The Manor Park Reporter’s been delivered onto The Close, as well. Steve Muddie descends the stairs of Sitcom House and sees a copy left on the floor of the foyer. Curious, he picks it up for a read.
Next door at Hotel Corkhill, Jimmy’s on the phone to Lindsey, excitedly discussing the proposed holiday to the U S.
Rabbity Ruth, still hopping along The Parade is making a phone call as Dan Dan the Pasty-Faced Ginger Man slimes into view. Is Ruth OK? He asks solicitously.
Ruth switches off her phone and says that she’s been trying to call Sean ... AGAIN.
Is something wrong? Asks Dan.
Nothing, says Ruth, evasively. It’s just that she thought Sean might have let Luke ring her before going to school
Well, why not phone the school? Suggests Dan.
It’s not really important, Ruth replies.
Listen, Dan tells her, this sort of thing is bound to be happening all the time, with Luke going back and forth between parents. Anyway, he thought the idea of Luke going to spend the night with Sean was to give Ruth a rest. Just because Luke didn’t phone her before leaving for school doesn’t mean a thing. And to put a lid on all speculation, he suggests a quick coffee in the bar.
Jacqui and Max leave Number 8, whispering amongst themselves. Max is complaining about Jacqui not getting around to sacking Rachel. Well, Jacqui whines, Rachel IS her sister-in-law, and that doesn’t make the situation easy.
All the more reason that Max should be the one to land the blow, Max affirms. After all, HE has management expertise (and Jacqui doesn’t), and it would sound better coming from him.
No, Jacqui insists. She’ll do the deed. In fact, she’ll go back into the house this minute and tell Rachel. She’ll march right in there and say, ‘Rachel, me and Max -’
‘Er, Max and I,’ Max corrects her.
Annoyed, Jacqui tells Max to button it and get to work. By the time he comes home tonight, she promises, there’d be one less nanny.
Max gives his wife a sceptical look and leaves, just as Brigid calls out to Jacqui, as she comes back onto the Close from the direction of the Parade. She’s just back from the shops, she says.
Jacqui notes that Brigid looks tired, as though she’s got the weight of the world on her shoulders.
She’s just been after getting fresh fruit for Ron, she tells Jacqui. He doesn’t eat enough of it.
Well, remarks Jacqui, dubiously, Brigid will be lucky to get that lot down Ron.
Oh, she’ll get Rachel to do it, says Brigid breezily, as she approaches Number 7.
Eeeeem, what does Brigid mean? Jacqui asks.
Oh, Jacqui should SEE the way Rachel cuts fruit up for the kids, and she ALWAYS makes sure they eat ALL their vegetables. Why, that Rachel’s worth her weight in gold, she is.
Jacqui’s face takes on a guilty look, as she shuts the front door and leaves.
Dr Parr and Gaby the Grin leave the entrance to the flats and traipse down the Parade in the direction of the surgery. They walk slow to accommodate the time allotted to them for their conversation. Gaby the Grin whines that Dr Parr left without speaking to her that morning (so it must be near noon). She’s just no good without him, she pouts.
Dr Parr humours her, asking what he can do for her and giving her a hug.
Well, Gaby the Grin begins, there’s the matter of Marty Muddie. Does Dr Parr think Gaby the Grin was unfair on him?
No, snaps Dr Parr. Gaby the Grin tells Dr Parr that Marty accused her of being unfair.
Well, sighs Dr Parr, understandingly, poor Marty has a lot on his plate.
‘Now YOU’RE siding with him!’ Cries Gaby, sounding like one of the petulant posters on the Official Brookside forum.
No, Dr Parr reminds her, evenly, but Marty IS his patient. He offers to have a talk with Marty and ask him to not to give Gaby the Grin a hard time.
Oh, she’ll get plenty of that from the coroner’s inquest, quips Gaby.
Dr Parr jokes that he’’ll just have to go around there and slap their legs.
‘Be serious!’ Snaps Gaby, annoyed.
Dr Parr reminds her that she’s so brittle at the moment. He’s simply trying to loosen her up, crack some jokes. He suddenly abandons the attempt to lighten her and stomps toward the surgery, with poor Gaby the Grin following in his wake. She wants to have lunch, she wails forlornly.
Dr Parr reluctanly says yes - but first he has Mr Bennett’s haemorrhoids with which to deal. After that, he jokes, he’s all Gaby’s.
They exchange a kiss, with Gaby remarking that he really knows how to make a girl feel special.
Tim is visiing Steve at Sitcom House. As he enters the kitchen, he starts to tell Steve about this great book he’s reading - probably the first he’s ever read in his life of more than five pages. Steve isn’t listening, however. He’s annoyed and grabs The Manor Park Reporter and shoves it under Tim’s nose.
‘Look at dis!’ He exclaims. ‘Them re-PORRRRR-ters don’t know what dey’re talkin’ about!’ He reads from the article: ‘It’s not yet know whether the local man is on a paedophile list.’
Well, Marty’s not, Tim objects. He hasn’t done anything.
He doesn’t have to, Steve concurs. People remember the phrases ‘local man’ and ‘sex offenders list’ Marty’s been arrested, he’s been suspended from his job, and he can’t even see out of one eye.
Tim admits that such travails would do his head in.
Steve gesticulates toward the foyer. His dad is still in bed. Why, it’s not like him to be in bed this late.
Well, Tim admits, it DOES pass a boring day. Then he starts to talk about the book he’s reading again, about the Krays; but Steve stops him. It’s really best that Tim gets off, he says. Marty’s been very touchy lately. As Tim leaves, Steve bins the paper. (Er, I thought Marty had already seen this.)
Jimmy is getting a box of papers out of a cupboard and starts to rummage through them, as Tim returns, grabbing his book about the Krays.
It says here, Tim says, that the Krays got a lot of their training in the army.
Jimmy’s not listening. He’s looking for something in the messy box of papers. Ah, he exclaims, here’s a copy of the 1983 Mental Health Act. Well, yer can forget that, he swipes, he’s going to a better place.
Tim’s perusing his book, talking about an episode where one of the Krays chinned their corporal -but they were never charged, because the corporal didn’t know if the culprit were Reggie or Ronnie. Gee, muses Tim, it would be great to have a twin - double the aggro and all that.
Jimmy continues talking AT Tim, not hearing anything he says. He’s already been on the Internet, he says, looking for some good deals for Disney and all that - Universal, Busch Gardens, Sea World. Ah, just what he’s looking for! And he holds his passport aloft.
‘Florida, here I coom!’ Exclaims Jimmy. Ah, RLindsey is a real star. He tells Tim that if Tim ever has kids, he’d best want them to be just like Jimmy’s Lindsey - a trollope and a gangsta!
Tim admits that he’s as far away from kids as he is a decent wage.
Give it time, says Jimmy, approaching him and taking the book from Tim’s hands. He studies it. ‘The terrible twins,’ he muses. He tosses the book back to Tim and goes to the phone, talking to the lad over his shoulder. Oh, he knows Tim’s after ‘the big earner’ and Reg and Ronnie seem the right route to follow, but Tim wants to remember that neither twin saw the light of day after they were finally banged up.
Jimmy phones Helen and asks her to call around later. He has some news.
Ron Dixon, aided by Brigid, steps out onto Number 7’s doorstep. Ron’s having a running rant about Brigid’s dietary plans for him. He hates vegetables. Brigid replies, in a tone of voice often used to explain things to small children, that Ron NEEDS to eat more green vegetables.
More broccoli, yes, agrees Ron. Cabbage, no.
Brigid reminds Ron that they’re off to post Ron’s junk mail and then walk to the shops at the top of the road. Ron refuses.
But he CAN’T go to his hospital appointment, Brigid counters, and tell them that he’s only walked fifty yards!
Metres, Ron corrects Brigid, it’s METRES now.
Well, Brigid replies, SHE’S read his programme and it specifically calls for progressively longer walks. Ron might beat her on the cabbage contention, but not on the walks.
They finally manage to leave the doorstep and walk onto the street. OK, Ron sighs, he’ll go to the shops. But he wants to be back in time for Countdown (another free plug by Brookside for another Channel 4 programme. Seems to be all Brookside’s good for).
Brigid agrees readily. In fact, she might even beat Ron on the word game. After all, she says, she’s in the lead.
Dan and Rabbity Ruth slide and hop, respectively, onto the Close. Not long before it’s time to pick Luke up from school, Ruth snorks. Dan chides her, yet again, for worrying about the boy.
Luke needs proper arrangements, snaps Ruth, not the occasional phone call. (OK, silly bitch, then hop your arse down to a solicitor and make some arrangements. YOU’RE the one whingeing about wanting Sean to call). It hasn’t been much of a break for Ruth, she whinges, if she’s worried all the time. She hops briskly toward Bicker-Bicker House.
Well, it’s HIS job to make Ruth relax, Dan offers. (Yuck! Can you imagine anything more disgusting than having sex with Dan? Even Phiw Mitchell is more appetising).
Oooh, sniffs Ruth, her upper lip moving dangerously close to her offending nostrils, just what exactly has Dan got up his sleeve. (Oo-er, is he deformed too? Most men keep it in their trousers).
Dan takes up the banter, commenting on Ruth’s crude remark, saying what he has wasn’t up his sleeve. (I don’t reckon it’s up to much).
Over at Bar Brookie, Lance, booted and suited, is clearing tables. Bev, as per usual, watches. So, she speaks at last, what’s the deal with Lance and The Shelf?
Lance advises Bev that he’s only to be at The Shelf for ‘early doors’.
Bev reckons the place wiil be busy. Still, she sighs, it was good of Max to let him work for her at the bar.
Lance appears to be a bit morose. He can’t see it lasting for long, himself, he admits. After all, they’re moving into the busy season at The Shelf.
So, whines Bev, her face drooping, Lance won’t be able to work many hours at the bar?
Well, Lance confides, it IS a bit incestuous, working for the man and woman who own half The Parade. (Er, I thought Ian Lee owned the Parade?)
Oh, especially when Jacqui knows ALL about her private life, wails Bev. Jacqui’s ALWAYS asking her about how Josh is and who’s looking after Josh!
At least she’s taking an interest, Lance mutters, continuing with his work. Josh is the type of kid anyone takes an interest in sooner or later, he adds.
The undertaker will be the next one taking an interest in Josh, the way that kid’s going, declares Bev.
‘Josh is joost a kid,’ Lance assesses, sagely. ‘He needs a diversion or a hobby.’
She needs to get Josh something to do, agrees Bev.
Back at Hotel Corkhill, Tim is engrossed in studying his book about the Krays, when the doorbell rings. Book in hand and nose in book, Tim answers the door. It’s happy smiling fat-arsed fart-arsed Helen.
As she bounces and bobs into the Corkhill lounge, Jimmy, himself, bounces and bobs out to meet her. Hey, he begins, manically, he’s just had his Lindsey on the phone, and she’s only invited him to go with her to FLORIDA! Says the weather’s beautiful there!
As Helen expresses her amazement, Jerome enters. She pauses to ask if Jerome’ s working tonight.
Jerome smiles his typical field-hand’s grin. YOWSAH, Miss Helen, Ah needs all de money Ah kin git fer de weddin’, he replies.
Jimmy ignores the remark, instead, asking Helen how she fancies strolling along a beach and getting a ‘bronzy’. (Actually, Helen would fit in quite nicely with all the fat-arsed lard women populating white trash trailer parks.)
Helen’s eyes widen with disbelief, as Jimmy proceeds to invite her and Stephanie along on the holiday. (Er, sorry, but if Phil Redmond is going to be so persickity and correct, doesn’t he realise the government’s directive against taking children out of school term for prolonged holidays?)
(And didn’t Lindsey only offer to pay for JIMMY and Wills? Is Jimmy still on his med?)
After she finds her voice, Helen asks when he’s scheduled to leave.
The end of the week, Jimmy quips.
And Jimmy just expects her to drop everything? Helen asks.
That IS rather soon, Tim remarks.
What’s happened? Jerome wants to know, obviously unaware of the holiday plans.
Jimmy tells him that Lindsey’s invited him to Florida for a holiday.
Oh, nice, remarks Jerome - just the sort of place he and Nikki, both of whom purport to be skint, might like.
Get on the NET, urges Jimmy, frantically. Get some deals! Anyway, he continues, what about Helen going?
Helen looks a bit baffled by the manic onslaught and stammers that she doesn’t really want to take Steph out of school and she also has work.
Easy, snaps Jimmy. Helen should just ask her boss for time off. (Yeah, sure, just like that. And he’ll agree.)
Jimmy asks Jerome if their boss could spare Helen.
Well, Jerome replies evasively, that depends when.
The end of the week, snaps Jim, for three weeks.
Jeromes plastered smile fades.
Oh, that’s impossible, interjects Helen.
Nothing’s impossible, Jimmy insists, and suggests that he, who earns nothing and works no place, invites Helen to Bar Brookie to discuss the matter over lunch to try to change her mind.
As the couple leaves, slow-witted Jerome begins to think. If Jimmy’s gone for three weeks, he muses, aloud, that will almost certainly mean he’ll miss Jerome’s and Nikki’s wedding.
Tim, engrossed in his book, absently agrees.
Suddenly, Jerome smiles broadly.
The phone rings at Sitcom House and Steve answers it. He pauses, listening to the caller, before realising that it’s an abusive phone call. He asks if the caller has anything to do with the Cloughs, then tells the caller that Marty Muddie will see him in court and warns the caller not to threaten him.
Dan and Rabbity Ruth lie on the distinctly unhygenic mingy sofa having a noisy, slurpy, slimey, snotty snog. As Dan comes up for air, he remarks how much he loves this sort of thing.
‘Lying in one’s lover’s arms in the afternoon,’ muses Ruth, attempting to be poetic, but only succeeding in turning the remaining few intelligent viewers’ stomachs.
That’s part of it, admits Dan. But in all honesty, he continues, he’d rather they were on their own - no hassles or bother, just like it was when they first got together.
Well, Rabbity Ruth admits, at least Ma and Pa don’t get involved. (They wouldn’t dare). And when they moved abroad, they’d be away from the family. No more interference.
Dan asks if he’s managed to take Ruth’s mind off Luke, and she flirtatiously replies that he has, a little.
Then he still has a job to do, exclaims Dan, as both of them jump up. They take their tops off, Dan to reveal a sickening, white, slug-like torso, and Ruth to reveal that she’s wearing the ubiquitous black bra that seems to be the underwear uniform for ALL females on Brookside, Brigid included. They run upstairs.
(Sorry, I have to pause here. WERE ANY OF YOU BORED BY THIS TOTALLY USELESS SCENE? I WAS. IT’S SHITE!!!!!!!!!!)
Guess what? Dr Parr and Gaby the Grin are - you guessed it- having lunch in the bar. That’s the only place they can get a decent meal, as Gaby seems to only be able to prepare raw lettuce. Gaby the Grin is still worried about Marty.
Dr Parr reminds her that she wasn’t at the actual meeting where the governors decided to suspend Marty. Lance serves them coffee.
Marty hasn’t exactly taken that on board, argues Gaby. He thinks of the governors as one lot collectively.
Marty Muddie, snorts Dr Parr, another man whose life Gaby’s ruined, by not attending a meeting.
Gaby is wallowing in self-pity. Bad luck seems to follow her around, she wails - Rob Dexter, his suicide, the inquest, now this.
Well, how AWFUL of Gaby not to have attended that meeting, observes Dr Parr. He continues, snappishly. That’s Marty Muddie dealt with. He assumes Item 2 on the agenda is themselves.
Gaby the Grin looks uneasy. Maybe they’ve been trying to hard to avoid talking about things that matter, she admits.
A look of fright crosses Dr Parr’s countenance. He’s all for bringing things out into the open, he stammers.
OK, says Gaby, taking a deep breath. She thinks they should try for a baby.
Dr Parr looks gob-smacked.
Steve pays a visit to Hotel Corkhill to find Tim and Jerome on their own. Jerome, who surely MUST remember the circumstances surrounding Timily’s wedding, asks Tim if rental of the church was expensive.
Tim wouldn’t know, the lad replies. He and Emily went to the registry office.
All Jerome can see before him is spending money, he whines.
Steve suggests that Jerome and Nikki get a prenuptial agreement.
Yeah, jokes Jerome, as they’d only have to argue about divvying up the computer (what computer? Do Nikki and Jerome own a computer?), and the video club membership card.
Get a dog and fight over that, suggests Tim.
A gerbil, says Jerome, they couldn’t afford a dog. His mobile rings. It’s Nikki and Jerome leaves the room to take a call.
Tim notices that Steve looks wuddied and asks if he’s allright. Steve admits that he just received an abusive phone call from one of the Cloughs.
What did they say? Tim asks.
Steve says that they only threatened the Muddie family, if they didn’t drop the charges against the brothers.
What does Steve want to do? Asks Tim.
What does Tim think he wants to do? Asks Steve, rhetorically.
Tim grabs his jacket, which is conveniently nearby. ‘Well, whaddayer waitin’ fer?’ He declares.
Ron’s sitting stolidly on the sofa at Number, whilst Brigid stands over him, like a dominatrix, wielding the television magazine. She has to nip out, she tells Ron, authoritatively. Now ... Ron has the choice of watching the end of How Green was My Valley or ... And here she stops to ooze a bit ... Pillow Talk with Doris Day.
Oooh Doris Day, enthuses Ron, lecherously. She was only one of his favourites.
And the divine Rock Hudson, gushes Brigid.
Ron’s face drops a mile. Oh, well, that’s that then. No can do.
But, Brigid protests, Rock Hudson was wonderful in that film.
That’s just it, reasons Ron. Rock Hudson had them ALL cheated, didn’t he? Let them think he was a real man’s man, Ron mutters, when all along he was ... For Men!
Brigid understands and struggles to avoid smiling at Ron’s discomfiture. What’s wrong with that? Asks the newly-tolerant Brigid.
‘Well,’ Ron explains, his voice raising an octave, ‘yer can’t have a fella bein’ all - MANLEY and then findin’ out he’s -,’ Ron minces. ‘YOU know,’ he finishes awkwardly. And HE wasn’t the only one - there was Gary Cooper, Dirk Bogarde, Randolph Scott - all me cowboy heroes!’ He makes a moue of disgust.
‘Well, why not say it , then?’ Suggests Brigid. ‘They were gay.’
Ron shakes his head vehemently. He can’t, he chokes ... Because it’s THEIR word now, isn’t it? Why, Ron remembers a time when GAY used to mean ‘happy and cheerful’. Ron’s own parents used to say that about him.
Brigid stifles a smile as Ron witters on.
So, she ventures to speak, Ron was a gay child? At that moment, the doorbell rings and Brigid rushes to answer it, as Ron continues to rant.
He remembers a teacher asking him once to describe himself.
‘’Me?’,; Ron reminisces. ‘Why, I’m a gay boy, Miss.’
Brigid laughs.
‘So there’ll be no watchin’ Rock Hoodson in this house,’ Ron declares, as Jacqui pokes her head around the door, intrigued at the laughter.
‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ assures Brigid, gathering her bag to leave. ‘Your father was just telling me about being gay as a lad.’
As she breezes out, Ron is horrified.
It’s lunchtime at Bar Brookie and no surprises for the fact that Dr Parr and Gaby the Grin are eating there, yet again - I mean, don’t these people have a home? Also there, are the unemployed Jimmy Corkhill and happy smiling fatarsed fartarsed Helen. Jimmy MUST have some money because she’s built like a Sherman tank and must have the appetite of a gargantua.
Jimmy is trying to talk Helen into accompanying him on the holiday to Florida - presumably at Lindsey’s expense. Helen demurs. If he could wait until the summer (when all the prices go up, naturally), then MAYBE Helen will have the money saved.
Jimmy waves aside all her concerns. No wuddy about that, he says grandly, Lindsey will pay for EVERYTHING! (Gee, I wanna be the manager of a health club in Geordieland. They must make an absolute mint!) Jimmy takes a gander at the astrology page of the local paper. Hey, look! He exclaims to Helen. His stars are oop.
Helen remarks sniffily that she didn’t realise Jimmy was into that sort of thing. (Note: Whilst Jimmy’s eating salad, Helen’s stuffing her face with masses of chips, the fat tart).
Oh, aye, Jimmy gobbles. His life’s going well at the moment, with this holiday and Nikki asking him to give her away.
Helen looks discomfited at this last remark. Lowering her eyes, she quips that Nikki must be fond of Jimmy. Jimmy leans over and dorkily kisses Helen’s fat, dimpled arm. (Yeschk! Hasten, Jason, pass the basin! I’m going to be sick). He has to make sure Helen gets an invitation to the wedding, he says. He doesn’t want Helen to miss his father-of-the-bride speech.
When is the happy event? Asks Helen.
October 19th, says Jimmy, without thinking.
Won’t he be in Florida then? Purrs Helen.
Jimmy suddenly realises that this is true.
Dr Parr and Gaby the Grin finish their meal and leave the bar, walking along The Parade, wrapped around each other. Gaby’s trying to explain to him her sudden decision to have a baby. It’s just bringing their plans forward a bit, she says.
Dr Parr muses about this suggestion for awhile. He had always thought they had decided to leave children until they were in their thirties.
Gaby admits that it was she who pushed for that, because of her career. But, in truth, her career isn’t really a career; and she only enjoys it 40 per cent of the time. A baby might make her more content, as she knows she’s not been the best of company lately. Dr Parr laughs.
A baby would put everything into perspective, says Gaby, quoting some psychological hocum-pocum. It would make THEM complete.
On a dingy street on a council estate, Steve and Tim sit and wait in Steve’s car. It’s parked slightly down the road from what is obviously the Clough house. Strange, because the last time we saw the Clough house, when Antony hit Imelda with an iron bar, it was in a neat, tidy neighbourhood.
Tim wonders aloud if the Cloughs will recognise them. Steve replies surlishly that he doesn’t care if they recognise HIM.
‘This is just like Reggie and Ronnie,’ says Tim, enthusiastically.
‘Who?’ Asks Steve.
‘The Kray twins,’ says Tim. (Surprising that such enterprising, young Scouse thugs should emulate and admire two ‘soft South’ Eastenders. See ... Even THEN the Eastend was superior). ‘They never wore masks. They always made sure people saw’em - and gave’em respect.’
Steve mutters that he doesn’t care about respect. He just wants the Cloughs to leave his family alone.
Nikki dashes into Hotel Corkhill, laden with wedding magazines. Jerome is already there, with a cup of tea. Nikki starts oozing about wedding dresses, and Jerome starts to whinge.
Look at all this tripe Nikki’s brought in, he fusses. Why, they couldn’t afford magazines, let alone a wedding dress! (Well, what the fuck are they getting married for?)
Oh, she got these from Emily’s salon, Nikki says, nonchalantly, opening one of the magazines. She shows him the wedding dress worn by Heather Mills, the one-legged liar who’s married to Paul McCartney (and who got reprimanded for not publicising the designers of the dress who gave it her free for publicity, the lying whore). Nikki likees this dress, she says. It would do her.
Well, Jerome mutters, if he could write songs like Lennon and McCartney, he might buy it for her.
Nikki’s not sure about wearing a wedding dress or a suit, and Jerome waxes lyrical about getting a 2:1 degree, a good job and sorting out his student loan. (Yeah, sure).
Jerome’s got it all figured, Nikki says, admiringly. She suggests that they wed in a registry office. Jerome says he’s already looked into that, and Nikki further suggests that perhaps they can arrange to have their wedding AND reception at at hotel, and the premises might do them a deal. (Er, sorry ... But with all this talk of being skint and wedding on a shoestring - isn’t MARGI paying for this lot?)
That would be too expensive, Jerome tells her. His mother, Vonnie, the supermodel, looked into that idea. Just now, however, Jerome says, he’s off to meet his mother in order to buy a suit for the wedding.
Nothing too lush, Nikki jokes. She doesn’t want him upstaging her. Suddenly, an idea occurs to Nikki. How about having the reception either at Hotel Corkhill or the bungalow?
Jerome refuses categorically.
Well, where then? Nikki wails.
What about Bar Brookie? Jerome suggests.
No, whines Nikki. She works there.
Well, Jerome suggests, maybe she could get a deal off Jacqui. Oh, and by the way, Jerome adds as a parting shot. He’s got some bad news. Jimmy’s on holiday for three weeks from Friday, so there’s no chance he’ll be able to make the wedding.
Nikki’s face falls a mile.
Dr Parr and Gaby the Grin now stand in front of the surgery. Dr Parr reluctantly agrees to starting a family, but he wants Gaby to promise that there’ll be no thermometers and no charts in their family planning. AND, he adds, he has something for her. Reaching into his pocket, he hands her a prescription.
Gaby reads. It calls for tiger prawns every day and is a prescription for one holiday in the Maldives at Christmas. Gaby’s suitably impressed.
Dr Parr kisses her lightly on the forehead and remarks that Gaby’s had too many pressures in her head of late. In the background, we see Max arrive and traipse across the Parade from the direction of the Close.
Dr Parr suggests that Gaby the Grin start dealing with these pressures by trying to get Marty Muddie reinstated in his job, via a special meeting of the Board of Governors. They kiss and Gaby darts off for a word with Max.
Jacqui sits on the sofa by Ron, munching a biscuit. She asks Ron how he’s getting on with Brigid.
Brigid? Says Ron. Oh, OK ... She has all the characteristics of a trained nurse, he remarks.Gentle touch, competent bedside manner, but - and he holds up a biscuit - she goes through his custard creams like yoghurt through a dog. And he grabs another biscuit from Jacqui’s grasp. Jacqui grabs it back.
Ron’s NOT to have biscuits, she scolds, because they’re fattening.
That’s what Brigid says! Exclaims Ron in dismay.
‘Yer know, Dad,’ begins Jacqui, ‘you make it sound like Brigid’s givin’ yer a really hard time of it, boottt yer’d be lost without her.’
‘Maybe,’ Ron mutters, reluctantly.
‘"Maybe" means "yes",’ observes Jacqui, ‘Joos’ like I’d be lost without Rachel.’
‘Have yer not got rid of her yet?’ Ron enquires.
Jacqui shakes her head despondently. ‘Rachel’s good,’ she whines, ‘and she’s so nice.’
‘That’s not enough, love,’ Ron explains, patiently. ‘The truth is our Michael and Rachel are suited to each other. They’ve no real ambition.’ He sometimes thinks his entrepreneurial skills skipped Mike entirely and went to Jacqui instead.
Where is Mike? Asks Jacqui, looking around.
Ron shrugs. Talking up some hotel in Sefton about doing the laundry, Ron says dismissively. But knowing MIke, he adds, the hotel will probably end up doing RON’S laundry.
Just how is she supposed to give her sister-in-law the boot? Jacqui wants to know.
Maybe Max should do it, Ron suggests, gently.
No, says Jacqui decisively, when it comes to do the deed, it will definitely have to come from her.
Now Max and Gaby the Grin are walking along the Parade, which is what everyone seems to do around there. A cast of streetwalkers! They’re discussing Marty Muddie. If the governors rescind their decision, Max reasons, they’ll all look weak.
They’ll look fair-minded, Gaby urges him.
They’ll look muddled, Max corrects her.
A member of staff has been treated unfairly, Gaby argues, therefore a special meeting of the governors should be convened.
Max hedges. Why not wait until the next meeting? He asks, with a whine in his voice.
Gaby is offended. Why, she thought Max would prove to be radical, with a lot of new ideas! He’s really just like all the other old duffers! Just like George! If this carries on much farther, she threatens, she’ll do something, herself.
As they talk, Jacqui appears along the Parade. Noticing the tete-a-tete, she asks if Gaby’s OK.
It’s just governors’ business, Max tells her, as she disappears into the Health Club. Max follows her. Has Jacqui spoken to Rachel yet? He asks.
Not yet, says Jacqui, but she will.
Dan Dan the Slimy Paste-ball Man is changing the oil in one of the many Gordon vehicles when Rabbity Ruth and Luke the bunny hop into view. Ruth’s been to collect Luke from school on this rare occasion. As they pass, Dan politely asks if Luke had a good day at school.
Luke replies, ‘Yes, thank you.’
Dan comments on the boy’s beautiful manners. He obviously gets them from Ruth’s side of the family, he remarks.
Ruth preens under the compliment. Well, she snidely adds, they’re not from his dad. (Actually, I beg to differ. Considering the fact that Ruth’s brothers are ill-mannered, rude, little thugs, I’d say that Luke’s manners are probably being taught him by his teacher.)
Ruth tells Dan that Luke’s teacher told her Luke was half an hour late for school that morning.
Oh, that’s Sean, sneers Dan. He told her Sean was unreliable. And this will happen more and more as Luke spends more time with Sean.
Sat in Steve’s car, Steve and Tim watch for any sign of the Clough brothers. Suddenly, Paul Olivier Clough emerges from the house and walks down the street away from the car. Steve makes a motion to get out of the car, but Tim stops him. It’s important to stay a distance in the car, he says, and follow Paul Olivier Clough.
Back at Hotel Corkhill, Jimmy’s still trying to find a way for happy smiling fatarsed fartarsed Helen to accompany him to Florida - even if it means that Lindsey would have to book two extra seats to accommodate her. He’s also wuddied about missing Nikki’s wedding. He reckons he’s found the perfect solution, he cries.
He’ll only ring Lindsey and tell her to put back the date of the holiday. (Yeah, sure - like people can just do that free of charge. Is this man a buffoon? Discuss).
But Lindsey’s already bought the tickets, Helen reasons.
Jimmy will do no sooch thing, Dr Nikki cries, nobly. In fact, SHE has the perr-fect solution. She’ll simply put her wedding back until such a time as when Jimmy’s returned.
But Nikki can’t do that! Protests the Sage, equally as nobly.
Oh, but Dr Nikki WANTS Jimmy to give her away. Didn’t you know? That’s the only reason she’s maddying Jerome.
A very sceptical look crosses Helen’s face.
Won’t Jerome mind? Jimmy asks.
He’ll be cool about it, Nikki replies, smugly, as if Jerome is secondary to this whole procedure. He’ll just have to wait awhile longer to put a ring on her finger, she adds. And Dr Nikki and the Sage exchange a momentous hug, much to Helen’s chagrin.
Isn’t Nikki great? Jimmy exudes to Helen, expecting her to share his opinion. Helen only smiles a sickly smile in response, suddenly remembering that she has a daughter to whom she owes a responsibility.
Jimmy escorts her to the door. Helen is acting coldly toward him.
Jimmy promises to see her before he leaves. Helen says she’ll try to get around.
They can plan their Christmas together when he returns, Jimmy promises, but Helen provese reticent. She tries to leave, but Jimmy pulls her back, reminding her that she forgot to kiss him.
Tim and Steve follow Paul Olivier Clough at a distance in the car, as the lad walks down the street. Suddenly, they stop the car, jump out and give chase, as Clough realises he’s being followed. Clough tries to deflect them by shoving a wheelie bin in their direction, but they catch him and slam him against a wall. There’s a lot of shouting.
‘LEAVE ME FAMILY ALONE!’ Screams Steve.
‘YER SCOOM!’ Shrieks Paul Olivier Clough. ‘YER AL’FELLA’S A PAEDO!’ And he spits derisively. Breaking free, he runs away, but super Steve and Tim soon catch him. As Tim holds him by the collar of his jacket, Paul Clough asks who Tim is. (The answer: His real-life cousin).
‘Me?’ Joshes Tim. ‘I’m HIS minder,’ he nods toward Steve. ‘And I’m ten times werrrrse than him.’
‘LEAVE OOS ALONE ER I’LL DO YER!’ Shouts Steve. He promises to ‘do’ Paul now and then come back for his kid brother and to wreck the Clough house.
If the Cloughs want war, this is it, Tim promises. Is he listening.
Then get Marty Muddie to drop the assault charges, Clough replies through gritted teeth.
He’s MAD! Exclaims Steve. If any of the Muddy family gets hurt, even if it’s not by Clough’s hands, he’ll come after him. He wants Clough to know that Clough could get done for threatening a witness.
‘And YOU’LL get doon fer assault!’ Shouts Clough.
Tim puts his face close to Clough’s, smacks him lightly on the cheek and whispers, ‘Listen ... DON’T take liberties.’
They release Clough and he runs away.
Tim and Steve walk back to the car.
‘"Don’t take liberties"?’ Quotes Steve in amazement, laughing. ‘Where’s that from?’
‘The Bible,’ laughs Tim.
Rabbity Ruth and Dan stand in the Gordon drive, watching the po-faced Luke ride aimlessly in circles on his bike. They talk to the boy as he rides around in circles. Luke says that his daddy was funny last night.
Ruth asks what ‘Daddy’ did that was funny.
He fell over, replies Luke, seriously.
Poor Daddy, says Ruth.
AND he broke a table, informs Luke. Then they slept on the couch.
Ruth looks puzzled. Why did they do that? She asks.
Luke replies that he couldn’t wake his father up.
Ruth and Dan exchange horrified looks. OMIGOD! Sean was DRINKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ruth asks Luke if Daddy had been drinking. Luke, the little snitch, solemnly nods and rides off on his bike.
Ruth is highly indignant, especially as Dan radges her by saying that Sean is doing this to get back at her and to try to be with her. (Makes sense, eh?)
Well, Luke is NOT going to Sean again, announces Ruth, with finality. He can forget a couple of times a week. He’ll be lucky to see him for a couple of hours!
Maurice Bessman wrote this. Even then, he’d given up.
Summary © 2002 Marion Watts
Brookside and all related materials are © Mersey Television 1982-2002