Emmerdale Recaps

MONDAY 17th SEPTEMBER 2007

2007-09-21T19:06:00.000+01:00

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!

2007-09-19T18:47:00.000+01:00

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

2007-09-18T19:30:00.001+01:00

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

2007-09-17T17:58:00.000+01:00

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

2007-09-15T19:57:00.000+01:00

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

2007-09-14T18:24:00.001+01:00

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!

2007-09-12T20:41:00.000+01:00

(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)

MONDAY 10th SEPTEMBER 2007

2007-09-11T19:23:00.000+01:00

In the kitchen at Mill Cottage, Rosemary is kind-heartedly making up a nice glass of homemade orange juice for Perdy (following the traditional Sinclair family recipe, naturally: one part oranges, twenty-five parts anti-malarial medicine, just to give it a bit of extra kick). And you can say what you want about Rosemary Sinclair-King (although not to her face, obviously, unless you actually need to do some research on padded cells), but if Perdy ever does decide to take an impromptu trip to Kenya, she's going to be practically indestructible! There really are few mother-in-laws would be so considerate.

And Gray wants to throw a party -- presumably to celebrate his wife's safe return home, rather than his mother's maniacal homicidal streak, although it's sometimes hard to tell with these posh folk! Any excuse for a social function! Rosemary's not impressed by the idea -- but, as she says, "I've been called many things, but never a killjoy." It's only a shame Perdy's parents didn't think to name her Joy.

Over at Barraclough's, Carl (which is an interesting way of spelling 'twat') is being characteristically kind and attentive to Grace. PLEASE SPOT THE DELIBERATE MISTAKE IN THE PRECEDING SENTENCE THERE. He's a bit too busy to spend the day with his depressed, lonely, grieving lady friend, although he's not heartless: he's prepared to spare a moment of his busy day to give her a lift to the station! Which, when you think about it, is actually very helpful: now she doesn't have to wear herself out with a long, tiring walk before THROWING HERSELF UNDER A TRAIN.

Anyway, back at Mill Cottage, Perdy is refusing to drink her orange juice. Has she run mad? Does she not care about getting her five-a-day?! As Gray phones Rosemary to discuss Important and Confidential (tonic water related) matters, Perdy takes the opportunity to escape to the kitchen and pour the juice into a handy, portable plastic bottle. This is probably essential if you need to be poisoned while on-the-go and want to avoid spillages.

At Ashley and Laurel's, meanwhile, Hilary gives Laurel some cabbage to stick down her bra. No, really. And then, day by day, she'll gradually add carrots, then potatoes, then a nice leg of beef, and by the end of the week she'll have produced the world's first fully underwired roast dinner! No, not really. Anyway, this slightly unusual serving suggestion (honestly, you'd never catch Saint Delia poaching food in her undergarments!) leads Doug to -- quite understandably -- make a quick exit: he's off for a spot of fishing with Zak and Shadrach. Hilary is reasonably horrified: fishing is very much a gateway hobby. Today he's reeling in a couple of fish, tomorrow it'll be crack cocaine and prostitution! You simply cannot take these things too lightly!

Over at the police station, Perdy, unaware that Rosemary has followed her there -- although I'm not sure why ("Well, ye-es, she would try to kill me just for marrying her son, but I hardly think she would stoop so low as not respecting my privacy!") -- is busy not being taken seriously by the desk constable. He cruelly disregards her request to see someone in charge, and seems to be labouring under the impression that she might want to report a missing poodle of some variety (OH GOD I'VE JUST REMEMBERED HOW MUCH I MISS PHOEBE). Perdy triumphantly pulls out her trump card, or rather her trump bottle of orange juice, the international symbol for "I'LL THINK YOU'LL FIND THIS IS SERIOUS BUSINESS". He is as awestruck as you might expect.

And now we're back to the thrilling "Old People versus Postman" subplot -- you wonder why some of this stuff hasn't been adapted for Hollywood yet, you really do! -- as Sandy knocks over Jamie's post cart with his van, Hotten's equivalent of 'a fatal hit and run'. What would Her Majesty say! So disgusted is he at the rampant hooliganism infecting the Dales, Jamie storms (well, wobbles: apparently Royal Mail equipment isn't designed to withstand VICIOUS ROAD CRIMES) off, just as Sandy discovers he's left behind a parcel. And, I've got to say, I can only applaud ITV for having the courage and insight to film a storyline covering such a topical and controversial issue as 'stuff getting lost in the mail'! What daring! What vision!

And, in less ground-breaking plots, we're back to the police station, where Perdy's in the interview room with a little policeman, who will from now on (quite inventively, I thought) be referred to as Little Policeman. He, too, doesn't seem entirely convinced by Perdy's claims, but at least he's being a bit nicer about it. "Sorry to moan," says Perdy, "but someone's trying to kill me!" (I love her when she's not drugged up!). She's not having any of his platitudes, because she has brought him "hard physical evidence":

"Look what she tried to do to me!" she cries, waving the orange juice at Little Policeman (whose name is apparently 'Barnaby'). Now, I really hope that at some point off-screen, Perdy has actually explained the concept and significance of the bottle to this poor bloke, or he must just be sat there thinking, "She did what?! She... tried to boost your Vitamin C levels and protect you from scurvy? Why, the HEARTLESS FIEND!".

Outside, Rosemary waits until Perdy's gone, before making her own visit to the police station. It is unlikely that she has decided to hand in her weapons to their Fruit Juices Armistice.

Meanwhile, as Hilary frets about Doug's welfare, he is indeed fishing. In the Dingles' front room. For cans of beer. Honestly, I have no idea why she was so suspicious about the whole situation!

Back at the police station, Charlie Vaughan, Dark Overlord of All Hotten, is having a word with Little Policeman about Mad Perdy and how she is mad. Little Policeman admits that Perdy hadn't mentioned that. No! Really?! Clearly no one has ever informed her of the well-established SCIENTIFIC EVIDENCE that proves that the sentence "Oh, and I've just escaped from the loony bin!" is capable of making any outlandish claim up to 120% more believable!

Vaughan tells him not to worry about the whole thing -- "the family", he says, "are taking appropriate steps", which sounds worryingly like code for "finding an appropriate spot to dump the body". But I actually have faith in Little Policeman -- he does, after all, share a name with that most upstanding of policeman, Midsomer's legendary DCI Barnaby, which leaves me safe in the knowledge that he will definitely bring some sort of justice for Perdy, regardless of what Vaughan might have to say on the matter. Er, that is, after accidentally letting 20-30 people die first. It's the Barnaby way!

At Mill Cottage, and Rosemary and The Least Professional Doctor Since Frankenstein are discussing Grayson's pointy head. Oh, and Perdy.

ROSEMARY: "I don't think she should have been released from hospital!"
DOCTOR: "What are you saying, Rosemary?!"

JUST A WILD STAB IN THE DARK HERE, but I think, think, that she might just be leaving a heavily-veiled hint that... she doesn't think she should have been released from hospital! Then again, I shouldn't be too cruel: not everyone can read people like I can.

Belatedly, Carl turns up at Grace's with some flowers. "Lovely," she says, "but I'm going away tonight, so I can hardly take them with me." That's right, love, kick a man where it hurts! IN HIS FLORAL BOUQUET. Carl is undeterred by her steely demeanour, though: he wants to prove to her that he understands what she's going through. Grace tells him she can't cope with him blowing hot and cold at the moment. "I don't want to stop seeing you," he tells her. You should probably stop wearing these then, mate:

As Laurel and Hilary pick Doug up from the Dingles' house, which is notable for its conspicious lack of fish (ooh, he'll be in trouble when he gets home!), at the the pub, the hard-hitting postal storyline races towards its nail-biting climax: an item of Alan's post is missing! HONESTLY I DON'T KNOW HOW THEY COME UP WITH THIS STUFF DAY AFTER DAY. How do they maintain the pace?

And David discovers that De Souza's have nicked his cleaning contract for the pub RIGHT from under his ridiculous haircut! Bless his (presumably now in need of a good clean) little heart.

And as Hilary and Doug prepare to go back home... well, their relationship might be looking a bit rough, but, hey, at least Hilary and Laurel are getting along better now! You win some (daughters), you lose some (marriages)!

SUNDAY 9th SEPTEMBER 2007

2007-09-10T17:28:00.000+01:00

So, there I was, all prepared to write the most incredible recap of an episode of Emmerdale the world has ever seen. Well, I say 'the world', but obviously I mean 'the people in the world who actually watch Emmerdale'. Okay more specifically, 'the people in the world who watch Emmerdale and read this blog'. Alright! Fine! The most incredible recap of an episode of Emmerdale my mum has ever seen!

But then... well. This happened:

And, well, you could say I lost my train of thought. You could say that, but if you did so, you would probably be eligible for some sort of commemorative gold plaque celebrating your outstanding contributions to the field of Understating Things.

So, er, basically -- WELL PLAYED, PRODUCTION TEAM.

Some other things probably happened in last night's Emmerdale too, but regrettably they were all fully-clothed when they were doing it. IT'S ALMOST LIKE THESE PEOPLE DON'T WANT TO BE FEATURED ON THIS BLOG. Come on, work at it!

By the way, talking of Carl being naked (and if we weren't, then I can't think of any sensible reason why not), my mum told me last night that she thinks Carl has abnormal nipples, but can't articulate precisely why she should bring such a slur to these most magestic of teats. (Emmerdale: Bringing Families Together Since 1972, Nipple By Nipple). Anyway, they look normal enough to me, as far as nipples go, so basically, this is where you come in. What do you think about Carl's nipples? Do you think about Carl's nipples? How often? Please email me your thoughts, with regards to size, colour, texture and quantity, to the usual address, with the subject header 'Emmerdale Nipplewatch'. This is so I can easily differentiate between this and all the other nipple-related emails in my inbox, you understand.

Incidentally, it would make me feel a lot better about my life if this was the silliest thing I'd ever published on the Internet, where actual proper humans might have a chance (admittedly, an outside one) of actually seeing it. Or at least in the top hundred.

In other news...

Carrie is jealous of Louise because she gets "a night of passion with a young man in a uniform". Well, yes, while this is strictly true, I think we need to put things in perspective a bit here: a POSTMAN's uniform. Although delivering the post is undeniably an important responsibility, without which society as we know it would CRUMBLE, or at least COMPLAIN ABOUT ITS PHONE BILLS MORE, the impact of 'postman' isn't really in the same league as 'fireman' or 'policeman', is it? I mean, if you slather a postman in oil, he drops his letters! IT'S JUST NOT PRACTICAL.

Anyway, the cracks are beginning to show in Louise and Jamie's relationship: Jamie's "sex now, talk later... oh sorry did I say 'talk'? I meant 'MORE SEX!!'" attitude just isn't compatible with Louise's apparently advancing years (and music taste). At this rate, she might put her back out. While listening to some manufactured '60s pop music. (IT HAPPENS MORE OFTEN THAN YOU'D THINK!)

In other other news...

Babies like to wee on Ashley. Which leads me to wonder, can vicars bless all fluids, or is it limited only to water? Does the child of a priest come fully equipped with Holy Urine? The Bible is not clear on this! In any case, I think that would definitely be useful: sometimes you just can't be bothered to nip back to the church every time there's a dramatic last-minute parish blessing emergency!
Doug is showing dangerous signs of falling into the Emmerdale's Bad Crowd (or 'Zak and Shadrach', as they are known by day). You mark my words, he'll be tickling trout behind the bike sheds soon!
David is being UNDERCUT by a MYSTERIOUS STRANGER. This is unfortunately not nearly as hot as it initially sounds.
Debbie is, as ever, a MASTER OF SUBTLETY.
Grayson and Perdy are incredibly cute. Also, in desperate need of a room.
Eli has a big mouth.
Rosemary is evil.
Several of the above might not actually technically be classed as 'news'.

OH BY THE WAY DID I MENTION...

Anyway, I'll see you again tomorrow, with a more full recap of the day's happenings, and-- OH FORGET IT. I am making no promises until I know exactly who's wearing clothes and when.

THURSDAY 6th SEPTEMBER 2007

2007-09-08T20:24:00.000+01:00

The episode opens with Shadrach, Belle and Zak walking idly down the road while a bus tries its hardest to knock them all down. None of them seem to be at all bothered by this THREAT OF IMMINENT DEATH, probably because Zak could easily beat it in some sort of, I don't know, bare fist fight? DO YOU SEE HOW I SUBTLY REINTRODUCED THAT STORYLINE FROM A FEW WEEKS BACK THERE? Shadders does the same thing, only not so skilfully: "Word has it," he says cheerfully, "that Michael O'Shea's upped the offer, providing with it a new plot device!" My link was so much better.

At this point, Belle, as is her wont, starts asking irritating questions, so they bundle her quickly onto the bus (er, lads, onto... under... really whatever feels natural). Before it drives away, Shadrach warns her that he hopes she's not going to "act clever and start irritating people". Shadders. Mate. In the time since that particular horse bolted, it's had enough time to go on a mad killing spree (wiping out at least 14 small Oxfordshire villages), get arrested, break free in a dramatic feat of show-jumping, make a living selling drugs to small children and shooting a few puppies just for good measure, find God, repent, and retire to a pleasant holiday barn in Spain. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PUT DOWN THE STABLE DOOR.

Oh, and then Eli pops unexpectedly out of a hedge. And even though I think Eli is a fantastic character, he is also one of the few people who can tell someone he's been sleeping rough in a ditch and leave them feeling desperately sorry for the undergrowth. But, anyway, he offers Zak some 'kit', to which Zak responds with one of the best "Do I look like the sort of person who buys stolen goods off of talking shrubbery?" looks I've seen in quite some time. And, with that, he and Shadrach stride haughtily off to the cafe for breakfast. Well, Zak strides haughtily -- Shadrach just sort of follows hopefully with the face of a man who senses a free meal.

Meanwhile, at Home Farm, Rodney presents Matthew with a necklace. "Oh, Rodders," cries Matthew, clasping it lovingly to his chest, "It's simply lovely! Come here, you loveable old rapscallion!". They embrace passionately, and -- oh, wait, sorry, wrong website. No, in actual fact, Rodney is informing Matthew of his IMPORTANT FINDINGS regarding Hotten's SEETHING HOTBED of HEINOUS JEWELLERY HEISTS committed by YOUNG MECHANICS (it's really getting to be something of an epidemic, but what can you do? Those cars just won't fix themselves!). Rodders reckons that there was never a real necklace, and that this whole thing was all a TERRIBLE SCAM. (Which it was, but not in the way he thinks). Following this revelation, Matthew is marginally horrified. Either that, or amused. Or angry. Or slightly baffled. WHEN SOMEONE ONLY HAS ONE AND A HALF FACIAL EXPRESSIONS, IT'S HARD TO TELL, OKAY.

Anyway, Matthew strides into the kitchen, muttering away. Carl's sitting at the table, looking dumbfounded as he reads the obituaries (which I often find are a suitable bit of light-hearted entertainment to accompany one's breakfast). And, you'll never guess, but someone has died! God, death's everywhere nowadays, isn't it? When you start reading about that sort of thing in the obituaries, you know it's a world gone mad! Oh no, wait, the reason he's shocked is that Grace's mother has apparently died. But on the bright side, Carl, at least there'll be no awkward meetings with the in-laws now! Look positive.

In the back room of the Woolpack, Lexi chastises Chas for not holding the truck driver up longer while she sifted through every bottle in the world looking for one tiny necklace. For future reference, Lexi, if you need someone to run interference for that long, you're better off hiring Godot. Anyway, Lexi reckons Chas should have used her womanly wiles to lure him into, er, the bathroom. Chas explains that a girl "has to have a limit". Can I just pause here for a moment to remind you that this is the same girl who recently SEXED A COMPLETE STRANGER TO DEATH? Homicide isn't a viable limit for her, but sex in the toilets? Why, that's just plain unhygienic!

Debbie is (perhaps not) surprisingly unbothered by the whole situation: "We took a risk, it didn't pay off, that's life." OH, WE CAN ONLY WONDER WHAT OTHER EXTERNAL FACTORS COULD POSSIBLY BE AFFECTING HER LAID-BACK AMBIVALENCE! She suggests that they try their luck again at an upcoming Holidays Abroad exhibition (I reckon it'll go something along the lines of, "So, you fancy a holiday in sun-soaked Florida? Right, if you just give us the £5000 now, in cash obviously, we'll give you the tickets. Just, er, ignore the bit where it says 'Destination: Skegness'. Don't be ridiculous, of course you can get to Florida on the bus!"). Chas is out, because she's a good girl. Allegedly. And Lexi will have to think about it.

Meanwhile, at Mill Cottage, Rosemary is giving Perdy a friendly hug. A friendly hug of DEATH. "How are you?" she asks. "You look wonderful! ...Bugger". Perdy apologies for her earlier mad behaviour, while Grayson smiles smugly, proud at this exciting new trick he has taught her. (And when you pat her on the head, she sits down and wags her tail!)

At Home Farm, Rodney fearlessly calls Bruce out on his DASTARDLY SCHEME. Bruce is left a bit confused by all this (quite understandably, because he hasn't got the foggiest what Rodney's actually on about). On the other hand, he's evidently not got an exactly squeaky-clean record -- so maybe, unbeknownst to us all, Debbie Dingle is not in fact working for the very forces of Evil, but actually for great justice!

Nah, that's a bit mad.

Deb's in the pub, very subtly loudly discussing the Scam of the Century with Eric. In public. Just as Lexi comes behind the bar. Nice move, Debbie! Funnily enough, Lexi seems to be (very slowly) twigging that Something Might Be Up! Well, I have no idea how, Debbie, not after you covered your trail with such elaborately well-planned cunning!! Honestly. I remember the days when criminals had to work for their stolen goods!

"Well!" says Laurel's father as he, Hilary, Laurel and Ashley sit around the table at the vicarage, "That hit the spot!" He does indeed seem reasonably satisfied -- I don't know, these vicars' families with their fetishes for incestuous swinging! What can you do with them! Hilary's less impressed, though: she doesn't like 'lettuce' (clearly some sort of sophisticated swinger's slang that I'm not privy to, being neither sophisticated nor a swinger. There is also a small off-chance that she actually is talking about the large pile of lettuce in front of her. I DON'T KNOW, I'M NOT A MIND-READER!). In fact, she announces, she and Doug are leaving! Right away! In an over-dramatic, flouncy sort of way! Because Laurel was mean!

At Hotten police station, Grace is sitting glumly at her desk, just as DCI Vikesh "I Had To Cut Down An Awful Lot Of Forests To Become This Wooden, Let Me Tell You!" Dasari enters. Woodenly. In a wooden sort of way, he asks her if she should be back at work this soon (obviously he was banking on using her office to store some planks while she was away). He looks mildly sympathetic in the same way as a tree might, until a lady comes in and whisks him away because there is a 'criminal' he needs to 'catch'. This is in fact Clever Policeman Talk for 'because he is late for his wood whittling course'.

Back at Mill Cottage, Gray has given his puppy -- er, sorry, Perdy! -- special permission to sit on the sofa! But just this once, and only if she's good and doesn't leave muddy pawprints all over the embroidery. Gray apologises for, y'know, sending her to a mental institution because his mother asked him to, explaining that he only really did it because he loved her! Which is perfectly understandable. I always get my loved ones sectioned! It's an essential ingredient for a healthy modern relationship! Anyway, he says, that's all water under the bridge now, because things are looking up, and "what could possibly go wrong?".

Rosemary saunters in. You called?

At the vicarage, Ashley feels it best to admit to Laurel that Emily did in fact make a pass at his irresistable holy man-meat. Laurel is, quite understandably, not hugely threatened by the whole situation, because she's "not exactly Beyonce". Personally, I think she needs to wise up a bit - it's only a matter of time until... well, if not Beyonce, then one of the lesser, not so attractive, members of Destiny's Child gets their claws into that Casanova-like, nubile hunk of a... vicar! Open your eyes, Laurel, you blind fool!

And we're back to the garage, where Bruce catches up with young Debbie. And promptly starts trying to strangle her. You know, I'm really starting to warm to this bloke!

Laurel, in the meantime, apologises to her mother, admitting that Emily is really a brazen hussy -- but at the same time, she's all, "Butt out please, bitch!". In slightly nicer, more vicar's wife appropriate words, obviously, but the gist is definitely there.

As Bruce continues to (increasingly unconvincingly) threaten Debbie, she, in turn, provides an unconvincing cover story. I think they're in the garage at the moment, but if I'm honest, I'm not really convinced anymore. Debbie calls out to a passing Eli that Bruce is trying to kill her. Eli just smiles cheerfully. You can't blame him, poor bloke, it's the best news he's had in ages.

But then Bruce slaps Debbie round the face, and clearly this is what Eli's (quite unconventional and incredibly short) book of ethics defines as 'crossing the line': "Now, that's not nice, mate," he says, pulling Bruce off Debbie (dangling your own brother off a roof, on the other hand, is what we class as 'lovely'). Bruce knocks him flying. Now, hang on a minute: strangling Debbie and giving Eli a mild concussion, all in one day? This man is my hero! He's a bit like the new Mother Theresa, only if she'd ditched that limiting anti-violence ethos! Unfortunately, Eli's had his whole lifetime to get used to a bit of minor brain damage, and ends up unequivocally winning the fight. And when Bruce gets out his mobile, Eli reminds him that he was sort of the one who started trying to kill Debbie in the first place (although, God knows, there's no court in the country that'd prosecute him). He glares for a bit, then leaves. Poor Bruce. And I had such high hopes.

Afterwards, Debbie smiles (at which point, at least twelve viewers die of abject shock -- I think the producers need to be very careful about letting Debbie try out any facial expression other than 'stormy', 'sulky' and 'a bit annoyed': there are some frail people watching this programme, and they do not want a massacre on their hands) and tells Eli that they both know why he saved her. Actually, I'm not entirely sure, but I've narrowed it down to a shortlist of likely candidates, most of which involve 'sex', 'money', 'blackmail', or possibly all three. "Because I'm a decent bloke, Deb," Eli clarifies. ODDLY ENOUGH THAT WAS NOT ON MY LIST.

Back at the pub, Rodney is gleeful while Paul stands behind the bar, Being Useless. OH WHAT A RADICAL SHIFT IN CHARACTERISATION! Honest to God, if someone stuck a lampshade on that man's head, no one would even notice he was there! That is, obviously, until a few weeks later when the punters might start to wonder when exactly the pub's sort furnishings had become so self-righteous. Anyway, "whatever happened to integrity?" asks Rodney. Integrity Dingle? Don't think I remember her, but 'prison' is probably a safe guess.

Rodney produces the necklace for the benefit of Chas and Lexi, who twitch slightly, and smashes it under a beer glass. Oh, Rodders, aren't you clumsy. "How did he get that?" asks Lexi, who clearly has not been watching the programme. "More to the point," says Chas, "diamonds don't shatter..."

I think the word you're looking for there, Chastity, is 'OWNED'.

Meanwhile at Mill Cottage, Grayson rewards Perdy for her good behaviour by letting her go for walkies. She is very excited by the prospect and bounds about a lot. This dog-owner dynamic evidently seems to work for them. Rosemary, on the other hand, is upset that a) Perdy has not drunk her POISONED orange juice, and b) is being allowed to go for a walk without a sensible leash. Thwarted, Rosemary!

At the Woolpack, Belle gets back from ~~the infernal flames of the Underworld~~ school, and announces that she's won the C-O-M-P-E-T-I-T-I-O-N (Zak: "Completion?"). My god, that child is P-A-I-N-F-U-L-L-Y I-R-R-I-T-A-T-I-N-G.

And, over at the bar, Debbie is once more Masterfully Subtle about her complete lack of emotion regarding the Necklace Debacle. OH NO WAIT SHE'S NOT.

A clarification

2007-09-08T12:37:00.001+01:00

With regards to the potentially misleading title ("Emmerdale Recaps"), I feel I should clarify what exactly is going on here, what sort of madness this might entail. Basically, this is a "blog" where I plan to post "recaps" of of the "television" programme "Emmerdale" (fondly subtitled "Britain's Number One Soap About A Farm And Some Goats"). Evidently when I was coming up with the title, I didn't stop for long enough to consider the confusion that such an ambiguous and unclear name could cause. Honestly! I don't know what came over me. Rest assured, I am not usually so frivolous.