MONDAY 17th SEPTEMBER 2007

• Scarlett, who apparently has forgotten about the time that she made a complete fool out of her in front of Daz (whatever happened to long-term grudges possibly culminating in some sort of homicide, that's what I want to know!), chats to Victoria a bit, before being forced to defuse the tension after Carrie inadvertently insults Lexi. She does this by telling them that she wishes she had a sister!
  
  Hang on a minute --
  
  TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTHWWWWAACK!!
  
  Sorry, don't mind me, that's just the noise of the Emmerdale writing team bashing me around the head with a whopping great sister-shaped signpost. Don't worry, I probably only have a minor concussion.
  
  
  
• After talking to Debbie, who might I say does absolutely nothing to invite any sort of suspicion and I am shocked and frankly insulted that anyone might suggest she might (these outlandish claims are almost as preposterous as that one time when someone accused me of 'sarcasm'. I cried for weeks.), Lexi makes a call -- and, in doing so, makes it clear that she's not familiar with the ancient Chinese proverb which translates to something along the lines of "A phone call which starts with 'Eli' will never end well." (Also something about a hidden tiger and some homicidal grasshoppers, but that's maybe less applicable to the situation at hand).
  
  
  
• Victoria continues to map out her family tree (tree? Tree? They could have an entire bloody orchard and still be pushed for space!) and reassures Jack that Billy won't be included in it. This is handy, because presumably Diane will be listed, and I'm not sure whether or not genealogists worldwide have come to any one decision regarding which symbol should be used on family trees to represent 'SECRETLY (BUT ALSO QUITE BLATANTLY) LUSTING AFTER -- OH HOW THEY YEARN!' yet.
  
  
  
• Scarlett is ever-oblivious to the reason for Carrie's epic bitterness towards Lexi.
  
  
• Ooh yes, it's a mystery, isn't it.
  
  
• No, but seriously, she's discovered her father was a millionaire, yet we're expected to somehow believe she can't afford to shell out a measly £1.20 for Inside Soap magazine? EMMERDALE, AS A SOAP RENOWNED FOR ITS GRITTY AND WELL-RESEARCHED REALISM, THIS TIME YOU HAVE FAILED ME.
  
  
  
• Victoria tells Jack that she remembers Robert being "so angry" when their mother died. Jack makes some non-committal noises to signal that he's not exactly sure what on earth could have sparked such an unwarranted reaction. "I thought I'd raised my son to be calm and maybe even grateful when Andy Sugden killed his mother! Apparently I didn't know him at all."
  
  
• She also wishes that Robert would come home. "He will, one day," says Jack. "As soon as he's given up all that 'Kingdom' nonsense. To think, a lad of mine, starring in an ITV teatime drama with Stephen Fry! He has brought shame upon this whole family."
  
  
  
• Eli is sort of half in cahoots with Lexi, whilst all the while trying to convince her not to do anything too drastic to Debbie. This seems to be -- and this one will tickle you! -- because he reckons he might actually have a chance with both of them, although maybe he just doesn't want to die not having known the touch of a woman who didn't share his surname. He tells Lexi that he'd be "gutted" if she left. "Hoping for a jump?" she asks him in return. It pays testament to how incredibly far separated 'Eli' and 'activities of a sexual nature' are in my brain (I don't think they even share the same lobe) that my first thought after hearing 'jump' was '...trampoline?'.
  
  
  
• Debbie finally gives herself away -- and it's taken long enough! She could have spent the last few months walking around the village wearing a stripy jumper, a pair of tights over her head, and a bag marked 'SWAG', and people still would have said, "Oooh, that lovely Debbie Dingle, isn't she a little angel?". And at the same time, Lexi starts preparing the groundwork for her thesis on 'Punches in the Face, and People who Deserve Them'.
  
  
• You've already seen this, but there's no harm in reliving the precise moment when Lexi became, in my estimation, She Who Can Do No Wrong. Genuinely, even if she now goes on to have some sort of gay affair with Grayson behind Perdy's back (OKAY, OKAY, IT'S ONLY A HYPOTHETICAL SITUATION, THERE IS NO NEED TO ACTUALLY WORK OUT ALL THE TECHNICALITIES YET), I will simply pat her lovingly on the head and say, "Oh, Lexi, aren't you a silly-billy! Now hit Debbie again!". And then step back very quickly in case she slaps me:
  
  

SLAP COUNT: 1


ATTEMPTED STRANGULATION COUNT: 1


PUNCH COUNT: 4


"OH MY GOD THIS WOMAN IS AMAZING" COUNT: INFINITY

(There are some things in life money can't buy. For everything else, just get Lexi to smack a bitch up.)

• Lexi then chucks the necklace down the drain (it'll be like Christmas has come early when that washes up in the water supply of a some tiny African village where no one's eaten since 1962! Unfortunately, though, it might not taste that great) and tells Carrie that she wishes it had been her she was hitting. Honestly. I remember the days when children were seen and not heard. Well, actually, I don't, because I wasn't born in 1832, but I do at least remember the days when children worked out their problems on the Jeremy Kyle show, not by brawling on the street like common filth! At least I still have standards.
  
  
  
• Val catches Victoria, who is smoking. As opposed to Lexi, who is smoking hot.
  
  
• I should perhaps be slightly more alarmed that violence suddenly appears to be a massive turn-on for me.
  
  
  
• Zak gets his stake money, which makes Lisa very shrill indeed. Maybe she's more partial to beef.
  
  
• Even I am shocked at how appalling that joke was.
  
  
  
• And the truth finally comes out: that Carrie is Lexi's mother!
  
  
• No! Gosh! Whoever would have thought it! I for one am flabberghasted! etc etc etc.

Sorry!

There won't be a recap tonight, so to make up for the DEVASTATING SADNESS that this news will inevitably bring to you, here's something which is guaranteed to make you feel better. Its healing power is in fact so potent, they've actually started showing it on an endless loop at Lourdes...

A Piece of Art:














Or, if you feel like reliving it in slow motion:



Never claim that I'm not thoughtful and giving!

FRIDAY 14th SEPTEMBER 2007

Over at Chez Dingle, Zak is up early after a disturbed night (we are able to accurately detect the precise time of day by the helpful scene-setting crowing outside the window -- and that, incidentally, is why I could never be a cockerel: too many early mornings). "I can't get over," he tells Lisa, "how a woman would do summat like that." I personally think he's being a bit hard on her: I expect she was only trying to take his mind off the whole Rosemary Debacle -- and, anyway, a lot of men like that sort of thing in the bedroom!

...Oh, no, sorry, the 'woman' in question is apparently Rosemary. Which is probably for the best: the last time Lisa and Zak did something adventurous like that, their punishment was Belle.

Talking of: "The point is, though," says Lisa, "what are we going to do about Belle?" An excellent question, and although there's no one specific answer, I've heard there are some very humane (yet effective) options available if you've got the right contacts. "If we don't think of something, this spelling competition at the school is going to be the last thing she ever does there!" Yes, but like I said, if you do think of 'something', it could be the last thing she ever does full stop!

You know, it's a tricky word to spell, A-S-S-A-S-S-I-N.

(I am naturally not in any way advocating hiring contract killers to finish off small children)

(Only if they really annoy you)

(No, but seriously, please don't call the police)


Meanwhile, if we turn our attention to paragraphs which don't invite warrants for my arrest, in a shift from occasionally puerile humour to something slightly more sophisticated, Paddy slips on some poo.

Debbie tells Pollard she's got a meeting later with a buyer who's offering 'realistic money'. Now, if that's the same kind of "realistic" as we use in the sentence "Debbie is incredibly realistic both as a mastermind mechanic and a cheerful sort of person with a sunny disposition", then I expect it might look something like this:


At the cafe, Betty, Edna and Pearl frown disapprovingly as Emily mentally undresses Bishop George. I would imagine that this is something normally frowned upon by the church -- as far as I can gather, bishops aren't allowed even to hypothetically remove their clothing in a situation where an innocent parishioner might see them (in fact, I expect most of them remain fully-clothed even in the bath, in case God might smite them in his rage at seeing an uncovered Holy Belly-Button). This website, by the way, would be more accurately named "My Blog of Wholly Accurate Religious Trivia and Learnings".



EMILY: "Morning, Bishop."
BISHOP: "Now, we've had this discussion before..."
EMILY: "Sorry -- George."
BISHOP: "Well, I was thinking more along the lines of 'Sexy Manmeat', but I suppose that will suffice..."


As Belle arrives for the spelling competition, so do Zak and Lisa, who want to have a little word with Belle's teacher. She tells them that she's had a word with the chair of the board of governors, but unfortunately he doesn't want Belle either. She claims that Belle is an "outstanding pupil", and that she's very "upset" about the whole situation, but before Zak can try and ask to actually prove this unlikely claim, she tells him (with a mild tone of desperation) that, even if they could make exceptions, "there is no spare money in the budget." Come on, guys, take a hint! "I am really sorry," she tells them, before dashing back inside to try and finish writing 100 lines of "I must not tell lies to the parents of devil-children" before the competition starts.


At the pub, Paddy is upset that Rosemary left without giving him a forwarding address he could return the 'little present' she left behind to. We also learn that Rosemary's dogs are called 'Bubbles' and 'Coco'. I would have thought that those were slightly misleadingly frivolous nicknames for Satan's hellhounds ('Cerberus' is more traditional), but who am I to criticise?


And over at the garage, Debbie is unimpressed by the offer her 'contact' has put in for the necklace. Current economic climates must make things for legitimate businesswomen like her: all those troubles with the mortgage markets at the moment have really taken their toll on Marks & Spencer's chocolate coin exchange rate! The way things are going, she'd probably be better off just swapping the necklace for a Snickers down the local newsagent.


As she leaves the garage, Lexi walks past Daz (who's being wasted on all this mechanic stuff: he'd be a natural in the 'security guard' field!), picks up the phone Debbie's just put down, presses redial, and asks exactly who she's talking to. "Little bitch," she mutters, after putting it down. Now, honestly, I know it's annoying when the people at Pizza Hut get your order wrong, but really! There is no need for such rudeness!


At the pub, Paddy tries to find out where Rosemary is from Gray, who's more interested in ordering his lunch (fillet steak, medium rare). This is either his coded admission that he murdered Rosemary in the last advert break and is planning on serving her up in a delicious meal, or he's kind of hungry and fancies some steak. Your call. (But I know which one I'd put my money on!)

Back at the school, Lisa admits to Belle, the ONLY CHILD IN THE UNIVERSE WHO WOULD BE EVEN SLIGHTLY UPSET BY THIS NEWS, that they're going to have to take her out of the school once the competition's over. Belle tries to suggest alternative solutions, seemingly unable to fully grasp the concept of 'we have no money'. IT'S ONLY A PITY THEY DON'T TEACH ACCOUNTANCY AT THAT POSH SCHOOL OF HERS.


As Debbie goes crawling back to Eric, the spelling competition begins. After successfully spelling 'disappointed' and 'elated', she's asked to correctly use the latter in a sentence for a bonus point. "I was elated when I scored 98% in the entrance exam to my school," she says, "but now I am sad." They asked for a sentence, Belle, not anovel that would make 'War and Peace' look like an unassuming little short story.

At the pub, Emily and Bishop George have been having a chat for quite some time! FUN FACT: Did you know that 86% of conversations between vergers and bishops end up leading to full-blown intercourse? Apparently, the Pope is very concerned about the whole matter, and has asked any elderly women who happen to witness such a scene to intervene immediately! Enter Betty, Pearl and Edna...


And, at the competition, we are told that we have a "clear winner". Yes, it's Belle Dingle, who is able to spell a staggering three different words! Belle gives a lengthy speech about how much she loves her amazing school and how devastated she will be if she's forced to leave it. Ah well, it's nice to know that even though the Dingles might not be able to afford a proper holiday this year, Belle has at least treated them to a nice little guilt-trip.


So, while Zak considers Desperate Measures for Belle's Sake (although not the kind that I would prefer), Belle visits Gray to try and borrow a few quid off him. Unfortunately for her, he's not hugely receptive to her pleas: he's busy being driven to drink. Well, it's cheaper than getting the bus.

And, finally, despite the warnings of his family, Zak decides that he'll have to fight O'Shea -- who is apparently known as the 'widow maker'. What you probably didn't know about him, however, is that he actually used to be a travelling window salesman, before an unfortunate typo on a set of business cards forced him to rethink his career choices.

THURSDAY 13th SEPTEMBER 2007

Or, "Jesus Christ How Long Is This Episode Are They Trying To Kill Me", as it is more colloquially known.

At Mill Cottage, in light of the DRAMATIC (and so long overdue they should have carried a fine) REVELATIONS of the last episode, Rosemary tearfully tells Gray that everything she does, she does for him. Rosemary. Your name is not Bryan Adams. YOU ARE NOT GOING TO PULL THIS ONE OFF. Maybe, at a stretch, if you changed your name by deed poll, released a video of yourself running around in a forest, and spent sixteen consecutive weeks at number one, you might be able to excuse your attempted murder. But as it is at the moment? You are simply not making the effort.

Gray is, as expected, slightly outraged, and this is presumably why this is an hour-long episode: I believe the usual conversion rate is that 'several months of reaching new and exciting levels of uselessness' is equivalent to 'sixty minutes of Angry Shouting', although of course your results might vary slightly depending on whether you're working in metric of imperial.


Rosemary limply protests that she was only trying to help Perdy (that's the problem with these experimental psychiatric treatments, you see, you never know how they'll work out!) which doesn't do much to calm Gray. In fact, if I'm reading my Rage-O-Meter correctly, this is actually the exact moment when he reaches the record-breaking new level of ten indignant hand-flaps per minute!


Over at Home Farm, Matthew, who seems to have no real sense of occasion, has made Perdy some sandwiches. I suppose he'd at least be a useful person to have around in a picnic emergency. He's actually being very sweet to her, though, telling her that he thinks she's coping really well. "I suppose it's not every day that you leave your husband," replies Perdy, a woman who has clearly never read what the Daily Mail has to say about divorce statistics these days.

Meanwhile, Andy, Master of Smooth Talking, tries to coax Jo into not going out by asking her to stay and "go through the accounts" with him. In all seriousness, I really love chat-up lines which sound like they should be incredibly euphemistic, but in reality would probably only get the Director General of the HSBC into bed (and only if you offered him a good interest rate). Next time, Andy, you lovable scamp, ask her if she'll let you double-check her taxable outgoings!

Not surprisingly, Jo opts to go into Hotten.

Grayson, it seems, is still working diligently at filling his yearly Raised Voice Quota. "Tom King, was that you?" he asks. Someone forgot to set the VCR on May the 17th! Then he picks up a vase of flowers and chucks them across the room. Who knew that plants could be such a vicious weapon? We can only pray that Grayson never attends the Chelsea Flower Show -- think of the bloodbath!


In other news, Betty is temporarily headhunted by the DeSouza representative with the interesting taste in jackets, until David promptly nicks her head right back. Henry VIII's got nothing on this cleaning types!

Back at Mill Cottage, and Grayson, confident that by now he's shouted enough to at least guarantee him a nomination in one of the lesser TV awards ceremonies, has retired to a more gentle tone. "You've interfered with my life for the last time," he tells Rosemary. Yes, I'm sure the only reason no one has ever managed to stop her before is because they didn't think to ask her to! What a breakthrough.


Meanwhile, as we return to the house of "Andy can't arrange romantic surprises", Andy, in a surprising break from tradition, is having difficulty arranging a romantic surprise. You know, I never see these things coming. In the end, though, it all turns out okay (well, for now), because as Jo storms angrily out of the door, she comes face to face with... a big balloon. And I'm running a bit late here, so you're going to have to go a bit DIY at this point, I'm afraid:


Grayson, still a bit upset, chucks Rosemary out of the house, while Andy and Jo prepare to go up in the balloon.



As Andy goes back to the house to get some coats, Jack admits to Daz that he and Diane are going through a bit of a rough patch. The sort of a rough patch which has arms and legs and a criminal record and answers to the name of 'Billy Hopwood'.

While the balloon attendant (what a job! "Has it popped yet?" "No." ... "What about now?" "...No.") chats away with Jo, one of the goats, clearly upset about always being stuck in the background and never getting its own dramatic storylines, starts to nibble through the rope holding the balloon down in an act of peaceful protest. (Either that, or it just doesn't like Jo much and thought this might be a bit of a laugh).

Meanwhile, David bursts into DeSouza's office. "I have had enough of your stupid games," he tells her. Would Sir prefer a nice round of Snap?



At Mill Cottage, someone has told Gray that if he wants to aim his sights at one of the more prestigious soap awards shows, then he's going to have to cry a bit too, as well as shouting. Possibly it will be necessary to do both simultaneously. Some people just don't appreciate how relentlessly demanding this acting lark actually is! "You don't know the meaning of love," he tells Rosemary, bundling out of the door and begging her never to come back. Well, not until she's bought herself a dictionary and flicked to the 'L' section, anyway.


As the Balloon Man gets out of his balloon (thereby breaking the fundamental first rule of being a Balloon Man), the rope breaks right through and Jo is cast up, up and away! I'd feel sorry for her, I really would, if I weren't so busy laughing cruelly. Tee hee.

Over at Home Farm, there's a knock on the door, and it's Grayson, and... hang on, give me a minute to work out how to best accurately reenact my reaction to this scene textually...

PHOEBE!!!!!!



And then Matthew throws himself at Gray and Gray cries a bit more (the big jessie) and Perdy (some might say foolishly) agrees to go back with him, blah blah blah, but I think you'll agree that the intended main focus of this scene is in fact OH MY GOD PHOEBE IS BACK!!!


After Jo crash lands in a field, Andy finally properly proposes to her. If only all potentially life-threatening freak accidents had such happy endings!

And Matthew advises Rosemary to get out of the village and never again darken its... communal doorstep. "Or else you'll wish I'd finished you off when I had the chance," he growls, in what he hopes is a coolly menacing tone. Rosemary smiles and bounces off. You can tell he was hoping more for a terrified cower and maybe some petrified tears, but, hey, you've got to take what you can get.

At this point, my recording of this episode gave up completely (probably in protest at its ALMIGHTY LENGTH) by rendering itself completely out-of-sync. For this reason, and also because I am a lazy beast, I'm going to have to switch to bullet points now. If you do get the chance, though, I would urge you to try watching Emmerdale with the sound coming literally five minute before the video at least once in your life: it makes the scenes where Marlon and Paddy flap about a lot even more hilarious, like a sort of surrealist post-modern silent movie. Set in a Yorkshire pub.

• Perdy and Grayson aren't quite back to normal yet (no idea why -- this is such an inconsequential trifle of a matter he's asking her to forgive and forget!). He wants to spend some time with her, she tells him she fancies a ride. This scene is notable because you can actually see the entire spectrum of emotions -- confusion, hope, eventual disappointment -- that affect Gray as he slowly realises that she means the 'horse' kind of ride.
  
  
• After she hounds him for information about why Rosemary's kipping in the B&B, Zak tells Betty: "I reckon folk shouldn't be spreading gossip about people when they don't know what they're talking about." Congratulations Zachariah: you have single-handedly toppled the touchstone on which the concept of 'soaps' was founded!
  
  
• Rosemary moves in with Paddy. It seems that, since 'millionaires' didn't really work out for her, she's setting her sights a bit lower ('skint veterinary practitioners') this time. Well, this way, at least if one of her dogs also 'mysteriously' falls out of a window, she won't have to worry about any expensive call-outs.
  
  
  
• Paddy is slightly disgruntled by the new living arrangements.
  
  
• Belle is still an irritating human version of one of those little computery things that spell stuff. We discover that she remembers how to spell 'necessary' by the mnemonic "one collar, two socks". I always went with "one cup, two sugars", but that one tends to fall down if you're making tea for more than one person. Or a diabetic.
  
  
• Sandy continues to boom in an oddly comforting Shakespearian manner.
  
  
• Rosemary turns up in the pub. Because, fair enough, Gray only said she was no longer welcome in his home, but failed to give any specific instructions regarding public houses! As a lawyer, you'd think he'd be more thorough. Perdy, however, is less understanding of this loophole and tells the whole pub, in no uncertain terms, exactly what Rosemary's been up to. I believe that social etiquette gives as the correct response in this sort of situation something along the lines of, "You go, girlfriend!"
  
  
  
• Rosemary is shocked to discover that Zak doesn't think that 'looking after your family because you are a good and decent man' and 'poisoning your family because you are a deranged and psychotic harpy' are six of the one, half a dozen of the other. These country folk and their radical ideas!
  
  
• Perdy goes away for a while to stay with 'Jonathan and Lynn', who have been good family friends for... ooh, at least five minutes.
  
  
• And Debbie decides that the cleverest way to conceal the fact that you're suddenly a lot richer than you used to be is to buy a great big expensive new car.
  
  
• You have to marvel really, don't you.

WEDNESDAY 12th SEPTEMBER 2007

Okay, this seems as good a time as any to tell you about my ALMIGHTY DILEMMA TO END ALL DILEMMAS, as well as my inspired possible solution.

THE PROBLEM:

Should Perdy end up with Matthew or Grayson? You see, most of the time I think Perdy and Grayson are really good (also, hot) together (and then there's also all that sanctity of marriage stuff, yadda yadda), but then he goes and does something UNSPEAKABLY INSUFFERABLE and I find myself unable to come up with one good reason why Perdy is not at it with Matthew as we speak. It is, as you will see, a quandary.

But, there is hope!

PROPOSED SOLUTION:


Now, this little baby is what I like to call the 'Grayson, you absolute git!' button. Which, if marketed right, I genuinely believe could rival even sliced bread in the absolute genius stakes (I may even sell it with small tubs of jam and butter, such is my conviction).

Basically, the concept is this: when Grayson starts being a pompous prat, I will press the button, which will result in an alarm immediately going off in the Emmerdale studios, which will be Perdy's cue to sprint over to Home Farm as quickly as is humanly possible and pretend she's now married to Matthew King. It will also (and this is the particularly nifty bit) instantaneously transport some sort of really big stick over to where they're filming, with which one of the crew can whack Grayson over the head until he stops annoying me.

If Gray later redeems himself, I will simply press this button:


and Perdy will leg it back to Mill Cottage as quickly as she can!

Georgia Slowe gets some free exercise, I'm saved from making any tough decisions, quite literally everyone wins! (Bar the loser who came up with the idea of 'sliced bread', obviously. How much of an idiot must he be feeling now?!)


Anyway, I'm afraid there's just a short recap (a "weecap", if you will) tonight, because people keep inconveniently asking me to go out and do things with them. DO THEY HAVE HAVE NO SENSE OF PRIORITY WHATSOEVER?


In this episode, we discover that Rosemary, if pressed to choose, prefers to Plot Evilly by candlelight in the living room, which is excellent if you're the sort of arch-nemesis whose main priority is the aesthetics of your wicked deeds, but not so clever if you don't actually want your daughter-in-law to discover you forging her suicide note. Which she does, because, fair enough, if I woke up in the middle of the night my mind would probably leap to "OH GOD MY HOUSE IS ON FIRE" before "Nah, it's okay, my husband's mother's just plotting my downfall again, might as well go back to bed." But this is possibly because

a) I do not have a husband, and
b) As a Girl Guide "Fire Safety" badge-holder, I take my responsibilities very seriously.


All is not lost, though, because Rosemary does have the good sense to quickly hide her cauldron, broomstick, toad and fake suicide note before Perdy comes into the room. The only problem is, she neglects to also hide the rest of the pad of paper she was writing on. "Why," she probably thought to herself, "it's not like any sort of plucky girl detective is going to thwart my wrongdoing!"


THAT, I THINK YOU WILL FIND, WILL TEACH HER TO RECKON WITHOUT PERDITA DREW.


Things That Finally Happen:

• David finally meets the mysterious DeSouza -- but only after she keeps him waiting around for a while first, because she is in a 'meeting' (read: 'admiring her lovely long legs'). After some time, he asks why she's not out yet. It's called "dramatic suspense for people who don't read spoilers", young David.
  
  
  Unfortunately, unless David happened to watch the programme before he was cast in it at all, the unveiling of DeSouza (which is played out with the customary 'spinning round on chair' action -- I don't know how producers managed to cope when they did this sort of scene in the days before wheely chairs) probably didn't have that much of an impact on him.
  
  
• (Oh, DeSouza's Nicola Blackstock by the way)
  
  
• Bishop George and Emily finally get it on in the vestry.
  
  
• (Well, they haven't yet, but it's a mere MATTER OF TIME)
  
  
• Andy finally discovers that he does have one romantic bone in his body, it's just that he was having difficulty locating it under all those bulging muscles (talking of: can we say 'overcompensation'?)
  
  
  
• Dr Prentice finally learns that there is such a thing as good betrayal of patient confidentiality.
  
  
  
• Grayson finally, finally, finally twigs that sunshine does not permanently emanate from his mother, that she does not spend her days frolicking with little fluffy bunnies and giving little orphan children sweeties, and that she does run classes in 'poisoning one's daughter-in-law' at the Hotten community centre.
  
  
• Ooh, he's just like that Inspecter Morse off the TV!

TUESDAY 11th SEPTEMBER 2007

Perdy is on the phone to Matthew. "I think," she says, "You-Know-Who might be about to get her collar felt!" Now, in case you, like me, are marginally slow on the uptake, here are a few (well two) points of clarification regarding this sentence:

1. When she says, 'You-Know-Who', Perdy is probably aiming more along the lines of 'Rosemary, my mother-in-law' than 'Lord Voldemort, fictional Dark Lord'. This, however, is never actually made explicit.

2. 'Getting your collar felt' is quite probably intended in an idiomatic way. What Perdy is saying is that, since her visit to the police station, Rosemary might be in a spot of bother with the boys in blue. What she is probably not implying is that Rosemary has an exceptionally nice collar.

She explains that she had been sure Rosemary had doctored her fruit juice because of her eagerness for Perdy to drink it (it would, incidentally, be a brilliant twist if it turned out that there was actually nothing wrong with the juice at all, and that Rosemary only pretended to be a Minion of Evil because she feared that people might laugh at her childhood dream of becoming a purveyor of fine fruit juices).

Now, you'd be forgiven for thinking that Perdy might at least have... waited until Rosemary had actually LEFT THE HOUSE before revealing every detail of her plan. Out loud. She has, however, evidently been attending Debbie Dingle's 'Covering Your Tracks 101' lessons, because Rosemary is in fact standing a couple of metres away from her. And, judging by the look on her face, there is a WILD POSSIBILITY that she might have somehow cracked Perdy's ingenious code! I KNOW, I KNOW, IT'S PRACTICALLY INCONCEIVABLE.


"Does she know that you've done this?" asks Matthew.

"No, no," says Perdy, who has clearly ordered her dialogue with a side serving of Dramatic Irony. ("Why, it's not like she's standing in the hallway as we speak!"

"...Oh no, my bad, there she is.")


Over at the cafe, David, Betty and Jasmine are having an emergency staff meeting.

BETTY: "He's buttering us up because he's going to lay one of us off!"

And unless he's got a bit of a thing for (astronomically) older women Betty, he's probably going to pick his young and gorgeous girlfriend over you! For obvious (though unprintable) reasons!

DAVID: "I've decided I'm not going to take this lying down."

Oh. Okay, take back what I just said then.

It's okay, though, because David has a Plan to defeat DeSouza once and for all! And if it's the sort of Plan that involves someone chopping all his hair off and confiscating his gel, it is possible I may weep with joy.

Over at Andy and Jo's, Andy's divorce from Katie has finally been finalised. Apparently though, it's "not something I'd want to celebrate about". Andy, mate, here's a bit of friendly advice for life in general: when your new girlfriend asks whether you're pleased about finally being free from your ex-wife, the woman from whose clutches she snatched you, unless you want something implanted in your person that wasn't there before, you do not hesitate!


You do everything you can, stopping at no lengths, to communicate your INTENSE AND INDESCRIBABLE JOY at this turn of events: fashion a costume from the divorce papers, perhaps, and wear it while performing some sort of interpretative divorce dance, or possibly while putting on a one-man musical of your own writing, entitled something like "FREE! The Musical: One Thousand Reasons Why I'm Happy I Divorced Katie And Ended Up With YOU, JO STILES!!". You know, something along those lines.

Jo suggests they might go on holiday to celebrate. Honestly. My suggestions were both more cost-effective and craftsy!

Katie is less happy about the situation, but Rosemary kindly reassures her, telling her that she'll find someone else in no time.

(not particularly) Hidden Subtext: LIKE FOR INSTANCE MY SON.

Katie remarks that Perdy looked much happier the other evening. Rosemary, on the other hand, reckons that they let her out too soon. Oh, Rosemary! How you continue to surprise me with your unexpected and unprecedented views!

(I loathe my daughter-in-law. Do I:

a) rejoice that she is finally back in the warm and welcoming bosom of her family, or
b) OH GOD SEND HER BACK SEND HER BACK WHY IS SHE STILL ALIVE DOESN'T SHE KNOW THAT THAT IS THE ONE PART OF HER PERSONALITY THAT REALLY ANNOYS ME SEND HER BACK RIGHT NOW!!

It's a tough one, so I'll give you a minute or two to think about it.)


Rosemary "accidentally mentions" that she "thinks" she "saw something" that morning ("Oh aren't I silly letting these things slip! Tum-te-tum.") and Katie falls for the bait like, I don't know, a particularly easily fooled fish. "I like Perdy," she says, urging Rosemary to tell her all the details, "I might be able to help her." ("Okay, so it's still a rough plan, and I haven't ironed out the finer details yet, but basically I thought I could give her a bit of a helping hand by, I dunno, stealing her husband? Obviously I'm not a psychiatrist or anything, but I'm pretty sure that's the sort of thing that really gives comfort and support to mentally unbalanced women!").

"I was bringing her some tea," says Rosemary, "and I thought I saw her put something in the drawer of the bureau. And it looked like... a large bag of pills!" And did it by any chance have a big red sticker on it saying 'PERDY'S SUICIDE STASH: ROSEMARY KEEP OUT!', issued by the Department of Being Obvious?

Then she tells Katie "not" to tell Grayson *, because telling Grayson would be "very very bad". ** But obviously, she has "nothing to do with it". ***

* Translation: "WHY ARE YOU STILL STANDING HERE? WHY HAVEN'T YOU TOLD GRAYSON YET? I ASK YOU TO DO ONE THING...!"

** Translation: "IF YOU DO NOT TELL GRAYSON I AM AFRAID I WILL HAVE TO KILL EVERYONE YOU HAVE EVER HELD DEAR TO YOU. THAT'S JUST THE WAY I ROLL!"

*** Translation: "Oh and do you think you could pick me up some more pills from the doctor on your way back, dear? I've just about run out!"


We are left only to wonder what decision Katie might make!

Meanwhile, Betty is looking for some paint stripper. "What does she want paint stripper for?" asks a bemused Alan. I'm no expert, but I think it's traditionally used for such unlikely tasks as stripping paint, Alan, although obviously it's just as possible she might be planning on sniffing it on a street corner with Sandy.


At the vicarage, Laurel says to Ashley, "It's so nice to be alone at last!", which, as everyone knows, is the cue for everyone in the village to form an orderly queue and file into your home one by one with urgent problems about pressing things like lost goats and disputes about sheep (just as in Soapland "I just know we're going to be together forever: you're the only one for me!" actually means "I just know that in a matter of hours you will die in a freak accident while I engage in lurid sexual acts with your best friend, your mother and your dog!").


And then the doorbell rings: Laurel and Ashley are left exhasperated. If these people would just listen to me every once in a while! It's Bishop George (by the way, have we checked his credentials? Are we sure he's a proper bishop? Why doesn't he have the right sort of hat?)! He's come to visit for the day! How lovely! And he wants to use the bathroom! How wonderful!

At the pub, meanwhile, Betty and Jasmine are sabotaging DeSouza's cleaning products with the paint stripper! Okay, so they might not actually be stripping any paint, but YOU WATCH if they don't go and get high in the park the minute they're done.


At the cafe, Jo is rubbing Katie's nose in the holiday she's planning with Andy. The important thing to remember though, says sometimes-gay-but-not-today Gray, is that she can't hold a candle to Katie. For the sake of health and safety, she probably shouldn't try holding one to Betty and Jasmine either, because I think all that paint stripper might well explode.

As Laurel stocks up on food supplies at the shop, she tells Emily that George has landed on them unexpectedly. And this, boys and girls, is why you should always look out for low-flying bishops. And then she invites Emily over to join them for lunch -- watch out, Laurel, you're playing with fire there! And from my experience, vergers are a bloody pain to put out.


Emily looks reluctant, but agrees to come after she hears that Ashley was supposedly the one who wanted her to -- be fair, she's only human, and it's unrealistic to expect her (or any other defenceless woman) to resist Ashley's hunky charms (had he not followed the call of our Lord, he most likely would have joined the Chippendales).

"Why didn't she want you to tell me?" Gray asks Katie at the cafe. I have been through this: I really wish these people would catch up! Anyway, alarmed at the gravity of the situation, Grayson practically sprints out of the cafe, so desperate is he to get back home as quickly as possible. Well, once he's given Katie a bit of a kiss, anyway. Suicidal wife or no suicidal wife, there is still such a thing as good manners!



When he gets back to Mill Cottage, he rifles through the drawer in the living room, only to find a bottle of whiskey and a bag of pills. What is this, a chest of emo cliches? What's in the next drawer, a 'slitting your wrists in the bath in the dark while listening to Morrissey' kit? At this point, Perdy appears, only to discover Gray holding the whiskey and pills and looking depressed. Naturally, she's confused by the situation. And maybe wondering why exactly her husband seems to have been driven to suicide.

She tells Grayson that she's never seen these things before in her life. "Then how did they get there?" he asks. Ooh, it's a conundrum, isn't it! It wasn't him and it wasn't Perdy... oh, if only there were a third person living in the house who could possibly have done such a thing! ...Ah, well, there's not, clearly Perdy's mad.


He tells her not to start blaming his mother again and Perdy, genuinely terrified, realises they might use this as evidence to send her back to the hospital again. She pours the pills down the sink (the rats in the sewer are going to have a party tonight!) and gets Gray to promise never to lock her up again. Except maybe in the good way.

In the pub, David and Jasmine have won the contract back -- but at a price! Why is it that whenever people nowadays come up with these nefarious plots to sabotage rival cleaning companies (which they do, okay, frequently), they never think of the innocent victims, the polished wood surfaces? The heartless cads. And Andy tells Jo that they can't afford to go on holiday anymore thanks to Katie's enormous legal fees. "Is that it then?" asks Jo. "We're just not going?" Of course you aren't, Jo, you're only a minor subplot!

Over at the vicarage, during lunch, Emily asks Bishop George whether he's looking for a new housekeeper yet. Too soon, Emily! It's almost like she doesn't know that there are very specific Biblical rules regarding this sort of situation ("01 And Yea, verily the Lord did say to the Promiscuous Verger, "When Thine Bishop's Housekeeper hath passed unto Me in a manner most Tragic, thou shalt not enquire as to Possible Job Openings until precisely Three Monthes, Two Weekes and Five Dayes hath passed!" 02 And then He did Add: "And keep thine hands off Ashley, you Common Tart!")


As the representative of DeSouza provides David with a summons for the next morning, George leaves Ashley and Laurel, mentioning that he might spend a few quiet moments at the grave before heading back. This might just be my cynical nature, but when he says 'grave', does he mean 'pub'?

And at Mill Cottage, Rosemary tells Grayson that she's sure the doctors will send Perdy back if he tells them about the pills. "She's not going back!" he tells her. How I love the sound of evil backfiring in the afternoon! I'd buy the audiobook if I could.


Meanwhile, Matthew tells Perdy he doesn't think she should go back to Gray tonight. And, in order to successfully fulfil all my duties in my official role of Shallowest Person In The Universe and be eligible to win a free toaster, could I just point out that this has the potential to be the most attractive love triangle ever?


Or maybe it hasn't, because as they speak, Rosemary is (very badly) forging a suicide note in Perdy's handwriting...




(Oh, and there was also a storyline about Jamie and some parcels getting mixed up that I forgot to mention, but the fact that this recap didn't really lose anything without it probably tells you ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW) (Oh, and Pollard uses anti-aging cream. Blimey, either it's incredibly faulty, or he's actually 102.)

THERE WILL BE NO RECAP TONIGHT!

(I boomed, ominously)

And you can blame bloody London arsing Transport, for apparently deciding it would be a bit of a laugh to close a huge chunk of the Central Line this evening and leave me stranded in Shepherd's Bush for the rest of my life. This is no dramatic exaggeration!

Well, okay, it is, but the bottom line is it was a HORRIFIC EXPERIENCE which I will remember to my DYING DAY. And to add insult to cock-ups, I ended up missing Emmerdale, and now I will have to watch the repeat on ITV2 tomorrow morning and there will probably be one of those little flappy people in the bottom right hand corner (I always suspect that they don't even know any sign language, and what they're doing bears no resemblance to what's going on on the screen, they're just 'waving arms and making silly faces' enthusiasts).

But, right, here's my action plan: what I'm planning on doing is renaming this blog to "WHAT I WOULDN'T GIVE TO 'LONDON TRANSPORT' A TRAIN UP YOUR ARSES YOU SMUG GREAT BASTARDS" and then basically each entry will be a separate personal attack on a different member of the London Underground staff team!

Then again, unless someone at the FBI is a particular fan of Paul Lambert (and let's face it, if they were then why would they admit it?) then armed officers are probably less likely to break into my house and arrest me if I just stick with the Emmerdale thing.

Anyway, I'll post a proper recap or two tomorrow. Possibly from prison.

(Even Rosemary is, frankly, both shocked and appalled)