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Scummy mummy Gail Platt starts parenting classes on the advice of her family counsellor after only Gail turns up for the psycho-sessions at home. A big fella with 'Steve' on a label (Avery L7163) stuck on his jumper asks the small group at the class to make a sound expressing exactly how they feel. He takes the lead with an expressive sort of yawn and then asks Gail to go for it, to do her stuff, make her noise. Her face tells you she wishes she was somewhere else entirely (although perhaps not in the passenger seat of a car plunging into the canal) as the noise I’d expect a cat to make if it was having its tadger chopped off, starts to enter the room. She then has to harangue one of the group members as if he were David, letting rip of all her emotions and pent up frustrations onto this er, volunteer, telling him everything she wishes she could tell David. But when it gets to the bit where she’s saying “.. and I’m sorry I brought the murdered into your life…” Steve the label man sits Gail down firmly in her chair and backs of, a bit scared.
It’s Jack’s 70th birthday and he wants no fuss so Vera packs her bags and sets off for a girly trip to Amsterdam with Molly and Fiz. After they’ve gone, Tyrone and Kirk drag Jack to the Rovers where they’ve got a stripper booked. When the lights go out in the pub, in walks Vera with a cake, she hadn’t gone away after all and the stripper heads in just as Kirkeh chucks her out before Vera finds out. Everyone raises their glasses in a birthday toast but Jack insists the toast goes to both of them, to Vera and Jack. Glasses up! To Vera and Jack!
Ken’s had enough of Norris’ bickering and bitching in the Kabin: “You make Mussolini look like Mary Poppins!” he yells before walking out, leaving Norris to struggle with the People’s Friend and sherbet dib-dabs all by himself. Blanche helps out when Norris needs what he called a comfort break but we know he went to the loo. While he’s up there, Blanche helps herself to free fudge and then Emily helps him until Rita returns. Speaking of Rita, she’s still in Hungary with her foot up, itching for an Eccles cake. Hungry in Hungary, by all accounts.
Bill takes Audrey for a night at the dogs and the two of them share pork scratchings and pints before heading back to ‘his place’ (that’ll be Kev and Sally’s front room then?). As Bill fumbles in the Webster’s back yard for his door key, he bends over and Audrey, not one to miss an opportunity, nips his bum! This was a wonderful touch, which Sophie spies from her bedroom window and Bill says he’ll give her a fiver if she’ll keep schutm. As Bill leads Audrey into the house, the two of them snog by the Webster’s back entry. He then heads back to Germany after kissing Audrey in the snug and she leaves for Canada to see son Steven.
Becky bursts into Roy’s Rolls, all fag end and dog rough. She wants Hayley to give her a reference for a job, a request that Hayley’s too scared to refuse and Roy runs up the stairs for a pen and some paper as quick as you like, wanting Becky done with and away. When Norris and Blanche spy Becky outside the café, they tell the factory girls the news and Kelly’s not best pleased. She storms round just in time to see Hayley and Becky getting on the Weatherfield Wayfarer en route to the adult literacy class Hayley’s teaching to Becky and other assorted ex-offenders.
Liz and Steve take over the Rovers and it’s all systems go, the boat’s pushed out with a lock-in and there’s free drinks all round. Liz wants to sack Michelle but Steve wants to keep her. The one thing they can agree on is that Bev has to go. She’s still drinking at the end of the bar, glass in one hand, fondling Fred’s urn with the other. Steve tells Bev she has to move out as Michelle and son Ryan are moving in, away from their hovel of a home. It’s a lie of course and it finds its way back to Steve who gets the evil eye from Liz, Michelle and an exasperated Eileen, fresh from being welded into her seat at a hard shift in Streetcars. Steve eyeballs the lot of them with: “What? What have I done now, eh?” Betty’s been in the Rovers long enough to see landlords and landladies come and go, and sometimes come back. She’ll cope with Liz and Steve like she’s coped with the rest of them by doing what she does best – she has a right good moan. This time it’s about putting pot-pourri in the ladies loos so when she finds out that someone’s been sick after trying to eat the stuff, her wisdom will come back to haunt Liz. Vernon turns up, downcast in a hat with a wilted bunch of flowers and a red balloon that says I Luv Liz. “I’ve been in a dark place since I left you” he says, probably Bradford. “I’ve lost my rhythm, lost my rascals, lost my Liz”. After a bit of schmoozing in the snug, Liz takes him back, as you knew she would. I love Vernon and welcome his return, he's the only man in Corrie to turn being feckless into an art form.
Danny takes Frankie and Jamie out for a slap up Sunday lunch, pops a ring into some fizz and pops the question to Frankie. “Francesa, will you marry me? Again?” She says yes but her face says no. Jamie moans to Sean who listens with the patience of a saint while sitting on a barrel in the Rovers back yard. What a nasty little business this Danny-Frankie-Jamie triangle is.
Tracy starts to cosy up to Claire, the woman she once called a Care-Bear with Tog Rating 15. She also once said if Claire and Ashley ever had a child it would have the personality of a frying pan and the voice of Tweety-pie. Tracy’s forcing herself to do the friend thing (something that doesn’t come naturally to Ms Barlow-no-mates) so she’ll have at least one credible witness when she does the nasty to Charlie Stubbs and does him in over Christmas. Oooh, I can hardly wait.
And that’s just about that for this week.
Glenda
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