Jennifer’s Nose Is Put Firmly Out Of Joint

Angela Piper (Jennifer Aldridge)

Lexi has gone to see Kirsty and Philip’s new house and she is impressed. However, the pair are less impressed when Kirsty’s neighbour (Joy Horville) turns up and introduces herself. This swiftly turns into a monologue about Joy’s daughter Rochelle, who sounds like a stand-in for Superwoman. So bad was it that, when Joy has gone, Lexi confides to Kirsty that she considered pretending that the baby was on its way just to shut her up. Joy has leapt effortlessly into first place in the ‘character who most deserves a good slap’ competition.

On Monday, Jennifer is talking to Phoebe and happens to mention that she has some stuff to take round to Lexi. Phoebe mentions that Lexi is no longer living at Honeysuckle, but is staying with the Snells at Ambridge Hall - didn’t Lynda know? No she bloody well didn’t, and she rushes off to Ambridge Hall to seek out Lexi. Hammering on the door, Jen is met by Lynda, who tells her that Lexi just needs some space and privacy. Furthermore, both Adam and Ian agree with this and she has their blessing. You can practically hear Jennifer’s blood pressure rising, especially when she tells Jen that Lexi and the two fathers have asked Lynda to ensure that Lexi isn’t disturbed and is left in peace.

Steam is coming out of Jen’s ears and she demands to see Lexi. As luck would have it, Lexi chooses this moment to return from Kirsty’s and greets Jen warmly and invites her in. “You’ve been out!” says Jennifer, astounded. Lexi explains that she just needed time on her own - she could have added ‘away from you, you suffocating old bat’ but she’s much too polite. Jennifer, who we have often said in the past can exhibit the sensitivity of a cast-iron pillar box, proceeds to question Lexi about whether she is carrying out the exercises that Jen sent her, until Lynda steps in and says that Lexi is looking tired and perhaps Jen ought to go and, should she wish to see Lexi again, please ring ahead first. When Jen has been bundled out of the door, Lexi thanks Lynda, who says: “Don’t worry; I will do all I can to keep the world away from your door.”

There was a culinary thread running through some of last week’s stories; let’s get Jennifer out of the way for good - she has plans to enter the Vegan class for the Flower & Produce bake section and has enlisted Kate to help her with the finer points. Kate’s first comment is that Jen is wearing a woollen garment and is she serious about this or not? This would have been a good time for Jen to tell her daughter that she has just remembered that she is unexpectedly washing her hair, and would Kate mind coming back next week, or, preferably, next decade? However, she doesn’t.

The morning of cooking is torture for Brian, who is roped in as chief taster, much against his will. “She fed me compost!” he complained to Jen about one of Kate’s experiments. All Brian wants is a sausage sandwich, but with the kitchen having been declared a Vegan zone, he stands no chance. Should’ve snuck off to the pub, Brian.

Kate is getting into the cookery and tells her mother that she thinks that she (Kate) stands a good chance of carrying off the Best Vegan prize. Just think what a boost that would be for Spiritual Home. The only trouble is that her main rival for the title would be Jennifer, and it wouldn’t look so good if Spiritual Home came second. It takes Jen a while to realise that she is being asked to fall on her sword as far as the F&P Vegan bake is concerned, but Kate rushes in, saying “how sweet of you mum!” although I don’t recall Jen actually agreeing to take a dive. What’s the betting that Kate makes a complete cods of the cooking and Jen enters a dish in her daughter’s name?

Cooking too at Brookfield, where Jill and Leonard are going through stuff from the attic and Jill comes across a recipe, handwritten by Doris Archer, for Scrap Cakes. From what I can gather, this seems to involve some strange cut of pig fat and an ingredient so secret that Doris called it XXXX, which is supremely unhelpful. Nevertheless. Jill thinks it could be a goer in the ‘unusual bakes’ section at the F&P show and allows Leonard to assist her in the kitchen. But there are rules: “Do exactly as I say, don’t talk to much and don’t drop anything.” That’s you told, Leonard.

Halfway through preparation, the phone rings and Leonard (who one presumes has been given special dispensation) answers. It’s Bert Fry - would Jill consider being a judge (along with Ian) in the bakery section of the F&P show? Jill is overjoyed and accepts, then she realises that she won’t be able to enter her scrap cakes. Worry not - Leonard has a plan; he will enter them without telling Jill and Josh and Pip return home to find him furtively looking through the stuff from the attic. He tells them of his plan and Pip takes a photo of the recipe, so that Jill won’t know it’s gone missing. 

I can’t help thinking that Leonard is going to have a bit of a problem in discovering what XXXX is - Jill said that she thinks she can remember, but, as Doris obviously wanted it kept a secret, she will comply with her wishes. Again, I fail to see the logic here - why write a recipe down if you aren’t going to include all the ingredients? I mean, who could make sense of ‘4oz of XYZZ, 1 tsp of ABC, a handful of KLMN and 8fl oz of PQRS’? Sounds pretty damn tasty, doesn’t it, but not much of a legacy for the next generation.

There is a glimmer of hope that Jim might be on the mend. He makes Beef Wellington for himself, Alistair and Jazzer, but Jazzer has a feeling of foreboding - are they being softened up for something? Jim eventually reveals that he’d like his music room (currently doing duty as Jazzer’s bedroom) back. But where would Jazzer go? Jim then springs his second surprise - he’s planning an extension on the side of the house, including a bedroom for Jazzer. Alistair and Jazzer mention this to Philip, the builder, and Jim returns home to find the trio measuring up the garden in the twilight.

Alistair explains that they were talking to Philip and he offered to do an estimate for free, plus he would do the job at cost. A displeased Jim says no thanks - he has already been in touch with someone in Borchester and, when Philip offers to undercut him, an increasingly-prickly Jim says his word is his bond and a disgruntled Philip takes his leave. Alistair accuses his dad of lying and Jim reveals that he couldn’t possibly have someone with Philip’s view of history (he doesn’t agree with Jim that it’s about preserving what’s worth preserving). Alistair is speechless, but, as Jim goes to bed, Jazzer says: “Cantankerous, nitpicking and drives you up the wall - it’s good to have the old Jim Lloyd back again.” Hmm.

Over at Grey Gables, there’s a minor crisis - Ian is going off on paternity leave (or ’sprogwatch’ as that great philosopher Tracy calls it). Gosh! Who saw that coming? Anyway, a kitchen porter is needed and Tracy, risking Lynda’s ire at getting involved in management decisions, suggests Freddie Pargetter. “Oh, no, no” says Lynda, but Oliver says he’ll think about it. He’ll also consider Tracy’s idea of dinner entertainment, such as comedy turns with actors during the meal (a la Fawlty Towers) or murder mystery evenings. How far will Tracy go with her attempts to drag Grey Gables into (at least) the 19^th Century? Banks of slot machines in Reception? Freddie Pargetter discreetly dealing drugs from the kitchen?

At Grange Farm, Eddie is still treading on eggshells as far as his eldest son is concerned. Eddie manages to persuade Will to go to the doctor’s, but when he returns, Will won’t say what they spoke about. Eddie is hoping for counselling, or drugs, or avoidance therapy, where a photo of a shotgun is accompanied by a severe electric shock, but Will is staying shtum. Eddie takes a call from Martyn Gibson (Will’s boss) who wants to know if a) Will is coming back to work and b) if not, could he please produce a sick note? As Gibson is famously intolerant, I for one am surprised at his leniency in the matter of his awol gamekeeper.

Eddie isn’t one to give up, but he’s about as subtle as a bulldozer, so he persists with Will about seeing the doctor. First of all, Will tells Eddie it’s none of his business and Eddie loses it slightly, saying yes it is if it’s affecting the family. Will says that he has got two weeks on the sick to sort himself out and Eddie is flabbergasted to realise that his son hasn’t mentioned the episode with the gun - didn’t Will tell her what happened a week ago?

“That’s all behind me now” Will replies, but Eddie insists that the doctor needs to know at least something of what happened. Then, with a lack of subtlety remarkable even for a Grundy, Eddie asks Will if he has ever considered doing a job other than gamekeeping - a job that has no connection with guns, perhaps?

Will says that he doesn’t know anything other than gamekeeping - besides, if he’s not a gamekeeper, he will lose his house and gamekeeping is all he’s ever wanted to do. Defiantly, he tells his father: “I’ve got two weeks to sort myself out, then I go back to work - as a gamekeeper.”

Let us finish with Pip and Phoebe, with the latter revealing a chilling and horrible possible future for herself. Phoebe wanted the subject of rewilding brought up at the Home Farm partnership meeting, but she has no part to play in the partnership, so Kate was deputed to raise the subject. Whose mad idea was that? PPR wanted 50 acres of Home Farm land for rewilding - at least this would show Peggy that some progress had been made. Unfortunately Kate (who Phoebe admits “can be a bit shouty”) blew it, by laying into Rooooth, asking what sort of mother is she if she won’t even back her daughter? 

The words ‘Red’, ‘Rag’ and ‘Bull’ spring to mind and Rooooth is not best pleased with her daughter (who in this case is totally blameless). Pip and Phoebe meet up and the talk turns to mothers and how difficult they can be. Phoebe is especially worried about her mother, saying: “I do love her” (Why, for heaven’s sake?) “But I’m not sure I want to turn into her.” Sorry Phoebe, but if it were me, I’d be 100% certain how sure I’d be.