Normal Hostilities Are Resumed

Sunny Ormonde (Lilian Bellamy)

Lilian and Lynda have been getting a bit pally lately. Lynda is contemplating buying a wig, but is unsure how she will look – there’s no point asking Robert, as he will just say what he thinks his wife wants to hear, rather than what he really thinks; who can Lynda turn to for the honest, unvarnished truth? Step forward Lilian Bellamy – if you need somebody to point out your shortcomings, then Lilian is the gal for you; nobody could ever accuse Lil of calling a spade a manually-operated, earth-inverting, horticultural implement and she tells it like it is, whether you like it or not.

First things first; when the two women are having a Zoom meeting and Lynda is showing off a selection of syrups, Lilian persuades her to open a bottle of wine and, to demonstrate feminine solidarity, Lilian joins her in a G&T. Lynda confesses to being worried that Robert doesn’t find her attractive any longer; she doesn’t look the same. Lilian retorts that she hardly notices Lynda’s scars any longer, but Lynda tells her about the debacle when she attempted a romantic seduction, which ended with Robert making her a cup of cocoa.

The pair eventually settle on a suitable wig, but Lynda is still plagued by doubt – will Robert like it, or even notice? If you wanted him to notice, Lynda, I’d have gone with a bubblegum-pink wig, rather than the short, chestnut model. All this introspection prompts Lilian to examine her own appearance and she concludes that, all in all, she’s not doing too badly, looks-wise, although we should perhaps consider that maybe her view is being coloured by the Gin Goggles. Whatever, Lilian says that she is luckier than Lynda, and hopes “that Lynda blows Robert’s socks off with the new wig.” I think that Lynda had set her sights a bit higher than hosiery removal, Lilian.

As it turns out, Robert doesn’t comment on the new hairpiece. While out shopping, he does wonder if he offended Lynda by not mentioning it, but he says to himself that she doesn’t need it and he loves her as she is – he just needs to be able to read the signs that she’s giving out. I don’t know about offended, but she’s certainly bloody angry, and took her anger out on poor Chris Carter, who turned up with the wrought iron hanging basket that Robert had commissioned as a surprise. Having told him to dump it on the lawn and go, she starts to calm down and admits that it’s quite attractive. “But it doesn’t exactly scream passion,” she says, adding: “I doubt Chris would give one to Alice.” Assuming we are still talking about hanging baskets, I’d agree with that last statement, Lynda.

Lynda rang Chris to apologise for her bad temper, then rang Lilian to tell her about Robert’s total lack of reaction. Lilian decides to take matters in hand and gives Robert a call (he’s still out shopping). She begins by asking how is Lynda and suggests that Robert should be more observant and more imaginative. Robert says that he did notice the new wig, but he didn’t know how his wife wanted him to react, so he deemed it wiser to say nothing. It soon becomes obvious that Lilian knows all about last week’s seduction fiasco and he is worried. “What if I hurt her – I don’t want to disturb anything” he says.

Lilian, in her caring way, asks him whether he’s a man or a mouse and, when he replies “definitely the former”, she says “good, because that’s what Lynda needs just now.” Robert still has doubts – “But what if I can’t manage it?” he asks. No problem; Lilian tells him to swing past her place on his way home, as she’s “got something that will take care of everything.”

The next time we hear from Lynda, she is furious, as she caught him taking a pill (presumably Viagra or similar) and immediately went off at the deep end, saying that she felt “humiliated” that her husband had to resort to chemical stimulants. Robert has slunk off to the shepherd’s hut and Lynda says that he can stay there. Robert is not the only one with whom Lynda is upset, as she accuses Lilian of betraying things that Lynda told her in strictest confidence. “How dare she! I don’t want anything to do with that woman – not any more! And as for Robert – forget how he feels about me; I’m not sure that I’ll ever feel the same about him again!”

In the past, Lynda and Lilian have had more than their fair share of quarrels and clashes, but since Lynda’s accident, the two were moving closer towards friendly relations. However, as the title of this week's blog demonstrates, this is no longer the case and – on Lynda’s part at least – the pair are back at daggers drawn. What I find interesting is why Lilian had such a ready supply of Viagra – is Justin in need of pepping up in bed, or does Lilian keeps some handy, just in case? I think we should be told.

While we are talking about people who don’t really like each other much, the week began with Ed being sacked by Brian because he unloaded a trailer of wheat into a bay that contained malting barley, thus making the latter unsaleable at a premium price. As Ed has only just been taken back on at Home Farm, it might be easier if they fitted a revolving door on the barn. What is making Ed really angry is that it was Alice who told him where to tip the wheat, so it’s her fault. However, she hasn’t got round to telling her father this and Brian gave Ed the mother of all dressing downs before sacking him.

Ed confronts Alice, who says that she will confess to Brian, but the time’s not right at the moment. Ed is getting ratty and says that, if Alice doesn’t tell Brian, then Ed will. Things are made worse because, although Ed has been sacked, there is no-one else to drive the trailer, so he is working under Brian’s baleful glare as he watches him like a hawk. Ed points out that Alice is asking Ed to sacrifice his professional reputation in order to save hers. 

Eventually, Alice does confess to Brian and, while he gave her a good talking to, it was as nothing compared to things he said to Ed when the incident occurred. To be fair to Brian, when he learns the truth, he apologises to Ed, blaming his bad temper on the stress of having to work with Adam out of action after his accident. Brian even offers Ed a bonus and Ed feels a twinge of guilt, as he is already being paid double time by Alice. Then he remembers that he is a Grundy after all, and the moment swiftly passes.

When he has been exonerated, Ed reflects on some of the things he said to Alice, notably about how the Aldridges pick you up when they need you and then drop you when they don’t. Perhaps he went a bit over the top, and he goes to see Alice and make peace. Alice, however, isn’t in the mood for reconciliation and she tells Ed that she clearly remembers every word he said and she won’t forget in a hurry. In fact, Alice is just the other side of unpleasant and tells Ed that he and Emma deserve each other and get back to their poky caravan. 

Ed goes, before he says something even worse. Although he describes Alice as ‘his mate’, relations between Alice and her sister-in-law Emma have never been what you might describe as ‘cordial’ – in fact, the two women cannot really stand each other. As Ed drives away, he reflects on the conversation with Alice and he realises that she was, not to put too fine a point on it, drunk – and this was in the office at 4.30pm (best not to let Lilian know, or she would describe her niece as a woos and a lightweight for waiting till 4.30).

This leaves Ed in a dilemma - what should he do? He cannot talk to Alice about it and he cannot mention it to Chris or anyone else in the family. “If Susan knew, it would be all round the village in 20 minutes” Ed says to himself. Rubbish! It would be all over Borsetshire in that time – less if Susan mentioned it in her radio show (something that I am delighted to say is not getting much air time at the moment). 

Ed says that the situation reminds him of when he went off the rails some time back and he knows all the tricks to use when you are trying to hide something. Perhaps his wisest course is to keep an eye on Alice from afar. “Maybe I can be a bit of a guardian angel to Alice” he says, adding: “It looks like she might need one.” That’s the idea Ed – masterful inactivity.

Continuing the theme of Alice and her love for the barmaid’s apron, she is exercised by the fact that Chris and Ed had a beer when Chris and Alice had made a pact not to drink during weekday evenings. Alice wormed the truth out of Emma – not that it took much worming; Emma couldn’t wait to tell her (see earlier comments about how they cannot stand each other) – and Alice then laid a guilt trip on her husband for breaking their pact and betraying her trust. Chris apologises abjectly, even though he only had half a can of lager (Alice probably spills more than that before breakfast).

It’s hard to believe, but Alice and Chris will be celebrating their 10^th wedding anniversary in June, yet sometimes you wonder if they really know each other very well. Take, for example, their thoughts after this incident; Alice thinks that everything’s going wrong (mistakes at work and suchlike) and that she and Chris are drifting apart, while he thinks that it all went well and they didn’t argue. “Hopefully we’re back on track” he says and resolves to do something nice for his wife – I expect she would really appreciate a case of vodka, or some really nice wine – a couple of cases should see her through the weekend.

There is no doubt that Alice has a problem, but such is her capacity for self-delusion that she is never likely to admit, or even to realise, it. As an example, when she was accusing Chris of breaking their pact (you will be delighted to know – or rather Alice will be delighted – that Chris has now decided to end the ban on midweek drinking) she said, in all seriousness, that the only reason she used to drink in the shed was so that Chris wouldn’t be tempted to have a drink. Personally, I reckon the chances of there being anything left for him to drink were zero.