BROOKSIDE AS A HYBRID?
OK,OK, so we ALL know Brookside is probably the weakest of the four main soaps at the moment and that it’s in trouble, although you’d never know it the way TPTB at Mersey bury their heads in the sand doing a fair imitation of an ostrich. Well, being a keen enough gardener, I started thinking about how Brookside could be helped - and no, casting Charlie Dimmock and her tits to rival Emily’s plastic ones and Kirsty’s weird perpendicular ones, isn’t the answer, although I’m sure there are those at Mersey TV who think it may be.
No.
To strengthen a particular plant, it’s sometimes necessary to create a hybrid, and this should be done with Brookside. Mersey TV could liaise with the likes of Eastenders or Corrie in order to obtain the temporary services of some of those soaps’ characters to forge a link with Brookside.
For example ...
Can’t you imagine Ma Gordon’s consternation when Pa is visited by his Augh-ee Peggy and cousins Phiw, Sam and Billy from the East End?
Peggy to Ma over the breakfast table: You call that a breakfast? We-he-he-he-he-ll, it looks lahk fried grease to me! And while we’re on the subject of grease, you’re legh’in them boys o’yours run wild. Mah Phiw and Grant ALWAYS grafted, they did!
Billy could get acquainted with Christy Muddie and enter into a few scams, whilst Phiw could sort out Bev.
Bev to Phiw: Oooh, yer like one o’them Loondoon criminals from Lock, Stock and Three Smokin’ Barrels, yer are, yer little moopet.
Sam could turn Dr Gary’s eye, much to the consternation of Nisha and Gaby the Grin.
Sam to Dr Parr: Doctor, me GP in Wawfawd found this lump in me breast. You wouldn’t care to examine it, would you?
Or how about Ashley Peacock having an affair with Rachel Dixon?
Or Fred Elliott coming around to perk up Brigid?
Fred to Brigid: Now, see here, Brigid, I say, see here, yer doan wanter give that daughter o’yorn, I say, yer doan wanter give’er amm=YOON-ition fer puttin yer in a home, like.
And how about this? Kat Slater and Jimmy Corkhill having an affair! It would be the battle of the big chins. Wouldn’t it be a treat seeing the two of them try to get past their chins to have a snog.
Kat to Jimmy (jutting out her chin and speaking through her clinched lips - I’m thinking Ronnie Ancona here): Wos true love then, eh? Yew show me, Cawh’ill!
Jimmy to Kat (jutting out his chin and narrowing his eyelids): Well, ferrrrrrrst, we need ter find a pool table. Yer joost me type, Kat. I like a woman with a sparrrre tyrrrrre round’er middle.
They snog and Jimmy is left with luminescent lip gloss all over his face.
How about Jacqui Farnham and Dev? Ken Barlow and Jessie? Ant-Urgh-Knee discussing psychology with Dr Nikki? Paul Trueman getting a leg over Leanne?
It could be the shot in the arm Brookside needs ...
Today is the day Jerome and Dr Nikki leave on their extensive European tour. Jerome and Nikki enter Hotel Corkhill laughing, as Jerome carries Nikki across the threshold.
Over at Bicker-Bicker House, Ma Gordon is tending to Luke the bunny, something his feckless mother should be doing (but she can’t be bothered). Ma pauses in the act of caring for the child to stare wistfully at the phone which dominates the foreground of the scene. (She’s waiting for a call from Bitch, who’s best forgotten).
Jacqui Farnham hesitantly walks down the hall of the hospital towards the CCU and Ron.
Back at Hotel Corkhill, Jerome and Nikki are concocting a fry-up breakfast - the last English fry-up they would have for a month. (Listen, if anyone believes that Suzanne Collins actually eats one morsel of an English fry-up, they’re blinkered. It’s so obvious that she’s part of the macrobiotic brigade, it isn’t funny). The last English fry-up, before a month of healthier, lighter European fare - and here Jerome shows his (and the Brookside writers’) total ignorance of foreign culture.
Jerome lifts Nikki off her feet again, as they discuss the various foods they’ll sample on the Continent - this includes PIZZA in Italy, which they WON’T sample because it’s tourist fare. Why, they’d eat so much (on a limited students’ budget, of course), that he simply wouldn’t be able to lift her when they returned - not that he can comfortably do so now, mind. Nikki would be his fat pasta mamma - what an ethnic insult!
Nikki has an idea. Why don’t they ask the Sage to join them? Instead of a Last Supper, they could have a Last Breakfast, with Jerome betraying Jimmy, eh?
Nikki scurries to the extension and opens the door, calling for Jimmy. (OMIGOD! What if she’d caught him naked and playing with his willy? Oh, the thought’s too much!)
She returns, puzzled, to the kitchen. Jimmy’s not there, she says, bewildered. The bed’s made and no one’s home.
Well, grins Jerome, maybe he spent the night at Helen’s. And Jerome was thinking, why not tell his mother, Vonnie, the stauesque super model with biceps, about their most recent engagement?
Ehhhhhhhhhm, no, says Nikki. She wanted to wait and tell Margi ferrrrrrrst, when they get to Brooossels.
Ma Gordon is pursuing her favourite pastime of whining to Pa, whilst she is steadily and gradually beginning to turn into Jackie Corkhill. She’s wandering distractedly about the house, in a SILK dressing gown and nightie, wondering why Bitch doesn’t call.
Pa is searching vainly for something amidst the cushions of the mangey sofa. He’s looking more and more put out with each episode, wondering how he can plot an escape route back to Walford, E20.
Oh, why doesn’t Bitch call? Wails Ma, for the fiftieth time.
Probably because she doesn’t know what it’s like to be a parent, snaps Pa, as well as having to go through withdrawal from smoking, he adds, viciously, pausing in the act of tossing cushions about. He rushes to the foot of the stairs and bellows for Ali the Ginger to appear.
Instead of Ali, Rabbity Ruth hops into the room, wearing a white nightie and matching dressing gown - white, because it shows the green of her snot more clearly when she wipes her runny nose. Rabbity Ruth’s not best pleased at being woken by Pa’s bull bellow.
Ma is trying to get Luke the bunny to drink some water. Poor Luke had a bad night, says Ma-cum-Jackie.
‘And I didn’t?’ Snaps Rabbity Ruth, who’s becoming Lindsey Corkhill II.
Pa is scurrying about the room, frantically searching for something, which irritates Ma. She asks what he’s looking for, and he snaps that he’s looking for his wallet.
Oh, that’s in her handbag, Ma whines. She needed it ter pay fer the takeaway from the previous night. (Ma cook? Perish the thought!) And as fer Pa, she was fed oop with his mood swings and vicious humour at the moment.
Pa asserts that he’s about to get a nicotine patch from Dr Parr shortly.
Rabbity Ruth can’t focus on anyone or anything but herself, just like her predecessor, Lindsey. She’s miffed. She certainly didn’t expect the grief entailed in receiving that solicitor’s letter from Sean. Him asking HER for a divorce! She was clearly the victim. She snorks back some snot and turns to her Pa. Maybe she should contact a solicitor, herself, she suggests.
As he dashes from the room to go to work (at least he still does), Pa shouts back at Rabbity Ruth that she’s to do nothing for the time being.
Poor Luke the bunny, coos Ma. He’s picking up on all the tension in the house, and it doesn’t help having his granddad in a foul temper either. Oh, why doesn’t that Bitch joost call? She has no consideration. (This is true).
Rabbity Ruth isn’t listening to a single thing Ma’s saying, which isn’t new, because none of her kids have ever listened to a word Ma’s ever said - which is why they’ve turned out rude, inconsiderate, selfish, shallow and pig-ignorant. She wants to know what Pa meant by saying she was to do noothink.
Well, Ma replies, sometimes it might seem as though he doesn’t, but ol’Pa does know a few things. Rabbity Ruth does want to get her house back, doesn’t she? Ma asks.
Well, yes she does, Rabbity Ruth pouts sullenly, but she wants to be with Dan the Man too. And speaking of which, has Ma had that word with Pa yet about Dan the Man moving in?
No, Ma replies, she hasn’t yet had the chance.
WELL, MA NEEDS TO GET OFF HER LAZY SCOUSE ARSE AND DO IT RIGHT NOW, demands Rabbity Ruth. SHE NEEDS TER BE WITH DAN THE MAN. SHE NEEDS TER BE WITH HIM MORE THAN SHE NEEDS TO BE WITH HER PO-FACED KID. SHE NEEDS A GOOD FUCK. She needs a good kick in her protruding teeth.
Jacqui, not in the best of moods, enters Ron’s unit to find him awake. (Er, if Ron’s a patient on the NHS, why isn’t he on a ward? It always looks as though he’s in a private room). Ron greets Jacqui wearily, saying what she already knows - that there’s been no change in his condition overnight.
Never mind, mutters Jacqui. Ron will soon be home and back to his old comforts - a nice, greasy fry-up with bacon butties et al.
Ron licks his lips at the thought, as Jacqui approaches the bedside. Yer know, he tells her, he’s never smoked in his life, nor done drooks, yet he’s punished because of his love of rich, greasy food.
Jacqui tells Ron that if he had this private surgery immediately, it would add years to his life.
Ron ignores the comment. Has Jacqui done his new will? He wants to know.
Jacqui nods. She’ll bring the document to him to sign the next day. She’s not too happy about it, herself, and Mike won’t be either, once he finds out that he’s being cut out. By the way, she adds, he’s making a headway with Ron’s laundry business - working really hard. He’s even honouring that old folks’ home contract.
Ron grunts. He bets Mike wishes Ron were in an old folks’ home.
And back at the Dixons’, Mike and Rachel are keeping all four of the washing machines going full blast, as they’re inundated with laundry. Mike has just collected the dirty bedding from the old folks’ home and is sorting through it, preparing it for the wash.
The two Farnham children and Beth sit ensconced in front of the television, whilst Rachel tidies up in the lounge. Mike takes a whiff of one of the OAPs’ sheets and makes a face at the pong. Rachel chides him, reminding him that one day they, themselves, might be incontinent. Mike chivvies Rachel along, saying that they’ve got to get this load of laundry done. As things stand, they might have to be up all night anyway, if the Health Club wanted clean towels for the next day.
Rachel asks Mike if he plans on seeing Ron later that day.
Of course, Mike replies. After all, he’s Ron’s Number One son, and that’s why he wants to keep this laundry business ticking over - give his dad one less thing about which to worry.
Rachel interrupts Mike to tick Harry off for bothering the two little girls, telling him to ‘watch n-eye-ce-leh.’
Meanwhile, at the garage, Adele is trying to stack shelves, but she’s being followed by Leanne, who’s carrying a clipboard and noting the girl’s every movement.
‘Slag,’ says Leanne.
‘You wha’?’ Replies Adele, frowning and looking over her shoulder.
‘Slag,’ repeats Leanne. And then she clarifies her meaning. ‘SLAG’ is an acronym, which means something I couldn’t be arsed to listen to, some efficiency and motivation jargon such as ‘Sociability, Leadership, Advancement and Goals’ or something of that ilk.
Adele doesn’t understand at all what Leanne’s on about, until Leanne informs Adele that Leanne is ‘unofficially’ her line manager.
‘Says who?’ Asks Adele in disbelief.
Well, Leanne smirks, it WILL be official, once she has a little word in Ma Gordon’s ear. Leanne rocks back on the heels of her shoes and shakes her head at Adele in mock sympathy, tutting all the time. My, my, how the mighty have fallen, she remarks. From Ayia Napa to Cornwall.
Adele shrugs and tells Leanne that she was looking forward to her holiday. Anyway, Cornwall is dead trendy.
Leanne snorts. Saying she’d rather have something a bit more exciting to look forward to than a bottle of cider and a grope from the village idiot. The Ayia Napa Nine have become the Cornwall Six.
Without missing a beat, Adele aks Leanne if that Mediterranean cruise her Uncle Christy had promised Leanne were still a big secret.
Leanne frowns fiercely.
Jacqui is still visiting Ron, when he has a coughing fit, so severe that it alarms Jacqui. She asks Ron if he wants her to ring for a nurse. Ron shakes his head as he finishes coughing, waving his arms to dissuade her. Once he’s finished, he gasps, ‘It’s not the cought that’ll carry me off, it’s the coffin they’ll carry me off in.’
Jacqui’s not amused by this play on words, as Ron remarks that he bets Katie Rogers is having a laugh at his expense. Talk about divine joostice!
Jacqui begins to plead with Ron to reconsider having his surgery done privately, but Ron insists that he wants to wait his turn on the NHS. But, Jacqui argues, Dr Parr said, himself, that Ron would be better off having the surgery sooner rather than later. What was he trying to prove?
Again, Ron reiterates that he could have the operation privately tomorrow and die on the table, or he could wait six months or so and have it on the NHS and be fine. He’s simply buying time, he says, thinking space in which to get his affairs in order - oh, and by the way, he tells her, no flowers at his funeral. Oh, and he wants a song by Brian Poole and the Tremeloes (not Silence is Golden).
Jacqui bursts into tears and tells Ron to stop talking about funerals and headstones and flowers and the like.
Timily sit at the table in the kitchen of Hotel Corkhill, having an argument. (Notice how Timily seem to be arguing a lot lately? And notice that Jennifer Ellison is leaving? This is the beginning of ‘Love’s Young Dream’.) They’re arguing about money. Emily says the money is hers to do with as she likes, as she earned it. Tim is arguing against something Emily wants to do with the money. (We’ll find out later).
Jerome and Nikki enter and ask them what’s going on.
‘Oh, noothink,’ replies Emily, sarcastically. ‘Me’n Tim’s havin’ one o’them maddied tiffs, yer know.’
Nikki wants to know where her guru, the Sage, is, and Emily shrugs, saying that perhaps he’s at Helen’s. As Tim asks Jerome if he’s got everything sorted for the trip, Dr Nikki phones Helen’s number on her mobile and gets the answer phone, on which she leaves a message for Jimmy. When she’s finished, Jerome asks Timily if they want to join him and Nikki later for a farewell meal. Tim agrees and asks if Ray planned on coming too.
Nikki replies that they’ve just been to see Ray and say their good-byes. Tim jokingly asks if Ray were in tears at her departure, but Nikki laughs and says Ray was more worried about what Jessie was getting up to on her holiday with Rita in Spain.
Emily laconically urges her sister to ensure that she’s packed everything. ‘Yer know,’ she purrs, ‘pack in haste, repent at leisure.’
Back at the hospital, Jacqui tearfully argues with Ron. Again, she points out that Dr Parr advised against waiting his turn for the op on the NHS. Jacqui accuses Ron of being scared, scared of spending money for his health. That was the be-all and end-all of the situation: Ron just couldn’t abide the thought of Jacqui spending £14k on his surgery. Well, she says, she and Max could afford it; and besides, it’s a bargain if it means she’ll still have her dad. She tells Ron he’s a selfish pig.
When she found him about to jump off the pier at the docks, during his trial, she understood why he was depressed and comtemplating suicide. But now, it’s as though Ron were using this to commit suicide and there was simply no need. Jacqui says that she and Mike love their dad, and their kids need their granddad. She doesn’t trust fate to ensure Ron will live to see his next grandchild.
As Adele toils behind the till, Christy swans into the garage, totally ignoring his niece.
‘Hello, sweetness and light,’ he greets Leanne, kissing her on the cheek and asking if she had something for him to eat as he was peckish.
Leanne cooes that she saved a sarnie whose sell-by date was yesterday and points him towards the refrigerated section, whilst hissing at Adele, who’s eyeing her accusingly, that this was a ‘staff discount’. She turns excitedly to Christy and whispers that she’s on trial as line manager. Christy is please for her as he unwraps the packaging on his sandwich.
So, Leanne begins, glancing surreptitiously over her shoulder at a glaring Adele, what’s the goss? Has a trial date been set yet?
Christy looks at her bewildered. What’s she on about? He asks.
‘Yer know,’ Leanne prods, ‘the mild-mannered school janitor who joost’appens ter be numero uno soospect in the Imelda Clough thingy.’
Christy objects, saying Marty’s done nothing. Why, he’s pure as the driven snow, and Leanne wants to watch what she’s insinuating. In fact, the bizzies have quizzed the whole school in that kid’s disappearance.
Hmm, yes, replies Leanne, sceptically, but Marty’s the only one they’ve left dangling.
Christy protests that Marty’s innocent. And it was sheer coincidence that that kid at the other school where Marty worked went missing.
‘Christy,’ says Leanne, ‘law-abiding citizens don’t have any need ter contact solicitors -’
Christy looks at her askance.
‘Oo-Oonless they’ve need o’compensation,’ Leanne hastily amends, recalling her own fraud. What she wonders, however, is if there’s soom kiddie perrrv killer on the loose, and is she looking at his brother?
As Rachel and Mike fold the laundry in the Dixon lounge, Harry and Emma are seen playing around the piles of dirty linen in the kitchen. Rachel remembers to tell Mike that some dental surgery rang earlier for him.
Oh, that would be Dr Parr’s mate, Mike says, the one he fixed Mike up with to have his bridge repaired. Rachel asks Mike if he’s going to be around during the afternoon to give her a hand, and Mike replies that he’s got a job interview, a proper job ... DRIVING A DELIVERY TRUCK! (See how far you can get with a degree from John Moores!)
The doorbell rings, and Mike talks up the job over his shoulder as he goes to answer it. It’s good money and it’s daytime work, he says, opening the door to Jacqui.
Jacqui steps inside, smiling. She’s just dropped by to tell them the news that Ron’s agreed to have the surgery done privately. In fact, they’ve scheduled him in for the op the following day, and they’ll be moving him to a private ward later today.
Mike and Rachel are overjoyed, and Mike wants to know what changed Ron’s mind.
Well, Jacqui begins, she talked him into it.
‘Oh, aye?’ Mike remarks, jealously.
‘Oh, don’t be that way,’ says Jacqui, impatiently. ‘What difference does it make who persuades him, joost as long as he has it done!’
Mike supposes that as Ron’s going to have this operation privately, that the private clinic will need paying.
Jacqui tells him not to worry. She’s taken care of everything and paid the costs today.
‘Well,’ says Mike, ‘joost give oos a moonth and we’ll kick in.’
But Jacqui si distracted by the sight of Emma entangled on the floor in a mass of dirty bedsheets from the old folks home. She rushes to the child, shouting her name, only to find Harry wrapped in them too and giggling.
‘Oh, that’s disGOOStink!’ She cries.
Later, Jacqui and Max are sharing a lunch at a booth in Bar Brookie, when Jacqui tells Max that she’s worried about Harry and Emma, as well as her father’s massive operation. She tells Max that she stopped by the Dixons’ earlier to tell Mike and Rachel about the operation and she found the children rolling around the kitchen floor wrapped in the dirty linen from the old follks’ home and unsupervised. Oh, she doesn’t mean to complain about Rachel - why, she’s a natural mum and good, really, at looking after them, but -
‘It’s time to move on?’ Suggests Max.
Feeling guilty, Jacqui protests that Rachel needs the money the child-minding provides.
Max points out to Jacqui that Harry will be four soon and that next September he would be starting school. He feels that, at this time, both Harry and Emma should be mixing with other children freely and not Beth exclusively. They would only benefit from it. After all, when Harry starts school, she didn’t want him to be in the slow stream of children, did she?
Jacqui agrees, saying that everytime she’s popped into the Dixons’ to check on the chidren during the day, Rachel seems to have them plopped in front of the television. Oh, she doesn’t know what to do!
Max rises to leave, saying that he’ll see her at the hospital later. He kisses her good-bye, and reminds her that he can’t be expected to subsidise Mike and Rachel forever.
Across The Parade, at the garage, Christy is still protesting Marty’s innocence, but Leanne has moved onto another tack. If Christy feels that the stress of Marty’s situation is too strong for him to bear, she hints, if he feels the need to get away for a bit because of the trauma and the shame - well, she’d be available if he wanted to go soomplace ... Like a beach.
Christy admits that perhaps he could do with a short break, but at that moment, Adele stalks up to the couple, as Ma Gordon enters. Adele announces stolidly that she’s due a break from the till.
As Ma approaches, Leanne ignores her and hurriedly suggests to Christy that they’d do more than go on a short break. They’d take a proper holiday. Ayia Napa would be nice, shesays, rushing Christy out the door.
Adele remarks loudly again that she’s due a break on the till.
Ma Gordon agrees and looks at Leanne expectantly, as Leanne sweetly volunteers to man the till. As Christy goes out the door, Leanne calls to him to keep his chin up.
Ma wants to know who Christy is.
Oh, that’s Adele’s uncle, Leanne prattles, happily. He’s going through a pretty hard time of it lately, as is Adele, she adds. In fact, they’re both distraught at the situation.
What situation? Ma asks.
Oh, didn’t Ma know? Leanne says, in surprise. Why, Adele’s dad is under suspicion of merrr-derin’ two kids, both at schools where he werrked.
Ma frowns in bewilderment. She had no idea that they’d found Imelda Clough’s body, she remarks.
Leanne sighs, expressing how sorry she feels for poor Marty Muddie.
As Timily, Nikki and Jerome sit in the bar, Jerome enthuses to Tim about the holiday, whilst Emily encourages Nikki not to wed Jerome. In fact, Nikki should use this holiday time to think seriously about such a commitment.
Nikki, however, refuses to listen, saying that Jerome is as good as it gets. (Nikki has never lived).
Dr Nikki is also worried that the Sage hasn’t put in an appearance today and that she wouldn’t see him before they left later in the day. Emily doesn’t listen to her, insisting that Jerome isn’t good enough for Nikki.
Jacqui calls around the Dixons’ again, this time to see Rachel. Mike is there also. Jacqui finds it difficult to say what she came to say, but she begins by saying that, overall, Rachel does a good job looking after Jacqui’s children. But ... But in the future, she says, she’d appreciate it if Rachel would mind Harry and Emma at Number 8.
What’s the problem? Mike demands. The kids play all right here.
Jacqui tells Mike that she wasn’t best pleased to see them playing in the dirty laundry when she stopped by before. Unsupervised, they were too. Why, playing in soiled sheets, they could pick up all sorts. Jacqui continues by saying that when she was a full-time mum -
For all of one day, Mike quips.
Jacqui says she knows how demanding being a full-time mother can be. It’s all the time or nothing. She’d just appreciate Rachel spending a bit more time with her kids rather than depending on the television or video.
Mike takes offense. Did Jacqui know that Rachel had also been working flat out, helping him with the laundry business whilst their dad was in hospital? And for noothink?
She doesn’t have to do that, argues Jacqui. Mike should be more than capable of taking care of the laundry business by himself.
Mike starts to argue back, but Rachel interrupts, looking chastened and blinking furiously.
‘Tha’s aw r-eye-ght,’ she drawls. ‘’I’ll look af-teh kids a’ Noom-beh 8.’ She glances at Mike. ‘We need moon-eh,’ she finishes, sadly.
Timily and Jerome and Nikki are back seated at their table in the bar, whilst Nikki worries aloud about Jimmy’s absence. The rest try to convince her that Jimmy doesn’t need her as a carer now that he had Helen. Timily surprise Nikki by handing her a wad of money. It’s the money Emily’s earned, plus Tim’s latest wages - all legitimate - and a cool grand from Jessie to ensure that Nikki can blow her cash big time in Europe.
Nikki thanks them and tells them that she’ll buy the next round. But of course, she’s left her purse at home and has to pop home to retrieve it.
When Adele returns from her break, Ma Gordon asks to see her. She asks Adele how things are at home. Adele is puzzled by her concern, but tells Ma that her Nin was staying with them and at the moment, Antony was having a mass of bad dreams that were doing her head in.
Well, Ma coos sympathetically, if Adele feels that she needs an EXTENDED holiday of sorts, Ma would understand her absence - for any reason.
Why would she want an extended holiday? Adele asks, truly confused now, as Leanne earwigs in the background.
Well, Ma reckons, if the press coverage about Adele’s father gets too much for one thing-
Press cov-? Adele begins. What’s this to do with her dad? She wants to know. Turning suddenly, she catches Leanne’s gaze. Well, her dad was fine, she announces flatly to Ma Gordon. And nothing’s been said in any way connecting him with Imelda Clough. Oh, and her dad and her family would do a helluva lot better, thank you very mooch, if perfect strangers didn’t take it upon themselves to start vile rumours about them!
Mike is visiting Ron in hospital as Ron waits to be moved to a private room. Ron is musing on having the operation the next day. Did Mike realise that they would have to shave all Ron’s chest hair?
Mike jokes that Ron would go down a treat in the gay clubs of Liverpool.
AND did Mike know that they’ll use an electric saw to open Ron’s chest?
Mike laughs and asks Ron if they’ll give him a strap of leather on which to bite.
Ron remarks that Jacqui’s told him Mike’s doing a good job with the laundry.
Mike is pleased with the praise.
Nikki, popping home to retrieve her purse, pauses to leave the Sage a note on the Hotel Corkhill kitchen table.
‘Jimmy,’ it reads. ‘E-mail me.’ (Now, I know the Sage is omniscient, like the God Almighty he purports to be, but that said, he IS a mere mortal, and how would he know what e-mail addresses Dr Nikki would use on her world travels?)
An exhausted Ma Gordon trudges home to Bicker-Bicker House, only to find Pa flaked out on the mangey sofa, stuffing his fat Sarf London gob. Taking advantage of the fact that he’s comfort eating, Ma decides to tackle the niggling question of Rabbity Ruth and Dan the Man. Ma begins by saying that it’s important for them, as a family (or as Pa would say ‘FAIRM’LY’) to give Rabbity Ruth all the help and support she needs. After all, Rabbity Ruth needs all the support she can get - hoardes of Kleenex, shampoo, a good dentist for those Bugs Bunny choppers et al ... But, she adds, hopefully, only DAN can give her the emotional support she needs.
(Hang on a minute, here ... Am I wrong or didn’t RUTH instigate the break-up of her marriage by committing adultery with Dan? And prior to this, I seem to recall that the only ‘sin’ the hapless Sean had committed, was to work away from home to better provide for his wife and child. She needs emotional support? This is a euphemism for the fact that she willingly left the marital home, with no money and poor job prospects, and now seeks free accommodation in which to fuck her lover. Besides that, she’s asking her parents to CONDONE this sort of behaviour. The fact that Pa Gordon doesn’t and is uncomfortable with the scenario speaks VOLUMES for the ‘soft Southeast’ of this country. In your Liverpool slums, my arse!)
As if to labour her weak point, Ma gazes longinly up into Pa’s smoke-rimmed eyes and bats her eyelids in a pale imitation of an English actress trying to play a Southern Belle (and it’s been 60 years since anyone’s done that successfully!)
At first Pa doesn’t bite the bullet. In fact, he says, he’s only hoping Rabbity Ruth’s stay in this house is decidedly short-term. Besides, he doesn’t like this parleying about and using Luke the bunny as a weapon against the hapless Sean, who DOES have rights to his son. Ruth needs to keep Sean sweet, he continues, she needs the marital home.
Ma bats her eyelids some more, and finally Pa relents. (He’s lived up North for too long, and needs to return pronto to Walford, E20, and have some of Augh’ee Peggy’s home cooking and a few nights out with Cousin Phiw and Cousin Billy, not to mention a quick snog with Cousin Grunt’s ex, Shaz!)
Dan can stay, Pa concedes, reluctantly. But only temporarily. As he relents, Ali the Ginger enters the room in time to hear this. This is NOT what he wanted and he acts out. He was hoping to be able to move into Bitch’s room and thus end his enforced sharing of a room with the Brookside Bike. So now all this was being done at HIS expense just to accommodate his elder sister’s bit on the side!
He starts furiously aiming for the door, with poor Ma running after him, imploring him to wait and stay. It would only be for a few weeks that he’d have to share with the Brookside Bike. Only a few weeks, Ma pleads, and then Ruth would be back in her own home.
Only if she remembers that Sean is Luke the bunny’s dad, quips Pa under his breath.
But Ali the Ginger won’t listen. He’s off ter stay at Thommo’s he announces, barrelling out the door, where he doesn’t have to enunciate clearly.
Ma certainly has raised her children well.
Meanwhile, Nikki and Jerome are about to embark on their fabulous European adventure, courtesy of a Mersey Mover bus. I can only assume that the Magical Mystery Mersey Mover bus goes directly to the airport, because they only have four weeks in which to travel and I don’t think they have the time to endure a day-long train trip, with three changes, in order to arrive in either Ashford or Dover to hop either the Eurostar to Brussels (or the money for that one) or one of the ferries to Calais or the Seacat to Oostende. Anyway, I’d hate to think of that pair in my neck of the woods.
They board the bus, acting reminiscently like two deprived schoolchildren about to embark on a school field trip. They bounce up and down eagerly on the seats of the bus and call out ‘Good-bye, Manor Park’, waving out the window as the bus rounds the corner of the Parade. (Christ Almighty, they’re only going to Europe and for a month!) Suddenly, Nikki spots the eminent Sage wafting fragrantly onto The Parade and SCREAMS at the driver to stop the bus. (Is this obsession or what?)
As she scrambles out the door, Jerome looks embarrassed and apologises to the driver, imploring him to wait a wee minute, as Nikki hurls herself into the arms of the Sage.
Sage and disciple cling to each other sickeningly (honestly, I almost puked) for a long interval, whilst Jimmy murmurs that he didn’t want Nikki to go without saying good-bye. Nikki tearfully begs Jimmy to make sure Happy Smiling Fatarsed Fartarsed Helen takes care of him, and Jimmy orders Jerome to look after Nikki.
Glancing back at the bus driver nervously, Jerome promises to do that, as the driver toots his horn.
Nikki informs Jimmy that she and Jerome have decided not to get maddied oontil they get back from their holidays, and again, the Sage hugs her and congratulates her.
Nikki suddenly brushes back a nostalgic tear. Why, why, that’s exactly what Greg would have said and done. (Listen, babe, Jimmy Corkhill is NOT Greg Shadwick, and you’re well and truly blinkered if you think he is).
They re-board the bus and as it leaves, they and Jimmy wave good-bye to each other.
Max and Jacqui arrive on the floor of the CCU at the hospital. As they get out of the lift, they’re sharing a joke about Max’s reluctance to visit doctors or dentists or anyone remotely medical. Rounding the corner to Ron’s unit, they meet a glum-faced Mike coming from Ron’s room. From the look on Mike’s face, Jacqui knows something is wrong.
Mike informs Max and Jacqui that Ron’s suffered yet another heart attack. The couple follow him to the door of the unit, where staff are battling to stabilise an unconscious Ron.
They were just talking, Mike says, when Ron suddenly started getting chest pains.
But what about the operation? Asks Jacqui.
It’s got to go ahead now, says Mike, and on NHS instead of private because of the urgency of the situation ... That is, if Ron can make it through the night.
(Oh, that time-worn cliche!)
Heather Robson wrote this. Note the singular lack of quality and professionalism
about the piece.
Summary © 2002 Marion Watts
Brookside and all related materials are © Mersey Television 1982-2002