui, wearing her ‘Susan-Tully-big-eyed-emotive-feel-sorry-for-me’ look, caresses Maxim’s hair as he sleeps with his head on her lap.
Meanwhile, at Sitcom House, Antony is having a nightmare. He twitches and grunts in his sleep, and we are allowed to see his dream (because we are patently too stupid to imagine that he’s still suffering from the Imelda escapade). Ant stands by the side of the pond. Suddenly from behind a tree on the other side (symbolic, get it? The dead appearing from the other side - River Styx, River Jordan and all that?), Imelda, her wet hair plastered to her skull, steps from behind a tree. She laughs eerily at the nervous Ant.
Suddenly awake, the lad sits upright in bed, panting furiously.
Barry Woodward wrote this. Eleven pages to relate that nothing happened of any interest.
Summary © 2002 Marion Watts
Brookside and all related materials are © Mersey Television 1982-2002