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This week's update was written by Janet Waterhouse, Glenda was on holiday
Greetings everyone once again! It's a pleasure to be back in the Corrie
chair. I notice that the chocolate and caramel stains from Glenda's weekly
Tunnocks binge have gone. I've just checked and there is lots of red wine
... enough to see me through this report, anyway! So, having poured myself
a slurp or two in the new pint wineglass I received for Christmas (don't you
just love it when someone hits on exactly the right gift - cheers, Rachel!),
we're off.
First of all, let's discuss the storyline that's already left me feeling as
cold as poor old Tommy. For me, the only saving grace is Angela. In a
cracking performance, she was absolutely convincing as the matriarch who may
have lost her husband, but by God, she'll save her family. Craig is blaming
Tommy's death on his sister bringing "Pervie Platt" into their lives whilst,
to be honest, I kept wondering which evil producer had wired Katy up to the
mains - in this week's episodes she keeps shaking like she's being
electrocuted. I was also distracted by some interesting extra casting
choices: one of the lady coppers looks like she's Cilla's long lost cousin,
the other like Posh Spice's nourished sister.
Hayley pops round to see how Angela is doing and offer her sympathies. The
Stench of Death is fair booming down the stairs, so Ange bounds up them to
order the volume down (again). Hayley looks around for something to do and
her eyes alight on the freshly laundered clothing which she starts to fold.
Shaky Harris comes down the stairs and starts screaming, afraid that Hayley
will spot the blood (not to worry, Angela used her Oxyclean so no stains
remain).
The police are literally on their hands and knees searching for clues whilst
hair samples, DNA swabs and fingerprints are being taken from the Harris
family. As they question each of the neighbours in turn, Sally is so eager
to divert attention away from her illicit affair with the dodgy car dealer
that she practically shoves them in Martin's direction. Predictably, he is
now their chief suspect, as just after he declares that he could never hurt
a fly, the police show the video footage of Martin viciously kicking Karl
Thingy in the hospital corridor (never a pleasant experience at any time).
It seems like a good idea to Angela, too. She now tries to twist Katy's
mind to blame the whole series of events on Martin.
For the Platt family, it's bringing back bad memories of Richard Hillman.
Gail is too caught up in believing that she has lousy luck in choosing
husbands to think clearly and comfort an absolutely distraught David. It's
up to Audrey to set things out objectively. I must have really have had
trouble concentrating on this storyline as my notes here say: "Gail's hair
looking lovely - does she go to the precinct to get it done?"
Audrey takes David to the police station, much to Martin's dismay - he's on
the point of giving in and pleading guilty. Gail goes to offer condolences
to the Harrises. Katy turns on her shouting that the real reason Gail
hasn't gone to seen Martin is that she knows he killed Tommy. Horrified,
Gail gasps "No!" as she quickly backs out the door. The mains connection
has obviously been broken, leaving Katy to slide down the wall sobbing
"Martin killed my dad!" However, after a night's sleep she realises that
she and Angela have set Martin up. D'oh! Things don't improve much when
Tommy's mum shows up in a throw-away scene.
Martin is finally released, in tears from the shock of it all, leaving Katy
to throw the switch again and shiver that the bobbies are coming for her
next. Angela now has to convince the police it was someone else and pulls
out a phone number to go back into the witness protection programme.
Gail provides tea but not much sympathy as she tells Martin it's like
Richard has come back. "No, Gail, it's me, Martin" and pulls out his
clothes tags to prove it. "It was your other husband who was a murdering
murder from Murderville."
Everyone is taking unexpected death badly, particularly Sean ... though he
is not actually mourning Tommy. He is distraught over the passing of
Shandy, the pooch he shared with his ex. Louis, who had retained custody,
looked like a boxer who had bellied up to the ring just one time too many
but was in fact a hypnotist (remember this bit for later) and part-time
scaffolder. I must confess that Sean and Eileen are two of my favourite
double-acts, particularly when she keeps sending him bemused looks such as
those at the puppy's funeral. I thought that the yellow crysanths that
spelled out his name hit the right spot, was giggling when the rubber bones
were thrown on top of the coffin and almost wet myself with laughter when
Sean began singing "You came and you gave without taking and I need you
today, oh Shandy"!
Later on in the pub after they raise a shandy to Shandy, Louis hypnotises
Eileen to cure her from constantly eating crisps, prompting Sean to think of
a cunning plan to help relieve the pain of his loss. Louis is meeting up
with Jason to cure his fear of heights but Sean wants him to implant the
notion that he (Jason) fancies him (Sean). Violet is fair apoplectic at the
thought of her boyfriend being brainwashed, but Sean tells her that at least
it will improve his dress sense before agreeing to call it off.
Unfortunately he can't get in touch with Louis.
A few minutes later (or maybe not - it's been very hard to gain a sense of
time this week. Just as we were commenting that the day following Tommy's
death was perhaps being filmed in real time like "24", up popped Gail and
David to complain that Martin had been held in police custody for days),
Jason arrives, gazes doe eyed at Sean, squeezes his knee and sings "Can't
Get You Out of My Head" (my husband and Patrick next door gaze doe eyed
themselves murmuring "Ahhh ... Kylie!" whenever the video comes on the telly
though they are quick to assure me that it has nothing to do with that white
outfit she is almost wearing). There's something about Sean in a dodgy wig,
or it could just be his face implanted on a Kylie poster, but regardless,
Louis is beginning to grow on me and I think I can quite understand how Sean
fell for him.
Life is not all sunshine and roses in the Barlow residence. Ken is sullen
and resentful that his wedding has been cancelled and none too secure that
Deirdre will choose him over Ray. Given his sulking, I wouldn't! Since Ray
hasn't taken any of the hints, Tracy thinks perhaps she's been a bit too
subtle (about as subtle as a smack on the head with a monkey wrench, I would
have said). In very nicely enunciated tones, Blanche (reject from the
diplomatic corps that she is) gets there first, bangs on Emily's door and
warns Ray to "sling yer 'ook". Tracy steps into stop the slanging match
and, just when he thinks she is warming up to him, she tells him to crawl
off into the woods and die like all injured animals. Guess that's one dad
who won't be receiving a Father's Day card. Take my advice, Ray luv, only
two words will really break down the barriers: your will.
Spotting smoke circles out in the ginnel, Ken pops some rubbish into the
wheelie bin and begins to lecture Ray on deserting his daughter. And this
from a man who has sent all of his natural children to be raised in Scotland
(no offence meant to those north of Hadrian's Wall)? When was the last time
we saw Daniel, son of the hairdresser, nor even heard of Ken going to visit
him? Surely he could have managed to find the time to stop by when taking
his grandson to/from school? Ray throws Ken's sprogs "littered across the
country" and numerous affairs back in his face.
However, through admiring Amy and contemplating that Steve seems smitten
with his daughter, Ray seems as though he is starting to get under Tracy's
skin, but not totally as she begins to give him grief over not being there
when she grew up. Pot kettle black comes to mind - Amy is only part of
Tracy's life because she gave the Croppers the money back and dumps the
babby on half the neighbourhood. But, true to form, the temper returns and
she smacks him across the face. When Deirdre hears, she's round there to
check if he's OK.
Sharing a smoke, Ray admits that he may have walked out the door, but
Deirdre walked out on their marriage long before then. Funny how a little
thing like your husband sleeping with another woman can change the way you
view your life together. As Deirdre starts crying (and I can't tell you how
much I loathe her crying scenes, though I don't get the screaming jeebies
like him indoors whenever he sees that clip of Deirdre and Dev in bed,
post-coital bliss), she tells him that it was another lifetime ago and that
she's changed. Well, for starters, she's slept with 342 different men since
then (there must be something attractive I don't see about big spec's) but
she conveniently forgets her most recent husband (Samir) when she tells Ray
that she's been with Ken for the last 20 years.
Ray almost broke my heart when he started to cry, apologising for
everything. They share a brief hug whilst Ken, of course, chooses that
exact moment to make his stand known. "Go, wimpo!" came from the other side
of our living room whilst I shook my head as Ken displayed that he has
absolutely no knowledge of the workings of the female mind.
Meanwhile on the other side of the street, Candice is getting upset that
Warren hasn't stayed at her's for over a week. Mind, she knows nothing
about the hundred quid wager Danny has made with both of his lads and is
beginning to think that he might have another dolly bird. When Jamie spots
Candice and Warren snogging, he's beginning to think he'll be quids in till
Warren comes to his senses and quickly pulls away with a mumbled excuse
about having to see to his car. His own engine, more like.
Candice confides her fears to Frankie (and for viewers in the UK who also
watched Comic Relief Does Fame Academy, doesn't Debra Stephenson have a
lovely singing voice?) who reveals the bet. Warren is, like, so dumped!
But not before she teases him into a frenzy, obviously.
Looking like she stepped out of an episode of Footballer's Wives, Candice
models her newly purchased bikini that she wonders might be too skimpy.
After their lips finally pull apart, Warren advises that she's probably
over-dressed and suggests they nip upstairs. Candice retorts that she
can't, she has to take her hairdressing seriously if she wants to get ahead.
Just as Warren realises the game is up and begins to apologise, in walk the
rest of the family plus Leanne. Danny is just a bit too pleased to see
Candice, leaving Frankie annoyed over the amount of drool ruining her
carpets and Leanne wondering why Jamie is so happy. Upon hearing the
explanation, Leanne sniffs that she hadn't actually noticed lack of, you
know IT, and that she could easily adopt celibacy as a way of life.
Finally, we end on my favourite storyline of the week ... Cilla receives
several postcards from Yana (who used Schmeicel's ransom funds to go away on
hols), describing unsavoury acts with stuffed olives and semi-soft grated
cheese somewhere on a Greek island. Naturally, this prompts Cilla to demand
(and arrange) a holiday away from all the doom and gloom. Well, to be fair,
she does have a point: they do live across the street from not one but two
murder scenes plus, by my reckoning, attempts on no less than eight other
individuals (assorted Alahans, Platt/Hillmans, Roberts and Bishops) ... and
that's in roughly two years!
Cilla tries to butter up Fizz with a hot dog, but the latter is well aware
that her mother is devoid of any maternal instincts and rejects both the
food and the suggestion that she look after Chesney whilst Cilla gives Les
the holiday he's "been gagging for". Fizz leaves the caff with a strong
warning not to leave Chesney home alone again. Cilla turns on the crocodile
tears in front of kind-hearted Roy, whimpering "Do you have any idea what
it's like to keep two grown men and a Great Dane satisfied?" whilst a
perplexed Roy confesses that he does not (however, it does remind me of a
dinner party I went to where a clerk in a solicitor's office regaled us with
work stories, including the one about a woman who was divorcing her husband
because in order to feel, you know THAT way, he used to make her and the
family dog dress up in Nazi uniforms. Absolutely true and a lesson for us
all, particularly if you are a single woman living in Toronto. However, I
digress). Roy suggests camomile tea and yoga, both of which Cilla dismisses
immediately. Thank heavens for small mercies! I had visions of Cilla in a
leotard looking like 10 pounds of potatoes shoved into a 5 pound bag.
No, she needs a holiday and if she could only find someone on whom she could
dump ... ermm ... trust with her precious lad. "Oh, I don't know," begins
Roy. "Perhaps Hayley could think of some..." whereupon Cilla jumps up,
covers his mouth with her paw, telling him he's a saint whilst he tries to
protest through her clenched fist that that's not what he was going to say!
A few hours later, she drops him off claiming that there was a last minutes
cancellation at a retreat in Wales where the clientele are beaten with
sticks (no, it doesn't appeal to me, either!) and she'll need to get a move
on to get to the air... ermmm ... the lovely fresh mountain air. Hayley has
her sussed, but takes Ches in anyway - not that she has much choice as Cilla
has already scarpered out the door.
Sweet little Ches wants to help out; as his mum says, it's only fair that he
should pull his weight around the house. Having woken his Uncle Roy to
locate the teabags in order to make him and Auntie Hayley a cuppa, he's
eager to continue his normal routine of hoovering before school, leaving the
washing and ironing till he gets back along with a couple of hours in the
caff. However, Uncle Roy is having none of it. They are supposed to be
looking after him, beginning with a nice boiled egg with soldiers. When Roy
provides bacon as well, Ches thinks he's died and gone to heaven!
Hayley is finding some of Chesney's stories about life chez Battersby a bit
far-fetched, particularly the one about having to warm up the toilet seat
for Les with a hot water bottle (though, having spent a winter or two in
Canada, I found that bit all too believeable!). However, Roy is convinced
it's just the tip of the iceberg. Me, I can hardly wait for more
revelations! Meanwhile, the Croppers plan to spoil the little tyke with
family values, good loving, proper meals plus his own little bag and keys on
a string. Roy smiles beatifically as he ponders which video to choose for
family viewing. I hope it's not on steam engines as I still get a lump in
my throat whenever I hear Ringo starring as the conductor. Hayley suggests
something along the lines of Shrek and not a wildlife documentary, but Roy
believes it should be something that the whole family can enjoy.
As they settle down with popcorn, Ches bursts into tears. He loves it with
the Croppers, but he really misses Schmeicel whom he hasn't seen in days.
Relieved that it's a problem easily resolved, Auntie Hayley and Uncle Roy
agree that he can come and stay, too.
Schmeicel loves the Croppers too, but Uncle Roy is not terribly keen on
being slobbered on nor on having the dog sleep on Chesney's bed as it is not
hygienic. "I'll shower" cries Chesney. Roy is forced to tell his childhood
story of how Geoffrey the Gerbil was gobbled down by next door's dog whilst
Roy tried to prise him out of its mouth. This prompted horrible flashbacks
at the circus when the lion tamer went to put his head in the animal's
mouth, leaving us to contemplate big dog, small animal, hunting instincts,
empty wheel, traumatised child.
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