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2008 -
FEBRUARY 4
This week Jack learned to cope with his grief on
the Street. The widows of the parish who know a thing or two about
living alone and getting on wi'it after losing a spouse decided to
cheer Jack up and it's not something he felt he was quite ready for.
Emily offered to cook him a casserole and then Rita and Em took Jack
to the pizza place where he'd have been a lot happier had they
served him a pint instead of poncy plonk. Jack brought Vera's ashes
home and put her in pride of place in the living room. “Welcome
home,” he told her, with a tear in his eye.
Elsewhere this
week Kev was released from prison. He might have gone in there
Neanderthal Man but he's emerged as a New Man. If Sally's not
careful, he'll be eating quiche next. Far from giving Rosie the
ticking off she deserves over the fling with dull John, he sided
with his daughter, gave her advice and said he's going to be
supportive of whatever she does next. He even offered to take her to
the flicks once a week. Am I the only person who still calls them
flicks? Anyway, Sally and Sophie aren't best pleased with the
attention that the new Kev lavishes on Rosie, and Sally's well
huffed that he's not seen fit to turn his new fangled manliness in
her direction just yet. But when he does try to show his
sensitive side to his missus, Sal was not too happy and warned him
off with: “Kevin, get touchy-feely in your own time. I've got work
to do.”
So, with Rosie free to do what she wants next, with
the full love and support from her dad, Kev turned a blind eye when
Rosie went back to work at Underworld and undermined Sally's posh
school education. Acting as Carla Connor's mini-me, Rosie threw
herself straight back into the bear pit of stitching and bitching
while making the tea and keeping Carla sweet.
Meanwhile,
Carla's nose was put out of joint when the Connor clan reunited as
Helen and Barry flew in from Ireland. Helen and Barry are the ma and
pa to Michelle and Liam, flown in specially for the wedding of their
younger son while dishing out the vitriol to the widow of their
other. No, there's no love lost between Helen and Carla and Carla's,
like, “well I don't care”, and “I never want to be a part of that
family anyway” but you can tell she just, so, does. Helen and
Barry look familiar, the sort of actor and actress you've seen on TV
a few times before but you can't place them right now, but that's
by-the-by. Audrey offered to put the two of them up at her
place and got their room ready with her best duvet cover. As the
Connors and Maria enjoyed a drink in the Rovers, Ma Connor regaled
them with a tale of how a half pint of Guinness daily did her no
harm when she was pregnant. She says drinking the black stuff is the
reason why her kids all have glossy, black hair. Now, I know that
can't be true because if it was the Guinness, they'd also have a
load of white froth on the top.
However, with Michelle's mum
and dad on the scene, this means that Michelle can't tell them that
Ryan's not their real grandson. Now then, I'm no fan of this
storyline but I appreciate that others might be, and so here we go.
Michelle offered Ryan the chance to meet up with his real mam and
dad but Ryan's happy as he is and said he doesn't want to know. But
was Michelle happy to stay schtum about being someone else's real
mum? No, she's flippin' well not. She accosted young Alex after
school, thrust her phone number on him and secreted him away in the
back room of the pub when he came to find out just what the ‘eck's
going on. Steve wasn't impressed by Michelle's behaviour and do you
know what, laydees and gentlemen? I'm not either.
Now then,
I like Becky Grainger. I think she's one of the best things on the
Street and she lights up the screen when she's on. She's as rough as
a badger and I think Corrie missed a trick by not casting her as the
younger sister to the wonderful, but no longer seen, Yana Lumb.
Becky got lucky with Jason this week and after getting him drunk
when she caught him in a bad mood after a phone fight with Sarah,
the two of them ended up in bed at Eileen's. Next morning, Eileen
was shocked. Shocked, I tell you. There was Becky, brazen as brass
sitting at Eileen's breakfast table, smoking a fag and wearing
Eileen's dressing gown. But Eileen wasn't as shocked as Audrey who
spotted her grand-daughter's new husband snogging Becky from the
caff by the welcome mat first thing in the morning. And Audrey
wasn't as shocked as Gail was when she found out the news. And then,
oh, then, a wonderful fight ensued on the cobbles as Gail and Eileen
tore into each other verbally over Jason being unfaithful to Sarah.
It took fat Jerry the kebab man to separate the two women and he led
Gail into her house and out of harm's way after Eileen called her
“Janette Krankie”. Eileen took out her revenge on Gail's hanging
basket, smashing it to the ground. Oh, you should have seen what she
did to those winter flowering pansies. When Jason came to his senses
(aka sobered up) he took a guilt trip to Italy to see his Sarah.
Back at the café, Becky was loved up and had fallen head over heels
for Jase. She tarted herself up and bought a new top, the sort with
no back, hardly any front and two tiny straps. “What do you think?”
she asked Roy as she held the top against her chest in the caff.
“Two poached eggs on toast,” said Roy, with his mind on bacon
butties, not breasts. “Blimey Roy, where do you keep the rest of the
Pussycat Dolls?” asked Fiz in disbelief when she saw Becky all
tarted up with her new top on. I suspect this cultural reference to
popular music bypassed Roy completely. Of course, Becky found out
that Jason had gone looking for his broad aboard and then she sat at
the bus stop waiting for the bus into town, all on her own, smoking
a fag and wearing her new top. This got me thinking that if I was
ever lucky enough to be an extra on Corrie, all I'd want to be is a
passenger on the Weatherfield Wayfarer and smile out of the window
as it trundled by on its way into town.
Elsewhere this week,
Darryl tried to woo Lauren and loaned her fifty quid but got nothing
in return, apart from thirty seven pounds fifty and a shifty look as
she dumped him in the chip shop. Mel turned out nice in her police
uniform and there was a wonderful shot of a digital camera taking a
photo of Jerry, Darryl and Mel. If I knew enough about film making
techniques, I'd have been dead impressed by that bit.
And in
a scene that went nowhere but left a million things unsaid, Sean
served Norris at the bar in the Rovers. “What'll it be, love?” Sean
asked Mr Cole. “Did you just call me love?” asked Norris, all miffed
and confused. It was a wonderful scene. Is it time that Norris came
out of the closet?
And that's just about that for this
week.
Coronation Street writers this week were David Lane,
Jonathan Harvey, Jan McVerry, Carmel Morgan and Damon
Rochefort.
Glenda -- Blogging away merrily at http://flamingnora.blogspot.com
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