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Yes, the builders are in and profits are up in
Roy's Rolls. Becky's in her element flirting with the fitters while
Roy worries about her over familiarity with the men. The new fangled
apartments rise from the cobbles as the workmen crack on and do
their stuff with bricks and mortar. But when Deirdre's splashed by a
puddle after one of the builders drive past in the rain and then
little Amy's almost knocked over by a building driving too fast,
there's all hell to pay. Eyeball Tony the Catalogue Man gets it in
the neck from Blanche. And Deirdre. Oh, and Liz and Ken, Norris and
Rita too. They all have a moan at him and even though he's an
investor and not the man in charge of builders, Tony says he'll keep
a beady eye (ahem) on events on the Street. “We're not used to it,
all this traffic on the Street,” moans Blanche in her
a-double-vodka'll-stop-me-moaning voice. Indeed, before the builders
came, all that moved on the cobbles was the odd turkey and the
Weatherfield Wayfarer once every other Thursday.
There are
more builders still, in the back yard of the Rovers. They're mates
of Vernon's who have come to erect Liz's smoking shelter. They're as
feckless and rootless as Vernon, both of them are musicians who are
better able to bash out a tune on the cement mixer with two bits of
wood than put up a straight wall. Liz isn't best pleased with
progress and won't be fobbed off. “A gazebo construct?” she asks
Vernon in disbelief when he tells her his master plans for the
shelter. “In a whitewashed yard of a pub up a backstreet ginnel?”
Sometimes the dialogue is poetry.
Over the road, there's
trouble for David when Gail comes home from th'ospickle. And where's
nurse Platt when you need him? And why hasn't even sent Gail some
flowers? Anyway, Gail starts to regain her memory which worries
David no end. She even tells Jason she remembers that it wasn't him
who threw her down the stairs. David chews his bottom lip and Tina
twiddles her thumbs as they wait nervously for it all to come
rushing back to Gail's brain.
In Roy's Rolls, Roy's uneasy at
living with Becky. Well, she had walked in on him while he was in
the bathroom, in the nuddy, and spied his crown jewels. Roy fits a
lock to the bathroom door and Becky asks Ken for some help in
getting along with Roy, who she's clearly upset. Following Ken's
suggestion, a Scrabble match is set for Becky and Roy and Roy waxes
lyrical about the points to be gained from XU. “Did you know 100 XUs
equal a Dong?” As I said earlier, sheer poetry.
Meanwhile
chez Kirkeh, he's over the moon to have Fiz back in the house with
him and Chesney but she's not so keen. He wakes her up in the
morning with a cup of tea at her bedside, which is almost
forgivable, but then she finds him rifling through her dirty undies
as he sorts out the washing, which most definitely isn't. Fiz moans
to Maria who comes up with the ideal way to get Kirk out of her hair
and dirty pants for a while and sends him off on holiday to stay
with their parents in Cyprus.
Elsewhere, Valandro's goes up
in flames after Leanne lures pathetic Paul to set fire to the place
on the pretence of running off together with the insurance cash.
“I'd torch a dozen restaurants for you,” he whimpers to Leanne
before setting fire to the frying pan and the pizza place is
scorched to the ground. Paul's got further problems with Dev finds
him with Amber and assumes he's leading his daughter astray. Dev
scares Paul off with a couple of sharp prods to the chest. And as
Leanne's wondering how she can get out of Paul's hold over her, I
suggest some prodding a la Dev. Mind you, I don't really care, I
just want Paul to leave. I've never liked the character, not one
little bit. Move right along the bus, ding ding, next
please!
And finally, there was a bit of a look between Dan
the bookie man and Liz McDonald this week. I say this apropos of
nowt in particular, it was after all just a look. For now, at
least.
And that's just about that for this
week.
Coronation Street writers this week were Martin
Sterling (a new writer), Carmel Morgan, Lucy Gannon, David Lane and
Chris Fewtrell.