DESPERADOS
That’s what this episode of Brookie concerned, but not in the Western sense. Consider the word ‘desperado’. To the untrained, it simply means a mean, ornery lowlife. But it’s really a bastardised English version of the Spanish word desesperado, which means a person without hope, one who is desperate, not bad, mean or ornery, but one in the throes of desperation.
And this is the theme which Brookside hoped to portray in this episode. It was a nice try, but it didn’t quite succeed. Still, the essence of a theme was present, so I suppose that does give someone reason for hope, or esperanza, as the Spanish would say.
See ... It pays to know a foreign language, but you have to master your own first.
How are the ‘pree limbs’ going, kirsty?
Dire Murray, a REAL desesperada stands nosily at Sitcom House’s front window, watching through the glass as Max Farnham brings his wife home from hospital. She watches wordlessly, as Jacqui, amazingly limber and upright for one who’s just had major abdominal surgery, followed by Max, enters Chateau Farnham. Dire clutches a small, slender parcel anxiously in her hands as she watches Jacqui. Is it a tampon or a pregnancy test? Hmmmm ...
Next door to Sitcom House lies Hotel Corkhill, and inside Hotel Corkhill, lies the resident Sage of the Close, Jimmy Corkhill, recumbent on his sofa, reading. Jimmy takes a break to think and rests his reading matter on his chest. We are allowed to see the title of the spiral-backed tome, The Stigma of Mental Illness. (Yawn).
As Jacqui and Max enter their home, however, Madam Farnham begins a plea for pity. She’s feeling guilty, she confesses to Max (and to us for about the fifth time. Enough already!) She can’t help thinking that the ectopic pregnancy was all her fault.
Max assures her that it wasn’t, by any means, her fault. Sometimes, he explains, gently, some things happen for the best -
Yes, wails Jacqui, she didn’t want the baby and look how she’s being punished.
Max shushes her, like a good husband, and assures her again, that her next pregnancy would be when she was definitely ready for a baby.
Jacqui’s face crumples. She’s not at all sure that there’ll be a next time after this.
(Poppycock! - And I can say that freely here - Did Jacqui have her remaining tube tested before leaving hospital? It’s a standard procedure after an ectopic, even on the - dare I say it? - National Health! If she had and if it were clear, she would know now that her chances of conceiving another child were very good indeed.)
Next we’re treated to the unsavoury sight of the sitcom en suite bathroom, where Dire Murray sits, pensively. We now see that the slender object, held so desperately in her hands, is - in fact - a home pregnancy test. (Surprise, surprise). The look of disappointment on Dire’s face says it all. She can add tampons to her next shopping list.
Over at NNT, it’s not a very hygenic sight, which enforces the conceived perception that nurses are often the filthiest of people. The place is a tip. Nisha and poor, pitiful Katie enter the place, glance around in dismay and - instead of starting to clean - flop their lazy arses onto the sofa and begin to moan and whinge.
Nisha declares that they are in need of a cleaner. There were three women living in the flat, all working full-time (ha! Sorry, I have to laugh - HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA - working at what? Working at being pains in the arse). There is simply no way they could cope with their strenuous, full-time jobs AND be expected to keep a spacious three or four-bedroom flat (depending on who’s writing the episode) clean and spotless. Besides, Nisha continues, pointing to a pile of clothing dumped unceremoniously against the far wall, THAT lot is Sammy’s. She’s the worst offender.
Katie objects to the plan of getting a cleaner in. THAT would mean having a stranger in their home each day. They don’t need a cleaner. If she has to, Katie would take responsibility for that chore. After all, her mum worked full-time and had three kids and managed to keep the house clean (until she scarpered).
They couldn’t cope, argues Nisha, and they wouldn’t cope. They simply need a cleaner, she reiterates. Besides, when your tap leaks and you need a plumber, you call a professional; so, why not do the same with cleaning the flat? They’d tried everything, including rotas, and nothing would induce Sammy to lift a hand to keep the place tidy.
(Boy, do I want to move to Liverpool, if plebs like Katie and Nisha can afford cleaners, and that’s speaking as someone who works full-time, has three kids AND manages to keep a house clean and tidy. Cleaners this end of the country drive Mercs).
Back at Number 8, Jessie is bustling about, tidying the place, as Helen is due to visit. Jessie asks if Ray thinks Helen will stay for dinner, but Ray’s distracted. He keeps glancing out the window in the direction of Hotel Corkhill. He’s more concerned with the amount of time Helen seems to be spending with Jimmy.
Jessie pauses long enough in her tasks to warn Ray not to go interfering in Helen’s relationship with Jimmy. But, Ray argues, it concerns him that Jimmy’s not come clean with Helen about his past mental health history. (More important, has Jimmy come clean with Helen about ANY of his history? The only information Helen is receiving is JIMMY’S interpretation of events. Ray is right to show concern).
At that moment, Ron enters the room, nearly tripping over and bumping into Ray. Ron’s not in the best of moods and chastises Ray for having fixed a Dixon household utensil. Pointing to a pile of junk post just arrived, Ron tells Ray off and says Ray would be more useful to Ron if Ray would spend some time re-posting the junk mail, instead of fixing things - the way he FIXED the wallpaper, Ron remarks, indicating the mix-matched odd ends with which Ray had papered the Dixon lounge.
Jessie trots in from the kitchen to ask Ron if he’s had any news on Jacqui. Ron informs her that Jacqui’s due home today, and Jess tells Ron that she’s saved him some lunch.
Ron demurs, but Jessie insists that Ron eat something. Then Ray tries to enlist Ron’s support regarding his opinion of Helen seeing Jimmy. He tries to explain to Ron that Helen’s his daughter, even though he didn’t have much to do with her for forty years; he feels even more obliged to look out for her interests now. Ron would understand, Ray persists. Surely, Ron knows how it is with a man when he has a daughter.
Ron shakes his head, sadly. It never stops, he tells Ray.
Next door at Chateau Farnham, Max tells Jacqui that he’s left the kids with Rachel and he’s planning on staying home with her. Jacqui, however, insists that Max go to work as planned. Honestly, she says, she’ll be fine on her own. After all, Max only worked 10 minutes away and her dad was right next door.
Max sees Jacqui’s still troubled. He tries to allay her worries by telling her NOT to dwell on what she’d said before about feeling that the ectopic pregnancy and miscarriage were her fault.
Jacqui listens to what Max says, but then confesses that she feels as though the ectopic were a type of judgment against her, for not wanting the baby.
Again, Max insists that this wasn’t the right time for this pregnancy and the ectopic was Nature’s way of telling them that.
Jacqui reminds Max that when he learned that she was pregnant, he was adamant that this was the right time. How could it be the right time one minute and the wrong time the next? She feels guilty, she confesses. She didn’t want the baby because SHE thought that it wasn’t the right time. Who is she to determine that? She didn’t want the child and now she was going to pay for that unwant by being unable to have another child.
Max dismisses her fears. Jacqui WILL get pregnant again, he assures her. And when she DOES get pregnant, it will be the right time.
Jacqui shakes her head, with a look of worried concern on her face. She feels that she had her chance and she simply wished it away.
Over at Sitcom House, Marty and Dire are having a chat, remarking on the change in Ant’s attitude recently. Marty tells Dire that it’s because Antony knows of the alleged sighting of Imelda by the police in London. Marty says that he learned of this from some of the teachers talking at school. There was a reported sighting of her in London.
(This is too vague and unreal. If the kid were sighted in London and by a policeman, why wasn’t she approached and identification obtained? In real life, this would have been established).
Thousands of people go missing every year, Marty says. Imelda is one of them. Ah, Dire says, but Imelda was different. Sure, loads of people go missing, but not that many children, and someone would notice a child.
Marty says he’s heard from the teachers that the police also had a sighting of her on videotape.
Dire can’t help but worry. A twelve year-old child on her own and without money in London, she witters. Why, any pervert could have picked her up. And trying to find her in London would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack.
(Sorry, I have to say something here. I know Brookside doesn’t legislate real-life events; but in view of the fact that Amanda Dowler’s disappearance has dominated news reports for five weeks, I think Brookside should make a tactful effort - IF they intend to run this story on and on, which is obvious that they do - they should back-burner it a bit, out of tact and respect for the Dowlers, if nothing else).
Jimmy is working on the front door of Hotel Corkhill, as Dr Nikki prepares to go on her rounds. Jimmy’s feeling his oats today and is in a good mood. Nikki remarks on his attitude.
Isn’t it amazing? Jim says, expansively. Why, just two years ago, Jimmy was on his knees. He had nowhere to go and no one to whom to go. He was, he says, at the end of the road. As he’s been working on this door, he tells Dr Nikki, he’s been taking stock, mentally, of the past two years.
Dr Nikki gazes admiringly at her patient. She uses Jimmy as her model, she says. Whenever she thinks she’s got a lot with which to cope, she confides, she simply thinks of what Jimmy’s had to overcome in the past two years.
That’s because Jimmy had hope and plenty of friends, he affirms, as Ray is seen in the background to cross the Close in the direction of Hotel Corkhill. (This Jimmy-Nikki mutual admiration society is being laid on a bit thick and syrupy).
Ray greets both Nikki and Jimmy and asks if he can have a word with Jim in private.
Of course, Jimmy booms. What does Ray want to see Jim about?
About Helen, Ray admits, briefly, as Nikki excuses herself and leaves.
Ray and Jimmy step inside Hotel Corkhill. Jimmy requests that Ray say what he had to say.
All right, musters Ray. He realises that during Jim’s married life, he kept a certain amount of secrecy with Jackie about some things, but he thinks Helen is deserving of different treatment. Since Jim’s illness, Jim’s been nothing but forthcoming about his health problems with the rest of the Close. Now Ray insists that Jim be equally as truthful with Helen. He wants no skeletons from Jimmy’s closet to come crashing down on Helen. And anyway, is Jimmy always preaching now that honesty is the best policy?
The poor man’s version of Sex and the City featuring Katie and Nisha still continues at NNT. Katie admits to Nisha that she’s dying to phone Jacqui, now that she’s home; but she’s frightened that Ron might be over there and might pick up the phone.
Nisha, whose patience with Katie’s constant misery is beginning to wear noticeably thin, tells Katie to just get on and do it. If she were truly Jacqui’s friend, that obstacle shouldn’t matter. Katie could offer Jacqui a lot, Nisha says, and she could be very helpful to Jacqui in dealing with her present situation, because of what they’d both been through.
Katie wrinkles her brow in bafflement. She doesn’t understand what Nisha’s talking about.
Well, Nisha explains, both Jacqui and Katie have both suffered a loss. Jacqui’s lost a baby and Katie’s lost Clint. Katie could use her experience to help Jacqui come to terms with this loss.
Katie is highly insulted. Her loss was far more devastating than Jacqui’s, she says, in a huff. After all, Jacqui’s only lost a BABY. At the end of the day, she could always have another BABY ... but Katie couldn never replace a boyfriend like the one she lost.
(Sorry, what a callous, selfish, self-centred remark to make, and I’m surprised no one’s picked up on this. Yes, Jacqui’s lost a child, in the embryo stage, but that doesn’t lessen her loss. AND having lost an ovary and a Falloppian tube, there always IS a chance that she may not be able to conceive again. Yes, Katie’s loss is great, but there is equally as great, if not a greater chance, that she will meet another person who will be just as important as Clint. A life was lost. That’s tragic. But Clint was nothing special, believe me).
Nisha is disgusted and impatient with Katie’s surly attitude and intransigence, and, pushing past the wretch, leaves the flat, muttering that she can’t deal with much more of this.
(Cue dramatic music. Nisha’s patience is gone at last! Rejoice!)
As Jacqui sits tearfully on her own, she hears the key turn in the front door. Thinking that it might be Max returning, she calls out to him, but Ron enters the lounge area.
He apologises and explains that he still has his spare key to Chateau Farnham. Coming into the lounge and sitting at the end of the sofa on which Jacqui’s lying, he apologises sincerely for the loss of Jacqui’s baby and also apologises for his behaviour when he last visited her in hospital. What she must have thought of him as he sat at her bedside, wallowing in self-pity, he says.
Jacqui is glad of Ron’s company and tells him she was just about to make some toast. Does he want some?
Ron insists that Jacqui stay put. HE’LL make her some toast and waddles off to the Farnham kitchen. Almost immediately he’s made his heartfelt apology for his selfishness and self-centredness, he’s at it again. He HAD to get out of Number 8 for awhile, he tells Jacqui. Living there with Ray and Jessie, he says, feels like living in a houseful of strangers. And with Anthea gone ... Yadda yadda.
(Change the record, please).
Once Ron’s made the toast, he sits with Jacqui on the sofa, still reviewing the recent events in his life, oblivious to what Jacqui’s just experienced and blind to any comfort she might need.
He realises now, he says, ruefully, that he should never have asked Anthea to lie for him in court.
Jacqui tries to reassure Ron, telling him that Ron’s back was against the wall at the time. It wasn’t his fault that, at that moment, Anthea suddenly decided to develop a conscience.
Ron reminisces about his night spent on the pier head, when he was emotionally in pieces. Jacqui reminds Ron that she was terrified for him when he went missing like that. But Ron continues, saying that it was during that night that he was finally able to make an anaylisis of Anthea’s behaviiour and realised that she had let him down severely.
Again, Jacqui begs her father not to speak of that time. She had never seen him like that before in all her life and she was still uncomfortable speaking about it.
Ron remarks, bleakly, that it seems that he had worked all his life only to end up alone and on his own.
But he’s not alone, Jacqui protests, vociferously. Ron has all his family around him.
That’s not what he means, Ron says, sulkily. He needs someone to come home to, someone to wake up for.
Jacqui raises her courage to ask Ron what he would have done if he hadn’t been found on the pier by her and Mike. Ron admits that he would have committed suicide. This admission distresses Jacqui, but Ron ameliorates the statement by saying that it was only the thought of what his suicide would have done to Jacqui and Mike that kept him from doing the deed.
Jacqui admits that she would never have been able to forgive him, if he had done that.
Marty enters the sitcom kitchen to find Dire struggling to open a stiff envelope. It’s Ant’s school class photo, she explains, and she’s not even looked at it yet. She pulls it from the sleeve and gazes at the image of the students. Her eye is drawn to a particularly sullen image of Imelda, staring glassily at the camera. Imelda’s in it, she murmers, almost to herself.
At that moment, Ant enters, having returned from school. Dire greets him with a sickly syrupy smile, asking if burgers were all right for his tea.
Ant readily agrees and Marty jokes that he’d better hurry and eat them, because if Adele and Gareth got there, there would be nothing left.
Dire hands the photo to Ant and he gazes, too, at Imelda’s image.
Back at Chateau Farnham, Ron is tackling some of Jacqui’s laundry, putting it in the washer. Jacqui, still seated on her sofa throne, jokes that she should tell DD about Ron doing Jacqui’s ironing. (A point to discuss: Where the hell is DD? And why the hell hasn’t she been contacted regarding Jacqui’s miscarriage? If ever there were a time a girl needed her mother, that’s the case! Yet DD only gets a trivial mention).
As Ron puts the last of the dirty clothes in the washer, he remarks that ironing was about all that was left of Ron’s empire.
Jacqui asks Ron if he remembers Sol, who used to manage her health club. ( Er, I think that, at the time Sol first put in an appearance, Ron Dikko had other things on his mind, like a trial, and wouldn’t remember him). Well, Jacqui continues, Sol was only having a bit on the side with Penny, the laundry rep; but Sol’s wife found out and stormed into the club.
She only kicked off at Sammy, Jacqui continues, thinking Sammy the bit on the side. Well, Jacqui says, of course that meant Sol got the sack - so she was one down at the Health Club and with a pile of dirty towels to boot.
Ron glances at his watch, telling Jacqui he’d have to go. He’s promised Bev that he’d babysit Josh tonight and he didn’t want to be late. Bev’s minder had let her down again. He’s off to Bev’s flat, although he’d like to take the lad back to Number 8. There simply wasn’t any more room there. (I should think not).
Jacqui warns Ron not to let Bev take advantage of his good nature (as if Ron shouldn’t babysit his grandson), but Ron’s only too glad to do it. Josh reminds him a lot of Mike when he was that age. As he walks toward the door, he thinks Jacqui for listening to his problems, admitting that he wasn’t the easiest person in the world to get on with.
As he closes the front door, Ron sees Max parking the car in the driveway. Walking down the drive, Ron asks Max if he has a minute and leads the younger man by the arm in the direction in which Ron walks.
Ron doesn’t bandy about with words. He sternly upbraids Max for his supposed flippant behaviour towards Jacqui. He wants Max to know politely that Ron’s daughter in that house there needs a lot of care and comfort. And where was Max and what did Max mean by swanning off to work on today of all days?
Max is absolutely horrified and, trying to get a word in edgewise, attempts to tell Ron that it was Jacqui’s idea that he go to work that day.
Ron won’t be deterred. Max has a wife, who’s just lost his child, he says. She needs Max to be there.
In clipped tones through clenched teeth, Maxim informs Ron that his WIFE and his CHILDREN were Max’s first priority.
That’s rich, exclaims Ron. Why, Jacqueline would never have lost that baby if Max hadn’t let her return to work. (Yeah, sure. Jacqui lost a baby, Ron, because the conception didn’t occur properly. It was a flawed pregnancy from the very beginning ... when Jacqui WASN’T working).
Max retorts with both barrels blazing (a terrible pun to use, considering the subject is Ron Dixon). Well, if Ron wanted some home truths, Max would give him some. If Ron were a truly proper father, himself, he’d have paid proper attention to Mike ages ago. Maybe Mike would even have had his own place by now and be standing on his own two feet, instead of mooching around, expecting Ron to pick up the pieces of Mike’s adult life.
Why, even though Ron minges about it, Max continues, he only subsidises Mike and keeps him and his family near Ron, in order to justify Ron’s own continued existence. If Mike and Rachel were to leave, without them, Ron would just go away into oblivion. Ron needs to get a life of his own, Max says. Because Ron’s biggest problem was having too much time on his hands and too little to do to occupy it.
Ron is left stupefied and insulted by Max’s remarks.
Happy-Clappy Helen with a permanent grin as wide as the Mersey arrives at Hotel Corkhill, just as Dr Nikki is attempting to leave again on her rounds. Jimmy greets her reticently, wanting to know if she’d managed to speak to Ray earlier.
Helen admits that she hasn’t spoken to Ray.
Jimmy tries to begin a spiel. Well, he and Helen were friends, he says, but in truth, they hardly knew each other.
Is this where Jimmy is about to reveal his murky past? Helen teases, smilingly (as usual).
Jimmy confesses that he’s had fifty years of a murky past.
Ooh, remarks Helen, smilingly. Do tell ... Only leave out the boring bits, she begs. Start at sixteen, for example.
At sixteen, Jim says, he was in a dead-end job, earning peanuts and left with nothing after he’d paid his Mam his keep.
So, suggests Helen, playfully and smilingly bobbing her head, Jimmy must have decided to ‘supplement’ his income ( a euphemistic jeu de mot fof beginning a life of crime).
Jimmy nods, shamefully. Before he knew it, he was in trouble with the police, which led to more trouble with the police. It was like a self-fulfilling prophecy, he explains. The more useless a person is told that he is, the more useless he feels. (Hey, peeps, THIS is the big sociological lecture from Prof Phil, the explanation of why so many ornery, low-down, selfish, stinking, petty little toerags like the two who killed Damilola Taylor and got off scot-free, descend into a life of crime. THEY, like scallies like Jimmy and Tim, are the victims, ladies and gents. THEY are to be pitied, cajoled and encouraged. The victims of their actions and their families can, quite politely, go to hell and rot).
Helen stops smiling for a brief moment and narrows her eyes, denoting intense concentration and passion. But what CHANGED Jimmy? She asks, intensely, as if she were a good, idealistic social worker.
Why, Jim’s life experiences ultimately changed him, Jimmy says. When Jimmy left school, he saw all the clever lads, the ones with all their qualifications, come to nowt, because in reality, they were as thick as two short planks (nothing to do with the lad next door, understand).
Then there were the Seventies and then the Eighties, with all the yuppies. And all the time, Jimmy says, he was just trying to cope, trying to stay on a level kill. What about Helen’s murky past? Jimmy asks, suddenly, turning the tables on her. Starting at sixteen?
Helen smilingly blushes.
Inside Chateau Farnham, Max has just finished telling Jacqui about the run-in he had outside with Ron. The problem with Ron, he’s saying, is that no one’s ever stood up to him before.
But, Jacqui protests lamely, Max shouldn’t have said those things. After all, Ron IS Jacqui’s father.
And Max is Jacqui’s husband, Max retorts, and Jacqui is Max’s wife. Did Ron not even stop to THINK how much those things he said hurt Max? The babyJacqui lost was his baby too, for goodness sake! Oh, what the hell! Max exclaims. He was sick of this place. There were simply too many memories here. The only chance he and Jacqui would ever have of making a go of this marriage is if they were to leave.
But, Jacqui argues, haltingly, they’d already planned to expand their home here. They’d only spend more on a new house.
Sorry, Max says, emphatically, there are just too many bad memories about this place, and all signs point to the fact that he and Jacqui could leave. Max wants out, he confesses.
Jacqui’s face is a picture.
Happy-Clappy Helen has smilingly begun to relate her life’s story to Jimmy. He previous life revolved around helping her husband Nigel climb the career ladder, she says in a bored tone of voice, but still smiling endlessly. He was in bank management, and they moved around a lot - always with a step up the next rung of the ladder. Stephanie was born while they were living in Luton.
Suddenly, she says, smilingly, she found herself in a house spending twenty-four hours with this baby. (What IS it with these women - Jacqui, Natalie Evans, Helen - these days you don’t HAVE to get pregnant!)
Helen says smilingly that she became bored and desperate for excitement. Living with Nigel was simply not enough. When he was offered a better job in Southend, she couldn’t take anymore. So she and her husband had a long talk, probably smilingly, and agreed that they both wanted different things. He wanted to climb the ladder of success whilst Helen wanted ...
To stop and smell the roses, finishes Jimmy, moving cleverly into Sage mode. Then Jimmy begins to give HIS version of his split with Jackie. He wishes now he’d handled the break-up of his marriage differently now, he says, regretfully, but they didn’t part the best of mates. They were together 27 years, he says. (NO! NO! NO! JIMMY AND JACKIE WERE MARRIED IN 1971!!!!!!!!!! WHOEVER THE HELL DECIDED TO ALTER THE LENGTH OF THE CORKHILL’S MARRIAGE SHOULD BE SHOT!!!) After all the strife he and Jackie had been through, he continues, glossing over the dodgy bits, losing his son and his job - his beloved teaching job - it all took a toll on Jim’s health. There’s only so much, he says, deliberately falteringly, that he could put up with.
All the more reason, says Helen, as she smiling bobs her head toward Jimmy, for Jimmy to turn over a new leaf and start again.
The Sage leans toward her at the same time and they meet in a mega snog. As the snog gets serious, the front door opens and Dr Nikki enters, stopping at the door into the Corkhill lounge, where she spies the couple sucking each other’s face.
A furiously jealous look covers Nikki’s face.
Someone should have had the Brookside hand put in an appearance and give her a hearty slap.
Tom Higgins wrote this episode, and he deserves an award. Anybody who can put thirty minutes of nothing together in a script deserves honourable mention.
Summary © 2002 Marion Watts
Brookside and all related materials are © Mersey Television 1982-2002