Corrie weekly updates from 1995, 17 years in 17 e-books
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Dear Santa
Ooh, I feel like all my Christmasses have come at once, Santa luvvie, I reallah do. Sending Bill Webster to keep me warm at night is the best present anyone could have given me, it reallah is. I won’t keep you long, Santa, as I know you’ve got all them loveleh little kiddies to get presents to, but yes, mah luv, I am fully aware that Bill’s married. And where is his wife, mah luv, umm? And if she does return and Bill goes back to her, well there’s plenty more men on the cobbles! Come to think of it, what are you doing later? Come into the salon mah luv and I’ll give your beard a bit of a trim. Eh? Umm?
Audrey Roberts (widowed, single, available for parties and barmitzvahs).
Dear Santa
Well, I was right over the moon when the doc gave me the all clear on the cancer. I tell you I was that relieved - so I snogged the doc right there in his consulting room. Who needs mistletoe when you feel this happy, eh? So I get home, full of the joys, only to have little Ches in tears telling me that Les and Yana have been up to no good behind my back while I’ve been ill. Right. I wasn’t having this, so I stormed to the pub where the pair of them, brazen as you like, were sitting having a drink. Fiz and Ches followed me in, I hate it when them bleedin’ kids do that. Anyway Santa, I sat down opposite my cheating husband and my no good best mate and fibbed my head off like I’ve never fibbed before. I told them the cancer was terminal and I was going to die. “The next few weeks are going to be very difficult for you” I told Les and I put my sad face on. He hasn’t a clue what I meant though. And then Fiz and Ches burst into tears thinking I was going to die. How did the pair of them ever get to be so thick? Soft articles. So then Les is going on about how he’ll do anything to make my last few months on earth a living paradise and I tell him straight, I want to swim with dolphins in Florida. And before you can say ‘flipper’ he’s took himself off the booze and fags and he’s only gone and set up the Cilla Dolphin fund in our front room. Even the bleedin’ regulars in the pub are collecting for me and the cabbies have donated their Christmas bonuses. But do I feel guilty? Do I ‘eck. That daft bozo Les is going on and on about ‘is there anything else you want’ my dear Cilla this and my darling Cilla that so I tell him yes. Les, there is. I want Les and Yana sitting in a bath full of beans outside the pub on Christmas Eve to raise dosh for the dophin fund. And the daft beggars have agreed. Mind you, I’m sure I heard Steve McDonald say in the pub: “If you ask me, I reckon it’s the dolphins we should be collectin’ for!” but I can’t say for sure that I heard him right.
PS: Any chance you can you bring me some new tanfastic spray tan for Chrimbo? Variety No 57, baked bean orange will do, ta chuck.
Cilla Battersby-Brown.
Dear Santa
Can you bring me some goose fat for Christmas? I’ve been looking for it everywhere, it’s the must-have thing this Christmas says that bird on the telly who does the cooking but I think Brylcreem will work just as well. Anyway, I don’t want anything this Christmas but can you bring something to cheer Fiz up ‘cos she’s just found out her mam’s dying of cancer. So bring Fiz something really nice like a new handbag but not one in the shape of a dog, car or watering can, ‘cos she’s got them already.
PS: Is it true you can eat reindeer poo?
Kirk Sutherland
Right Santa, listen up
I want a new iron, right, ‘cos the one I’ve got has bits of skin stuck on it. Well, I burned my arm, didn’t I? I had no choice. Everyone was starting to think Charlie wasn’t as bad as I want them to think he is so the burn on my arm with the iron might just do the trick and make people feel sorry enough for me. Oh yeah, and bring some stuff for the little ‘un - dolls, toys and crap like that.
Tracy Barlow
Dear Santa
It’s doing me head in, mate, it really is. I fell in love with my step-mum, me dad’s gone missing and me ex-girlfriend Violet’s up the duff. Can you wave a magic wand this Christmas and make me disappear? Everyone’s gossiping about it and I hate it. Even me brother Warren knows all about it in Spain but I don’t think he’ll tell anyone and even if he did no one would understand. Not ‘cos he can’t speak Spanish but ‘cos he’s a bit thick. Still, he might have got the looks in our family but I got our mum! Granny Viv’s turned up looking like she’s stumbled onto the wrong soap. I tell you man, it’s heavy. We had to go to the cop shop and report Danny missing and they tell us they had a body in the morgue fitting dad’s description. It weren’t him but granny Viv had to take herself off to the pub to calm her nerves, mate. I tell you, me and Frankie had to get there quick to stop anyone from telling her before we got a chance to break the news. It’s just as well she had a double brandy in front of her ‘cos it ain’t every day a granny finds out her grandson’s been sleeping with her daughter-in-law. Sad thing is, she’s gonna tell the cops.
PS: How long does it take to grow a beard like yours? I’ve only got a ten o’clock shadow and I’ve been trying for three months.
Jamie Baldwin
Hiya Santa Babe!!!!!!!
Me and Chesney’s having a right laugh with an old diary we found in Ches’ attic. You should’ve seen the look on Betty’s face in Roy’s caff when I pretended I was psychic and I could see a gold chain around her neck. ‘Cos the diary said she used to be Lady Mayoress or something. It was well wicked! Jack nearly choked on his bacon sarnie. I luv winding up the oldies, me. I had a go at Rita in the Kabin when I told her I knew all about Alan Bradley. She went ballistic, it woz fab. Anyway, Santa, I luv ya loadz and I wonder if I can have a new sister for Christmas ‘cos our Rosie’s well mingin!
Luv from Sophie Webster!!!!!!!! xxx
Dear Shanta Claush
Ashley and Clare have kicked me out to go and live with our Shelley. Any chance of another bottle of gin?
Merry Christmash from Bev Unwin.
And that’s just about that for this week. See you again sometime before the New Year!
Glenda
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