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2009 -
MARCH 16
Big story not only of the week but of the year so
far is Steve and Becky's wedding so let's crack on with that. With a
wedding date of Friday the 13th, things were never going to be
smooth. The groom had a black eye and second thoughts and the bride,
well, the bride was Becky Granger, what more's to be said. Oh, you
want more said? Right then, here goes. Becky was in a huge, and I
mean huge, pink, and I mean pink, net of a dress with a chicken
fillet cleavage to plump out her breasts, packet of fags tucked in
her garter, pink hair attachment, a tiara like Jordan's and as an
accessory, a gob full of gum. “What's your top tips for a happy
marriage?” she asks Hayley before the big day. Hayley, bless her,
did a little shudder in that way that she does and smiled sweetly
before reply. “Be Yourself. Give and Take…” and there was another
little shudder and I swear her eyes sparkled: “… and treat him to
the occasional hairwash.” I've always thought Roy had nice,
shiny, clean hair.
Anyway, at the church Steve sits and
waits with his black eye and his suit as the registrar waxes lyrical
about an 18 foot boat he likes to take out on the reservoir. It's
all very nautical. And as Steve waits, Becky drinks. It starts when
Natasha comes to do her hair first thing in the morning and doesn't
stop until Becky collapses. She gulps champagne from the bottle and
cheap cider from Blanche that she's bought from Dev's shop after he
gives her sales patter: “It's got an OK bouquet, a whiff of marker
pen and it's three litres for £1.99”. Sold to the lady with the
errant son-in-law.
Desperate to hide from Steve when
she spies him on the Street, Becky runs into the builder's yard and
ends up drinking with Jason who gives her a bit of advice: “You want
to have your wedding cake and eat it, you.” As Roy and Hayley fret
about her whereabouts and whatnots, Becky stands and rips her frock,
her tiara's cock-eyed and she's three sheets to the wind but does
she care, no she does not. She's flaming loved and she knows it. She
even shouts it from the Underworld roof, with a bottle of champagne
in her hand and her soul raised to the sky, but no idea of the
time.
Roy manages to get her down from the roof and into the
wedding car and off they set to the registrar office. But as Becky
walks down the aisle, to the tune from Bonnie and Clyde, by then
it's too late because she's too drunk and HMS Registrar drops anchor
and says the bride isn't in a fit state to be wed. Not that she
cares, because she's hammered. “What's hammered?” asks little Amy
but when Becky becomes her step-mum eventually, as she surely will
become, little Amy will find out what hammered means soon enough,
and regularly too. And so, Steve takes drunk Becky back to the
Rovers and carries her in through the backdoor not just over the
threshold but over his shoulder. Trouble is, she thinks they did get
wed because she was too drunk to know what was going on and it's
left to Michelle glossy-bonce Connor to relish in breaking the bad
news to Becky that she and Steve aren't married after all.
Becky spends the next two episodes in tears with streaky mascara
doing its job to perfection.
Elsewhere this week away from
the madness of the marriage that just wasn't meant to be, things
were plodding along nicely in the Platt household. Gail finds Joe
curled up in his builder's yard on a smelly mattress and asks him to
move back in with her after Tina told her about her dad's depression
and deep blue moods. So it's officially true, there is someone even
more miserable than Gail. Mind you, David's not best pleased when he
finds Joe's moved back into the house and his mum's life and in his
anger, he throws Joe's stuff down the stairs. Well, he's had
practice at throwing things down the stairs, has young Platt.
In the flat above the bookies, Peter buys Simon a pet
rabbit. “Whaddaya gonna call it?” Peter asks his son, “Bunny?
Fluffy? Snowy?” to which Simon replies: “Wanna call it Leanne,” and
so Leanne the rabbit now joins the cobbles cast. She always was
hare-brained.
Meanwhile, over in Underworld, Maria and Tony
get creepily close. It's horrible, I can't bear it and I have to
watch these scenes hiding behind the sofa with my fingers in my
ears, rocking back and forwards until it all ends.
And up in
the flat in the sky at Victoria Court, Tara presses on with her
plans to open Tate Salford. She's spending a fortune but Dev doesn't
seem to care as he's got comedy uncle Umed to keep an eye
on.
And that's just about that for this
week.
Coronation Street writers this week were Mark Burt,
Chris Fewtrell, Debbie Oates, Jayne Hollinson and Lucy
Gannon.
Glenda -- Blogging away merrily at http://flamingnora.blogspot.com
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