In some ways, it's a solitary pleasure, as has been this blog. But in other ways Corrie is an experience which is made for sharing. Which is why from now on I'm going to be sharing my Weatherfield fetish over at Corrieblog. Click over there and bookmark it immediately, or I'll set Tracy Barlow on you when she gets out!
I've been away for a few days ("did anyone notice?" I sniff in my most annoyingly self-pitying manner), and oh-my-lands what a lot has been going on in Corrie.
First off we had Emily thinking Norris was proposing to her, when actually he was just doing a dry run for proposing to Rita, which he subsequently did. Of course she turned him down,and Norris is heartbroken.
Then we had Hayley discovering that her former incarnation, Harold (who looked like a young Paul McCartney as viewed in a Hall of Mirrors-type mirror, in the photos we saw of him) had fathered a son. A situation made more complicated by the fact that Hayley told Roy that Harold had been a pure and unsullied boy as far as shenanigans were concerned. So now her new best friend Becky (I'm loving Becky at the moment - she's much more watchable since the smoking ban came in and she's not constantly sucking the life out of a Silk Cut) has helped Hayley to find a private detective to track down the fruit of her unmodified loins. Roy is still oblivious.
Oh-David has been getting steadily more deranged, but the Corrie writers are cleverly painting him as being as much sinned against as sinning. He tried to apologise to Mel Kebab for besmirching her good name, but she refused to listen. His family members spend most of their free time muttering about how useless he is, just within his earshot. The result has been that he's been taking out his violent tendencies on computer games ("Die! Die!"). I do hope Corrie isn't going to go down the computer-games-are-the-root-of-all-evil route, because I happen to love them and think they're a Jolly Good Thing. Oh-David also removed the fuse from the freezer so all Gail's Viennettas defrosted. Then he heroically offered to fix it for Gail because "electricity and water are a lethal combination."
As well as Eileen and Jerry, a new cab/kebab love axis opened up when Lloyd went to the rescue of Jodie Kebab, who needed to pick up younger sister Kayleigh Kebab who had got drunk and disorderly on her way home from school. It's still early days on that one, but I detected a spark.
But the real dramatic highpoint, I suppose, has been the climax of the Casey story.
Having told Casey that Clurr was his One True Love, Ashley thought he'd seen the last of her. When the never-seen Clurr's Mother needed rushing to the dentists, Ashley left Baby Freddie in the blue-plastic-gloved hands of Kirk in t'butcher's shop. As if you would, really. Though, to his credit, Kirk seemed reasonably confident that he'd be able to avoid mixing up the meat and the baby. But he didn't cope very well, so when Casey turned up, offering to take Baby Freddie to t'park, Kirk was only too relieved to hand him over.
When Ashley got back and discovered BF was gone, he rang Casey, who was at home. And Casey, you see, lives in a Very High Building. Of course she does. All the better for threatening to jump off and take Baby Freddie with her. Her flat was full of Photoshopped pictures of her and Ashley and BF looking like a badly-posed happy family.
Then Clurr turned up, with Audrey, who had called the police. Ashley was fairly useless, but Clurr played a blinder - like Cracker, she was. She told Casey that Ashley and Freddie were no substitute for her own baby, who had died. She described what that had been like - Casey had told her all about it. So Casey cracked, Ashley got the baby, then Casey tried to jump off the balcony but the police arrived. Phew. I was feeling quite sorry for Casey by the end of all this, and not just because she's been forced to wear that ugly short teal-blue jacket for weeks on end. The story of her losing her baby was properly upsetting.
So it's happily ever after at Peacock Towers? Well, not really. During all the above hoo-hah, Casey had made Ashley admit that he had slept with her. So Claire is not best pleased. To say the least.
Posted by Sue at 09:13
We all know that Very Special Babies are born on Christmas Day. This is particularly true in soaps, because dramatic births are a great ratings-winner for those all-important Bank Holiday episodes.
Thus it was on Christmas morning in 1990 that Gail and Martin Platt first gazed upon the face of Gail's second and Martin's first son, David. As they marvelled at his angelic countenance and little chubby fists, they could hardly have envisaged that one day he would give them merry hell. So what happened in his young life to turn him into the spitting sliver of venom we see today, apparently poised to fake his own suicide?
Well, with my Jeremy Kyle hat on (it's stylish, but snug at the same time) I would have to point out that the poor lad has suffered somewhat from a lack of parental attention. His father had various affairs, including one with a girl not much older than David herself, who accidentally killed her father (are you following this) then killed herself. Martin has now moved to Liverpool with his latest flame, and hardly has anything to do with his offspring. Meanwhile, Gail has been busy marrying a serial killer, who also tried to kill the entire family.
It's no excuse, of course. Look at the life poor Chesney's had, and you don't see him up on roofs threatening to shoot his family members, do you?
Gail was almost right when she determined that Oh-David needed a male role model in his life. Sadly the male ordered to take up this position was poor Jason, who practically embodies the phrase "nice but dim." Jason is doing his best, but his best is too little, too late.
Failing an appearance on Jeremy Kyle ("Dropping out of school, burning exam papers, threatening family members, accusing fast food vendors of sleeping with him AND being boring - we need to hear more. David's on the show, guys"), nothing will turn David's life around now except a visit to Uncle Stephen in Canada. It worked a treat for older brother Nicky.
Posted by Sue at 10:53
Casey and Ashley have agreed to not see each other. Casey is going to "go away," she says.
At this point, if I was Ashley, I'd be hiding the matches and any pointed objects.
Jack and Vera's grandson, whose name is Paul Clayton, has persuaded the bank to lend him the £20k needed to buy a 40% share in Pasta Best. But the tricky wee monkey has got the loan in the name of Jack Duckworth, and their lovely home in Coronation Street is security. Gasp! Leanne gasped, and she objected a bit, but Paul pointed out that she didn't get her money by exactly squeaky clean means, either, and needs must, so she's going along with his corrupt scheme. Come back Tyrone! We need your moral fibre, love of the Duckworths and all round good-guyness. Sadly he's still away in Spain bailing his mother out.
Mel Kebab was looking after the kebab shop on her own after Darryl wandered off, and two young thugs tried to extort kebabs off her for no payment (they could at least have gone for the Jerry Hat Trick, which I believe involves chips). The hero of this particular hour turned out to be none other than Eileen, who gave the scalliwags what-for and sent them packing. She needed a brandy afterwards, mind, but her heroic deed only cemented in Jerry's mind what a Good Egg she is. Love is in the air, and I may get triple use out of my wedding hat (if Sarah-love and Jason, and Michelle and Steve, make it to t'altar as well).
Posted by Sue at 14:42
I feel sorry for Oh-David.
No, honestly, I really do. He's a bright lad - he got an A* in the only GCSE he could be bothered to sit - but he hasn't had an easy life.
I know this doesn't excuse his evil streak. The Lovely Craig Harris had a hard life, too, and he grew up to be a truly luminous example of niceness. Ditto Fiz, and Chesney.
Maybe it's a testament to the good acting work of Jack P Shepherd, that even while David is being the Spawn of Satan, I can still feel some sympathy with him. Today he overheard his nearest and dearest discussing how he was a wrong 'un who'd never amount to anything. No wonder he's turning to the dark side.
Meanwhile, Jack and Vera celebrated 50 years of married bliss. It was rather moving - everyone assembled in t'Rovers, even Deirdre, who's been taken out of the Corrie Cupboard (where they keep cast members who aren't currently being used - it incorporates a tanning booth, just in case you were wondering why they usually come back browner) specially for the occasion, though Ken is still in there. Jack told how he and Vera had met, at the funfair where he was one of those greasy, be-quiffed lads who spun you too fast on the waltzer. Vera, he said, was the prettiest girl at the fair. Not a dry eye in the house. It made Emily and Rita go all nostalgic for the men they'd loved and lost (Ernest and Len, not Alan Bradley).
Posted by Sue at 10:58
Just how gorgeous was Liam looking last night? He had a business meeting with some bloke who never turned up, at Leanne's restaurant (from now on I'm going to call it Pasta Best), and he was wearing a striped shirt and dark jacket and looked fantastic. Leanne couldn't resist him. But he could resist her, I'm happy to report. In fact a romance with Queen of Hair, Maria Sutherland, is on t'cards for TV's most handsome man. I hope she treats him right.
Vera's grandson wants to invest in Pasta Best. Getting the money together involves procuring a driving license in Jack's name. What is he up to??
But the real drama of the evening centred on Oh-David. He was supposed to be going to the cinema with Mel Kebab, but Sarah-love told Mel Kebab that David was a strange stalker type who would quickly become obsessed with her, so Mel stood David up. Of course this made Oh-David become quickly obsessed with Mel Kebab, and he told Amber that he's slept with her but she was so boring he was forced to dump her. Amber relayed this to Sarah-love, who made sure Mel knew, then Jerry Kebab confronted Gail about it. Gail made David apologise and grovel in front of the entire Kebab family, plus Kelly, Cilla and Chesney, Sarah-love and Audrey. Thoroughly humiliated, David later climbed on to a roof and outlined to Jason his sincere wish to shoot his sister, mother and grandmother. Disturbed!
Cilla is now working in a care home and has her sights set on a rich paraplegic man. She's treating him to glimpses of stocking tops and cleavage, in a subtle effort to impress.
Posted by Sue at 16:19
If I was Audrey, I'd be sleeping with a fire extinguisher next to my bed. This is not to keep Bill Webster at bay, but because Audrey has incurred the wrath of "Head" Casey, and we know she can be a bit of a twisted firestarter when she's upset. Audrey tried to warn her off Ashley, you see. Ashley is a bit nervous now, and wouldn't let Casey through the door. Anyway, he was just about to put Our Joshua in t'bath.
Liam doesn't seem to like Wosie calling him "Liam." I think he thinks it's disrespectful to Sally, because he's a good Irish boy at heart.
Paul - the hardest working chef in the north west - mentioned to Leanne that a few more staff at t'restaurant wouldn't come amiss, being as he's doing all the ordering, preparing, cooking and serving of the food. She admitted that there's a cash-flow issue. I wonder how long before she's ringing Dev's bell again? In a manner of speaking.
Bill Webster came up with a cunning plan to create more living space at Platt Towers. Knock through to t'garage, and make a bedroom there for Oh-David. Problem is Oh-David is refusing to be delighted with this scheme. He knows that if he stays put, Jason and Sarah-love will have to continue sharing a room with Sarah's invisible child, Bethany (who hasn't materialised for about 2 months so I don't know why they're bothered really). And David loves to make Sarah's life even more miserable.
Posted by Sue at 15:33