CORRIE BECOMES BROOKSIDE?
First of all, apologies for the relative brevity of this summary. The truth is, my middle child taped over the episode accidentally at his father’s request - but I’ll forgive him for that, as he was taping Waking the Dead, starring the wonderful Sue Johnston, who - as a Liverpool matriarch - could chew the increasingly whiney and awful Annette Ekblon up and spit her out in one scene. So this one’s based on sheer memory.
But I dare say, the brevity will please one of those poor, benighted souls who still frequent the Google newsgroup - in particular the incessantly moaning woman who can’t be bothered to refer to me either by my real name or my Brooksider moniker when COMPLAINING of the length of my summaries, insisting on referring to me as ‘that woman’. As I can’t remember her insignificant name, I shall refer to her as ‘that whingeing bimbo on the Newsgroup’, who doesn’t have the intelligence or attention span to read the summaries. Perhaps she’d prefer ‘dummeries’ to suit her intelligence? Anyway, she’ll be pleased with this.
But before I perservere, let me say a few nice things about Coronation Street, to which I’ve been belatedly converted. At the moment, it’s going great guns. The writing is crisp, the acting is solid, it’s got drama, it’s got pathos and - boy! - has it ever got humour. Les Battersby is Jimmy Corkhill the way he’s supposed to be. Geena is Rachel with a brain and minus two stone. Karen McDonald is everything Bev was and isn’t now. And - I have to say - I’ve never seen so much male totty in one soap - Steve McDonald, Dev Alahan, Joe Carter, Vik Desai ... But no one notices that. Why? Because they’re acTORS, and they let the script speak for itself. What a difference a team of intelligent writers make.
Sincerely yours to the Newsgroup,
‘That woman’
The now-traditional opening shots of the episode all feature sleeping figures - or figures trying to sleep. First we see a rare show of maternal love from Rabbity Ruth, as she snorks back some excess snot, wipes the remainder from what’s left of her upper lip and bends over to bestow a mucousy kiss on the forehead of a sleeping Luke.
THE MUDDIES
Next we’re taken by the magic of television to Sitcom House, where we see Ant Muddie, tossing restlessly in his makeshift bed in the conservatory.
Upstairs, Dire performs the ritual of turning out all the lights on the landing. Inside the Muddie marital bedroom, where so much fruitless effort has been put into conceiving a child, Marty Muddie lies in bed, wide awake, his face pointedly turned away from the door, in anticipation of avoiding his wife. The overhead light is on and Dire enters the bedroom. In her overbearing, foghorn voice, Dire enquires if Marty’s asleep.
Upon hearing that bellow, Marty tightly shuts his eyes and doesn’t answer. Sighing, Dire removes her dressing gown, turns out the light and gets into bed with a wuddied frown.
The camera pans back to Marty’s face, eyes open again and staring into the distance.
Later in the night, Ant suffers a nightmare. In his dream, we see the pond in the wooded area, shrouded in fog. The dead body of Imelda, lies on its bank, her legs up the bank and her head submerged in the shallow water. She’s wearing her tracksuit, in which she died. We hear a rustle of water and the prone body of Imelda sits up and gets to her feet.
Funny what death does to a person. When Imelda died, she was a round-faced, chubby, little girl. The dead Imelda seems to have grown about six inches, has legs up to her armpits and a finely chisled face. She’s positively - note the word, Coxyboro - willowy. Slowly the dead Imelda walks from the pond, her face like a zombie’s emotionless mask. Cut back to Ant, squirming and grunting in his monk-like bed.
The dead Imelda is seen walking slowly onto the Close. We see her step over the border separating Hotel Corkhill from Sitcom House. Now the camera cuts to a dream Antony, awake and sitting in the conservatory, playing with his Gameboy. Dead Imelda stalks around the back of Sitcom House and stops just outside the conservatory window. There she stands for some moments, staring solemnly at Antony, who plays with his toy.
Looking over his shoulder, however, he sees Dead Imelda standing there. Dead Imelda’s frozen face changes imperceptibly into a threatening expression. Antony, in a blind panic, begins to scream and scrabbles under a nearby table, as we hear the smashing of glass in the background. Antony continues to scream hysterically.
Suddenly, the dream is over and Marty Muddie stands by his son’s bedside as Antony, awake now, clings to his dad. In a strangled voice, he starts to babble incoherently:
‘I did it! I did it! I killed her!’
Marty holds the boy close and strokes his hair, making murmuring sounds of comfort, assuring Antony that it was all a bad dream.
However, as the night wears on, Marty finds himself unable to sleep, so round about 5AM, when Plank rolls in from shagging whatever maddied woman he’s fancying, he’s amazed, upon entering the kitchen, to find his father outside in the rather unkempt back garden, staring dejectedly into the pond at dawn. Plank tiptoes through the conservatory, so as not to wake Antony, and joins Marty. He wants to know what Marty’s doing in the garden at that hour of the morning.
Marty tells Plank that he can’t sleep. Then he tells Plank about the grilling the police gave him about his former police record. Plank is curious about that, but he doesn’t think it holds any wuddy for Marty in this circumstance. And did Marty tell the bizzies about Plank’s ‘so-called moother’? He asks.
Marty, staring into the distance bleakly, replies in a small voice that he couldn’t.
Plank suggests that the two of them go back inside, as it’s cold outside.
A few hours later, Marty and Ant sit, nervously quiet, at the breakfast table, whilst Dire, who loves the sound of her own voice, babbles on about nothing in particular.
SHE’S OFF TER VISIT BRIGID IN’OZZY LATER, she bellows, announcing her intentions to the entire Close at large. IS MARTY GOIN’ INTER WERRRK TERDAY?
Hanging his head low over his plate, as Dire pfaffs about the counter, pretending to be busy, Marty mutters that he can’t be bothered. There was hardly anything to do, and anyway, even Mrs Plummer was in France. (Well, she would be, wouldn’t she, as the trendy Blairs have made that a fashionable place to go this year).
WELL, IF HE WASN’T GOIN’ TER WERRRK, THEN HE COULD JOOST GO WITH HER TER SEE BRIGID, drones Dire. AFTER ALL, BRIGID GETS OUT THE NEXT DAY.
Marty doesn’t promise Dire anything, much to her frustration. She wonders aloud why Marty seems so withdrawn and steps to the door leading into the lounge and SHRIEKS at the top of her formidable voice for Plank to get his lazy arse down the stairs.
Outside, the whole Close is jolted awake by the sound and the new glass in the windows of the restored bungalow, shatters.
Plank appears, dazed from the blast from Dire’s big gob, hurrying to the breakfast table.
‘AND WHAT TIME D’YER CALL WHEN YER GORROME LAST NIGHT?’ Shrieks Dire, in the lad’s ear, perforating his left eardrum.
Plank digs his finger into the injured earhole and pulls out some wax and a bit of blood. About 1AMish, he mumbles, truly deafened by the blast.
‘WELL, YER FERGOT YER HAD AN APPOINTMENT TER SERRRVICE SOOM MAN’S CAR THIS MORNIN’ AND I GOT AN EAR-BASHIN’ OFF THE MAN!’ Exclaims Dire.
Plank suddenly remembers, and jumps up from his chair to telephone the man.
‘THE NOOMBER’S BY THE PHONE!’ Shouts Dire. ‘I DOAN MIND TAKIN’ MESSAGES ABOUT YER BUSINESS, BOOT I DOAN LIKE BEIN’ SCOLDED ABOUT YER TARRDINESS.’
As Plank goes into the next room, Dire turns her feckless attention on poor Marty. NOW, she begins, SHE WANTS TER KNOW ALL ABOUT DAT BUSINESS WID DEM BIZZIES THE OTHER DAY. WHY DO DEY WANTER SEE HIM BACK? MARTY CAN’T FOOL HER, SHE KNOWS SOOMTHINK’S WRONG, HIM NOT SLEEPIN’ AT NIGHT AND ALL.
Suddenly, Marty’s finally had enough of her irrepressible mouth. He jumps from his chair and shouts, ‘Shurrup, woman!’ , and storms out of the house.
As he leaves, Plank re-enters the kitchen, and Dire immediately tries to nag the reason of Marty’s discomfiture out of him, but Plank won’t tell her.
Later, when she’s left for work, Marty and Ant are in the kitchen. Ant’s got a loaf of uncut bread and is beginning to fix himself a sandwich, or butty, as the Scousers call it. The doorbell rings and for a moment, Marty panics. He opens the door to admit Christy, who saunters into the kitchen. Christy greets Ant, carelessly, and tells Marty that he’s just dropped by to see him about - about - about the fact that Christy hadn’t been shown Marty’s new pond yet, he lies - when it’s patently obvious that he was only in the back garden a few weeks before when they were building the barbecue.
Marty susses that Christy wants to talk to him, and the two adjourn into the back garden, with Christy playfully telling Ant not to choke on the sandwich. As the two men huddle together in the garden, Ant goes to the door and earwigs, which is his special duty in life. He’s God’s earwigger. Marty turns desperately to Christy in the garden, looking near to breaking point. Christy is visibly alarmed and asks his brother what’s wrong.
Marty breaks down and tells Christy that he just has to tell someone ... About what happened with him and Jan, he adds. Christy places a fraternal hand on Marty’s shoulder in support, as Marty swears Christy to secrecy. What Marty’s about to tell him must NEVER, EVER be divulged. And he means it; Christy’s NOT to tell Leanne a thing. Christy promises as the camera pans away. Whatever he’s told Christy, is told off camera and so the story is even more prolonged.
When the action returns to the Muddies, Christy’s clearly flabbergasted by whatever it is that Marty’s disclosed. Oooh, perhaps he’s a transvestite and liked dossing up in Jan’s undies. Or perhaps they got up to some kinky sex ... Or ...
Anyway, whatever the secret, Christy is utterly lost for words, but agrees that Marty HAS to tell Dire. Marty, however, is less than anxious to disclose his other side to Dire, for rear of what she would think.
Antony, meanwhile, has been earnestly trying to earwig the conversation from behind the double-glazing of the conservatory. As he’s trying to listen, however, we can almost see an idea formulating in his bigoted, narrow, little mind, as he furtively eyes Adele’s computer on the table beside his bed. When the two men return from from the garden, Antony asks Marty if it’s OK for him to use Adele’s computer, as he’s got homework to do, even though it’s August and school doesn’t start until September. Marty agrees, and Antony logs onto the machine.
We next see him opening a Word file, and we watch over his shoulder as the duplitious, little religious bigot types a letter:
‘To the police: My name is Imelda Clough, the girl yo u are searching for. I am alive and well and have run away from home.’ Later Antony addresses an envelope, in an overtly childish scrawl and is seen posting it in a local postbox. Seeing Marty wuddying later on, Antony confidently assures his father, as though the word has come from God, himself, or Jimmy, that Marty won’t have to wuddy about Imelda Clough.
Later Big Dire returns from visiting Brigid with a bee in her bonnet about finding Marty still at home. WELL, IF HE WASN’T ABOUT GOIN’ TER WERRRK, HE COULDA COOM TER THE OZZY TER VISIT DIRE’S MOOM, she whinges, full-blast. Seeing him wuddy, and wuddied, herself, about what’s wuddying Marty, she demands to know whatever secret he’s keeping from her. She tried ter get the stoof from their Plank this morning, but he wouldn’t budge.
Even though it’s well late in the day, Marty announces that he’s going to werrrk, and leaves the room in a flounce of which Adele would be proud.
THE GORDONS
Snorking back her accumulation of snot from the previous night, Rabbity Ruth hops to the land phone in the untidy lounge of Bicker-Bicker House and dial’s the number of the hapless Sean. No one replies, so his answerphone kicks in. Rabbity Ruth chomps her choppers and begins to leave a message, telling the hapless Sean that she needs him to come over as soon as possible that day, as she needs to discuss something about Luke.
Later, the hapless Sean dutifully shows up. When he enters Bicker-Bicker House, Rabbity Ruth tells him that she needs to discuss access arrangements with him regarding Luke. Things ARE looking up, the hapless Sean reckons, as Ruth is now willing to acknowledge the fact that the hapless Sean is, indeed, Luke’s father and - as such - has rights. The hapless Sean wants to know what changed Rabbity Ruth’s mind all of a soodden, like; and Rabbity Ruth, who has no common sense whatsoever, preens in a silly way, saying that, if Sean MOOST know, Dan the Man persuaded her to allow Sean access to the kid.
‘Oh, so his sayin’ so makes it all right then,’ snarls the hapless Sean.
Rabbity Ruth wiggles her little bunny nose and arranges herself primly on the mangey sofa (a rival, if there ever was one, to Les Battersby’s chair), ignoring the hapless Sean’s latest jibe. As a matter of fact, she sniffs, she was thinking about letting the hapless Sean see Luke for two days every two weeks.
Sean rebuffs that selfish offer. He was thinking more along the lines of his having the boy for FIVE days every other week, shared custody, in other words.
Rabbity Ruth chomps her massive choppers and frowns a massive frown, snorking back a massive globule of snot. She doesn’t like that suggestion one little bit, she doesn’t. What about the hapless Sean’s drinking? How can she troost him not to get drunk whilst in charge of Luke?
The hapless Sean explains that the one time he DID get drunk was just a one-off. Besides, he’s certainly had enough to drive him to drink with his slut of a wife taking off with another man for no good reason and denying him access to his son.
Rabbity Ruth burns bright red on her puffy, collagen-filled cheeks, well and truly put into her place. Well, she gropes about frantically for something with which to verbally beat the hapless Sean, what about Sean’s work? How could he possibly have Luke five days a week and work?
Sean replies confidently that, as he’s self-employed (uh-oh, this means another scally not paying any tax of VAT), he could tailor his hours to Luke’s needs the weeks he had the kid.
Later, as the discussions continue, Luke appears, silent as usual, clutching a carton of fruit drink with a straw. Because he’s been kept away from his dad for so long, he’s noticeably shy around the hapless Sean and has to be coaxed by Rabbity Ruth to approach his father and sit on his knee. As the kid sits on Sean’s lap, he accidentally spills fruit drink down Sean’s crotch. Sean jumps up and shouts at the kid.
Of course the silent Luke hops to Rabbity Ruth for comfort, and she tries to encourage him half-heartedly to return to the hapless Sean.
Sean’s annoyed, however, and accuses Ruth of making Luke like that by giving Dan the Man more access to the kid than his real father. Dan leaves in a huff, vowing to return for his son AND a divorce.
BRIGID AND RON
The day before she’s due to be released, Brigid visits Ron in his room to tell him that she’s leaving hospital the next day. Ron sits back in bed and relaxes, revelling in the thought that this time the following week, he’d be back in his own home and his own man.
Oh, she wouldn’t go as far as to think that, Brigid cautions. SHE’S been having words with the nurses (as if they’d disclose any information about Ron or his subsequent treatment to a neighbour), she says. Did Ron realise that for the next 2 weeks he will have to have round-the-clock, 24-hour care? Why, he wouldn’t be able to be left alone for a moment, she says. He’d hardly be able to take care of his business.
Well, Ron assures her, Mike and Rachel were there. They’d look after him, he promises.
But Brigid poo-poos that idea. MIKE look after Ron? She says, sceptically. Why, Mike doesn’t know whether he’s coming or going! When she worked for Great Grannies, she recalls, Mike Dixon was never very good at taking messages. She suggests that, if Ron wants, she could check up on Mike from time to time, see how he’s coping with the work. After all, it would be better if she kept an eye on him, being just across the Close at Dire’s and all.
Ron isn’t too sure, but he’s swayed by Brigid’s offer to make him a nice beef stew and bring it in when she’s released the next day. She knows how Ron hates hospital food.
NAUGHTY NURSE TOWERS
Sammy is still in a dither about whether or not to let Louise go on holiday with Tania Moran and her family. Katie, who’s doing the favourite Brookside household chore of ironing, is succinct in her reply. If Sammy has any doubts about that family, she should just say ‘no’ to Louise.
Sammy’s wuddied about denying her spoiled brat of a daughter a nice holiday. Oh, she moans, why wasn’t Tania’s father a bank MANAGER instead of a bank ROBBER?
So, cautions Katie, if Sammy’s that concerned about ‘Mr Big’, she should just tell Louise that the holiday’s not on.
Sammy wails that she feels she’s being pressured by Louise and that if she denies Louise this trip, Louise will hate her.
She will, for awhile, quips Katie. But at the end of the day, Sammy was the mother and Louise the daughter, and Sammy knows what’s best for her child. Louise would get over the disappointment.
Later, as Sammy is washing dishes, she suggests to Katie that the two of them see a film that evening. Katie cries off, because she’s seeing Nick the Builder. The two talk about how much Katie has grown to like Nick, and Sammy whines that she’s jealous. No one even wants to go to a film with her.
Katie asks out of interest what film Sammy had in mind. Sammy thinks Katie’s changed her mind, but Katie wonders if Sammy would like to see a gangster film.
(***HINT: This is supposed to be funny ... HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA)
Later, Sammy and Nisha stand in front of the breakfast bar and recite their lines. Nisha’s on a break from ‘Dr Faceache’ who’s in the surgery mooning over his troubled wife. Sammy starts bending Nisha’s ear about what she should do about Louise wanting to go on this holiday.
Nisha is even more succinct than Katie. Sammy is the girl’s mother, she says. If Sammy feels doubtful about Louise going on this holday, she should tell the girl it’s not on and tell her why. Sammy makes the stupid remark that she’s afraid that Tania and Louise would bully her into allowing Louise to go. (Tough shit. Sammy’s the parent. She needs to get her parental priority skills right and lay down the law to this little madam).
At that moment, the phone rings. It’s Louise, herself. Sammy takes the call and finds out that Tania’s father has made Louise call Sammy, after attempting to ring Richard. Ted Moran takes the phone and tells Sammy that he caught Louise and Tania in the local park drinking beer with some older lads. (ER, THESE GIRLS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE 10 YEARS OLD?) He goes ballistic and insults Sammy by saying that Sammy’s a bad mother.
Sammy, in a huff, tells Nisha all this when she ends the call.
Well, says Nisha, smugly, that solves Sammy’s problem. Now she has an excuse for denying Louise the privilege of going on holiday.
Oh, but it’s worse than that, Sammy says. Ted Moran’s going to drive Louise and Tania up to Liverpool for a chat with Sammy. It’s not over yet.
RAY AND JESSIE
The Hiltons are preparing to move into the bungalow, when there’s a last-minute hitch with the wiring; and the move will now be delayed for another week. Jess is distressed by this news, but Ray’s going out of his way to make a joke about it. As serious as he’ll get is saying that he’s going to make a list of things that just aren’t right and submit it to Nick the builder.
Jessie flops onto the Dixon sofa in exasperation. She sees through Ray and knows he’s upset by what happened with Happy Smiling Fatarsed Fartarsed Helen and Sylvia Morgan. They begin to discuss Helen and Sylvia.
Ray admits that he’s devastated by the way Sylvia’s handled the whole situation and by what she told Happy Smiling Fatarsed Fartarsed Helen.
Well, Jess admits, it was pretty callous of Ray to demand that Sylvia have an abortion.
Ray begins making excuses frantically. He was a young lad and married, himself. He honestly didn’t see any other way. Divorce just wasn’t so easy in those days. Still, he WAS happy when Helen finally found him.
Jess is understanding of that, surprisingly, and speaks movingly of losing Greg. She admits that she didn’t much like Sylvia Morgan when she met her, but she DID quite like Helen; and yes, Sylvia was wrong to diss Ray to Helen like that.
Ray is now wuddied that Helen won’t want anything more to do with him, after finding out that he originally wanted her to be aborted. Jess encourages Ray, telling him he has to be persistent and fight for Helen’s love. It’s certainly been an unsettling year, she sighs - with the fire and being 8 months without a home of their own, and then there was the question of Helen.
Ray soothes her by promising that they would be in the bungalow by next week.
Peter Cox wrote this episode.
Summary © 2002 Marion Watts
Brookside and all related materials are © Mersey Television 1982-2002