Alistair Detects A Spark In Shula’s Demeanour

Judy Bennett (Shula Hebden Lloyd)

At the beginning of the week, we learn that Shula is one year into her Ordination course and it has involved a lot of reading and writing. She tells Alice (who has come to see her horse Banjo) that at times, she is just grateful to be around horses at the Stables. There is a slightly awkward moment when Alice asks if she can take Banjo out? Shula says that it is up to Alice, but she must promise 1. That Banjo will be totally safe in her care, and 2. That Alice has not been drinking today. In the end, Alice decides that it is enough just to groom Banjo and talk to him.

But what’s all this about a spark? I hear you ask. Patience, dear reader; we will get to that, although we listeners had to wait until Thursday. Meanwhile, Neil is getting earache from Susan, who is getting a bit ratty because of lack of sleep due to night feeds for Martha. Susan is also stressing because she and Neil haven’t spent a lot of time with their other grandchildren. So it is that we see Neil out for a walk with Martha, and he drops into the Stables to talk over an idea with Shula – how about riding lessons for Keira?

Shula thinks it would be a good idea, and suggests that they let Keira try it out to see if she likes it. Not only that, but Shula would like to help, so the first lesson or two would be on the house. Neil protests that this isn’t why he asked and so he and Shula arrive at a compromise – she will provide a free lesson or two and Neil will tidy up her garden, which it apparently needs. This atmosphere of amiability is broken by Susan, frantically squawking on the phone to her husband – where is he? Doesn’t he remember that Susan is supposed to be taking Martha to the Aldridges to see Jenny? No he doesn’t, is the short answer, so that’s another couple of Brownie Points gone west.

However, a riding lesson is arranged for Keira later in the week and Neil turns up at the Stables, saying that he might as well get started on the gardening, which he does. Shula is concerned about the weather forecast, but Neil is optimistic – wrongly so, as it turns out, as the rain descends in Biblical proportions and he and Shula are soaked to the skin. She suggests they get inside before one of them drowns, and this they do. As luck would have it, Alistair turns up, just in time to see Neil coming down the stairs, clad in one of Dan’s old tracksuits – a Harry Potter one, to be accurate. It doesn’t fit very well, which is reassuring, as Dan is an officer in the Tank Regiment and I cannot help thinking that him having such attire to wear around barracks would do sod-all for his street cred in the Regiment, nor would it command the respect of the men under his command, I venture to suggest.

By the way, if you are concerned about Keira during this downpour, then don’t be; they threw her in the Am just before it began, so she couldn’t get any wetter. Sorry, that’s a complete fabrication – her lesson was taking place in the indoor school, so she was bone dry throughout. Mind you, I prefer my version of events.

But back to the Shula, Neil, Alistair scenario. Remember, Alistair has seen Neil coming downstairs, looking like an aged and podgy Harry Potter, and Shula starts an uncontrollable fit of the giggles – in fact, she laughs her head off. Alistair offers Neil some old clothes that he has at the office, and Neil accepts gratefully, dons said clothes and goes to collect Keira and take her home.

Shula is still doing her impression of the Laughing Policeman and tells Alistair that she hasn’t laughed like that for years; “The neighbours will think I’m having an affair!” she jokes. And not just the neighbours, it seems, as Alistair is silent. Shula picks up on this and says the very idea is preposterous. “Is it?” he asks, and points out that Neil and Shula do have some history, back in the day. More than that; he has seldom seen her so happy recently and he thinks he might have glimpsed a spark of happiness – of radiance, even, plus she was a little bit flirty, he adds, and you know how easily gossip can start. Yes – just tell Susan.

Shula rubbishes the very idea and says that she and Neil are just good friends and, if she didn’t know better, she would say that her ex-husband was jealous. “You couldn’t be more wrong” she tells Alistair. Come on Alistair; Shula is halfway to becoming a priest, and I’m pretty sure that committing adultery – even with some poor sod married to Susan – would be frowned upon by the church authorities, so stop this silly storyline now, please, scriptwriters.

Elsewhere, Eddie’s scheme to offer people lifts in the limo (free of charge, although if you force it on him, he will accept a tip, or a contribution towards running costs – then he might unlock the doors and let you out) seems to be a nice little earner. Jill gave him £20 when he took her and Leonard to The Bull. £20! If you are talking about one end of Ambridge from the other, it cannot be more than two or three miles, tops, surely? No wonder that Clarrie (and here is an excellent example of the triumph of hope over experience) says that she thinks he might be on to something this time, and she has dug out Joe’s old driving gloves, which he wore when he took Bartleby out in the trap – and whatever happened to Bartleby and Gem, I wonder? To cap it all (and yes, I am making a pun) she has found a chauffer’s hat.

We had a clash of two mighty intellects, when Rex and Eddie met up when Rex had been shopping. Eddie says that Rex should organise himself better and have just one weekly shopping trip “like Peggy Woolley does”. Rex corrects him “did, you mean” and goes on to explain that he always used to take Peggy to Underwoods once a week, but this week she rang him and said he wouldn’t be needed. Rex then notices that Eddie is wearing a suit and tie, and is he going on somewhere? Eddie replies that he is taking Lynda out for a ride in his limo, as a ‘thank you’ for organising the Fete, yet again. He’s then taking her to the Tea Room for cake and coffee. Rex doesn’t notice anything suspicious about this.

There’s a bit of backstory needed here, as Eddie rang Lynda earlier, ostensibly to congratulate her on doing the Fete again. Lynda says that you’d think it would organise itself by now, but once again she has to shoulder the burden. “It needs a concept; an inspiring vision to give it shape,” she tells him, adding that “years of doing it have left my inspirational cupboard somewhat bare.” Tell you what Lynda, why not make this year’s theme ‘Pretentious Claptrap’? Eddie however has an idea – what she needs is a break, and what better than a ride in a limo? Lynda is persuaded and says that she would really like to be driven to Darrington.

Fast forward to 4.45 pm and Rex is at the Tea Room, talking to Lynda. Lynda relates her trip to Darrington, where she instructed Eddie to drive slowly past Evangeline Lowminster’s (the organiser of Darrington’s Mystery Plays) house and hoot his horn. Evangeline emerged, just as Lynda gave her a regal wave, then turned and bolted indoors. In a voice dripping with smugness, Lynda told Rex how much she enjoyed it.

It would appear that Rex’s mental gears have been engaged, but, like the Mills of God, they grind exceeding slowly. Rex has put together the limo, the lack of customers for his taxi, and Eddie’s smart attire and realised that Eddie has been poaching his customers. Just then, Eddie returns and Rex confronts him – he has been poaching Rex’s regular customers, and the more work that Eddie gets, the less there is for Rex. Eddie protests that he offers the service for free, but if people want to give him a tip, or expenses, who is he to refuse? In response, Rex says that he’s pretty sure it’s not legal (ask him if he declares it as earned income to HMRC, Rex) and Lynda steps in as peacemaker – how would it be if Eddie continued offering his ‘free service’ (my inverted commas) to the village, but agreed not to poach Rex’s regular customers? There is much grumbling from both sides, but they agree. Rex says “But I’m warning you Eddie – I’ll be watching you.”

The main story of the week involved Adam. On the eve of his birthday, he invites Lee round for a few beers. Ian is at home and, when Lee asks Adam how did he get on with clearing the air with Brian, Adam begs him to keep his voice down, as Ian knows nothing about the row between Adam and Brian – and that’s the way Adam would like it to stay for now.

Ian wants to sound the other two out about an idea he has had – supplying mobile artisan food. I must admit I had the vision of a sort of upmarket fish and chip van. Adam is appalled at Ian’s timing and asks where would they get the money from? Ian replies that he is sure that they could find enough for a van, but only Adam knows that they couldn’t afford a bicycle with a box on the back, never mind a van. Ian appeals to Lee – what does he think? This puts Lee on the spot, and, to Ian’s disgust, he sides with Adam. Ian warns that he won’t give up on his idea.

The next day, at Home Farm, Brian tells Adam that he’s got to go to Ambridge View to take Chris’s birthday present and it quickly becomes obvious that Brian has totally forgotten that it’s Adam’s birthday too. He only finds out when Brian asks why is there a cake on his desk? “It’s from mum for my birthday” Adam replies and, to his credit, Brian is mortified and apologises, blaming the stress of the Alice situation. The two of them start talking about the current situation at Home Farm and it soon deteriorates into the usual slanging match, which ends when Adam says perhaps what he needs is a fresh start. Brian says fine, but can Adam at least stay until harvest is over? They agree not to tell the family just yet – a wise decision, I reckon, as if Jenny thought Adam was leaving, she would go totally Orang Utan poo and Brian’s life would be made hell.

Adam decides to put out a few feelers (well, one actually) and he asks Justin what would happen if a rival farmer bid for the BL contract? Justin replies that they would have to consider it, but it would be a foolish farmer that tried to undercut Brian. “Your stepfather has a well-deserved reputation for ruthlessness” he explains, and goes on to say that Brian could make things very difficult for a potential rival. Justin is well aware what Adam is getting at and offers some advice; he thinks that if a hypothetical farmer wanted to go his own way, it would be so much better to make a completely fresh start and not just do a different version of the same thing time after time. Adam thanks him for being so helpful. 

There’s your answer Adam – a completely fresh start is what’s needed, so forget farming and forget Home Farm. As it happens, I might know of a chef who could be looking for a delivery driver for his newly-created artisan food delivery venture…

And Don’t Call Them ‘Dollies’, Joy

Jackie Lye (Joy Horville)

Over at Beechwood, Joy is babysitting while Helen and Lee take in a drive-in movie at Lower Loxley. As well as the film, one of the attractions is ‘woodland raised pulled pork’ on the Orangery menu, which both agree is delicious. Just hang on a minute here – ‘woodland raised’? – the pigs have only been at Lower Loxley for about a fortnight, during which time they have been slaughtered and butchered; I respectfully submit that there are punters who attended an evening at ‘Deck the Halls’ who have spent more time at Lower Loxley than Rex’s pigs. 

But never mind. Helen phones Joy to see how she is coping, and she says that the boys are having the time of their lives – Jack found some figures in a cupboard upstairs and the boys have had a great time, making up stories and playing with the dollies. Helen is horrified – the so-called ‘dollies’ are part of Lee’s collection of Marvel heroes, lovingly collected over many years and kept in pristine condition. Indeed, as we learn later, some of them have never been taken out of their boxes.

Well, they have now, and some of the boxes are worse for wear, so eager were the boys to get their hands on the figures. Joy suggests that Helen trawls the Internet, to see if she can replace the boxes. She does so, but is appalled to be quoted a price in excess of US$ 200 for one figure – as she points out to Joy, that particular figure they have is perfectly intact, and she is not going to pay $200 for a cardboard box.

It’s time to ‘fess up to Lee and the two women do it together. He is less than happy and it is now that we learn that some of the figures have never been removed from their boxes, when Lee remarks that Wolverine’s claws are soft plastic, and not the hard plastic that he had imagined. Helen points out that this is probably so as not to hurt the children who play with them. Lee is almost in a state of shock, and is not comforted when Joy tells him that “it’s only the boxes – the dollies are all OK.”

When Joy tells him how happy the boys were, playing with the figures, Lee (still holding Wolverine) realises that the figures were designed to be played with and says that “these things happen” and perhaps he can let Jack and Henry have access to some of the less-valuable figures. Lee ls obviously one of those people you see occasionally on programmes like Antiques Roadshow, who still have their boyhood toys in their original boxes. ‘Lucky them’ I always think, as, when I was younger, if a cousin – or an acquaintance – came to our house, and my toys were visible, my mother would see them playing with them, say to me ‘you don’t play with that very often, do you?’ and let them take my Sunbeam Alpine home.

Still, I’m not bitter (well, actually I am, but there is nothing to be done about it more than half a century later, so we’ll move on). Joy featured prominently last week, as Fallon recommended her to Lynda for the Fete committee. Lynda arranged for Joy to call round “for an interview” and was put out when Joy said “it’s hardly like running the Bank of England, is it?” Lynda’s sniff made it plain that she considers organising the Fete as much more complicated and definitely much more important.

However, Lynda might have met her match in Joy, as Joy relates how she started up a majorette troupe for her daughter and raised funds to provide batons, costumes and the like and, when these were stolen, Joy started from scratch and did the whole thing over again. Lynda says to Joy that she can come along to the next meeting and Lynda expects that Joy will be content to listen quietly and learn. Ha! In your dreams Mrs Snell, I reckon.

It’s a big week for Phoebe and Rex, who are ready to welcome their first camping families to the Rewilding project. They have made a conscious decision to start small. Roy visits the site and asks if there’s anything he can do to help. “We do know what we’re doing, dad” Phoebe replies, a trifle haughtily, so Roy goes off to work.

Phoebe and Rex congratulate themselves on being prepared, until Phoebe mentions the solar-powered lights for the loos – has Rex set them up? No – he thought that Phoebe was taking delivery of them first thing. Much arguing and a phone call later, it transpires that the firm did try to deliver the lights earlier, but because nobody was around, they took them away again. They cannot deliver again until tomorrow and Rex and Phoebe are terrified that their guests will be stumbling around in the dark, trying to find the loo – imagine how bad the reviews are going to be!

Where can they turn? Roy to the rescue! He calls in a few favours from his extensive list of contacts and before you know it, a solar generator is installed and lights are working. Roy says that he tells everybody about the Rewilding project and how proud he is of his clever daughter – proud too that she had the guts to start up her own business; something that he has never done. Father and daughter share a moment and a hug.

From family bonding, we move to the opposite end of the spectrum, with yet more friction and controversy at Home Farm - specifically between Brian and Adam (no change there, then). The trouble starts brewing on Monday, when Brian visits the office, where Adam is working late. Brian is going through the farm accounts, and he finds a puzzling discrepancy.

Brian is actually looking to see if it would be possible for him to take his share of the Farm’s profits earlier than planned, as Alice’s rehab is going to cost considerably more than he expected. However, looking at the figures, it seems that the machinery investment bank account is £5,000 lighter than it should be. Adam tells him to leave it and he will sort it out in the morning. But Brian is on the scent – the money went missing in March, which was when Alice was working in the office, and Brian is convinced that she is behind this. Again, Adam tries to persuade Brian to let it drop for the moment, but he is adamant; they cannot let her get away with taking the money. Finally, in exasperation, Adam blurts out “Alice didn’t take the money – I did.”

That was the end of Monday’s episode, so we weren’t privy to what went on after this announcement, but the next day, Adam is explaining the reasons for his actions to Lee. Why Lee, I couldn’t say – perhaps he’s the only person in Ambridge who won’t bit Adam’s head off – but the story told by Adam is that he needed the money to pay the electrician, whose bill for rewiring Honeysuckle Cottage was higher – considerably higher – than the estimate. As such, Adam ’borrowed’ £5 k as a short-term fix and hasn’t got round to repaying it yet. Lee’s advice is to repay the money asap and apologise to Brian – this will demonstrate that he wants to put things right and they can both move on. Adam’s way of thinking is to let Brian stew for a while, but Lee describes this as ‘unhelpful.’

Am I missing something here? Adam has – let’s not call a spade an manually-operated, earth-inverting, horticultural implement here – embezzled, stolen, purloined (choose your favourite description) and he is going to let Brian stew? If I were Brian, I’d be dialling 999 right now. Adam is upset that Brian practically called him a thief, but how else do you describe someone who takes money that’s not theirs? The point that he intended to return it is academic, surely?

As it turns out, Adam does get a personal loan from the bank and he tells Brian that he has paid the money back. Brian says “fine” and carries on repairing the bird-proof netting. Adam is nettled by his attitude and points out that Brian was looking at the accounts in the first place to see if he could get an advance on his profit share. Adam adds that he has said ‘sorry’ (which isn’t actually accurate). Brian’s reply is that he would only take money out of the business after telling the other partners, and not just help himself. 

I would also make the point that £5,000 is a considerable sum to just let slip your mind, but then again I’m not a farmer and I obviously don’t move in circles where such a sum of money is regarded as petty cash.

The conversation between the two men becomes increasingly acrimonious and Adam asks bitterly why does Brian treat him differently from his siblings? “How am I supposed to treat you when I can’t even trust you?” Brian replies. This is too much for Adam, who spits out “Trust? From the man who dumped another woman’s child on mum?” Brian ignores this and takes it as evidence that Adam feels threatened by Ruairi, plus Brian doesn’t think that he does treat Adam differently from the others.

Adam says that Ruairi is a smart kid, whom Adam loves, but farming for him is just something to occupy the time between school and university, whereas Adam has put his heart and soul into Home Farm. He accuses Brian of not listening to him, but Brian counters that he does listen; he just doesn’t always believe him. Adam is astounded – when it comes to believing his children, Alice has been lying to them all for years, yet Brian chooses not to believe Adam? “Alice is sick.” Brian says.

In reply, Adam says so is he – sick of being somewhere where he’s not wanted. “So why not leave?” asks Brian. He agrees that the current arrangement isn’t working for either of them, and the last thing Jennifer needs is further upset. Adam is aghast at the thought of leaving Home Farm, but Brian says that, if things continue as they are, he wants Adam out from under his feet: “If I’m going to support your mother and help Alice through the worst time in her life, I need a Farm Manager I can rely on, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that just isn’t you!”

And there the week ended. Will Adam leave? Where would he go? How thrilled would Ian be? I cannot help but think that, should Adam leave and it became known to Jennifer that this was the result of her husband’s attitude to Adam, then, if I were Brian, I wouldn’t get my goolies too close to any mangle when Jenny is around (in the unlikely event that Home Farm possesses such an implement). But that leaves us with the question who could possibly take over as Farm Manager? Hang on a sec – wasn’t there that guy who went to America? What was his name, now? It will come to me in a second – Rob…Rob Tich-something… no, sorry, it’s gone, I’m afraid…

Tact Has Never Been The Aldridges’ Strong Suit

Barry Farrimond (Ed Grundy)

I think that all the years when Brian and Jennifer Aldridge were acting like they were Lords of the Manor must have gone to their heads. Cast your mind back a few years; they certainly appeared to have it all – swimming pool, a luxury kitchen that would make your average Michelin-starred chef turn green with envy, a wine cellar to die for, and more than sufficient money. Then you poison one little stream and you find yourself in court, having to pay thousands in fines and clear-up fees, your house is sold and you are forced to downsize to a house which isn’t big enough to accommodate your all-singing, all-dancing combine. Life can be cruel. 

How are the mighty fallen! But old habits die hard and they have both retained a surprisingly-high degree of arrogance. This was demonstrated firstly by Jennifer, who sought out Ed and asks if she could talk to him about Alice. Ed is mystified – what can he do? Jen’s reply is along the lines of ‘I don’t understand what Alice is thinking about – I know you were a drug addict once, so can we talk?’ Ed is mightily taken aback by this direct approach, but he eventually invites her in to discuss things.

First of all, Ed says that, if it hadn’t been for Oliver, he would probably be dead now; there was one day when Ed nearly died from an overdose, but Oliver believed in him, laid down some ground rules and made sure he kept to them. At the time, Ed was homeless and he went to pieces (this was at the time when Emma and George left their caravan and went home to live with Neil and Susan). Ed’s own family disowned him, because of him bedding Emma on the eve of her wedding to Will, and Neil wouldn’t let him in the house.

Despite this sad story, Jenny points out that Ed came through it, which proves that it is possible to beat an addiction, so there may be hope yet. Ed points out that it is easier for some than others – while he was at rock bottom, Alice, by contrast, has everything on a plate; a nice house, a loving husband and a good job, not to mention a baby daughter.

Jennifer takes her leave and her next port of call is on Fallon, at the tea shop. Jenny has not yet settled up the bill for the spread that Fallon provided on the day of Martha’s christening. Fallon says that the current situation must be worrying for Jennifer and, upon this, Jenny loses control and bursts into tears, saying how heartbreaking it is to see someone you love slowly destroying herself and shutting friends and family out of their life. Fallon replies that she is sure that Alice never meant to hurt Fallon, but Alice is ill “and ill people need help, don’t they?”

Next day, Brian is working from home and tells Alice that Jennifer has asked if Alice could prepare the meal, as Jen might be late home. Afraid not, says Alice, as she has a table booked at The Fox – she’s going with someone else. Brian almost explodes with anger; he assumes it’s a man. Alice says ‘no’. “So it’s a woman?” Brian says, still shouting. “Well worked out, Dad” replies Alice, and she tells him that the woman is, in fact, Fallon, much to Brian’s amazement.

On his way to Berrow Farm, Brian calls in on Fallon and asks her what does she think she’s playing at? He calls her ‘deceitful’ and says how could she do this when they are all trying to stop Alice drinking? “And we can do without her so-called friends encouraging her.” With commendable – almost superhuman – restraint, Fallon stops herself giving him a gobfull of fingers (as my partner Louise so delicately phrases it) and tells him to stop right there. This pub visit was not her idea, and was booked in advance by Alice – and surely it’s better for Alice to have someone with her, rather than drink alone?

Brian moves on to Berrow, in a less-than-happy frame of mind, only to find Neil accompanied by Jazzer – what’s he doing there; he doesn’t start work for a week or two? Neil explains that Jazzer is giving up some free time to see how the farm works, plus he has spent an hour or so helping Neil to re-site the arks, and doesn’t Brian think that that’s very generous of him, seeing as he didn’t have to come in? Brian is in no mood to be generous and confronts Neil with the farm’s performance figures, which he says are simply not good enough. Neil disagrees, but politely so, which contrasts sharply with Brian’s totally grumpy and offensive attitude. Brian stalks off. As he does so, Ed arrives to pick Jazzer up and Neil apologises for Brian’s remarks, “but I suppose we have to make allowances” (personally, I prefer the ‘Louise solution’ mentioned in the previous paragraph). As Neil goes, Jazzer wonders whether, having escaped Home Farm’s Aquaponics operation to work at Berrow, he has jumped from the frying pan into the fire.

However, has Brian had a Christmas-Carol-Scrooge-Like-Epiphany? Or maybe someone has modified the Louise solution, substituting ‘humble pie’ for ‘a gobfull of fingers’? Whatever, on his way home, Brian drops in on Fallon and offers her an apology “for shooting my mouth off before I knew all the facts” and he now understands why she and Harrison turned down being Martha’s godparents, and he apologises again. Instead of saying ‘OK, who are you and what have you done with the real Brian Aldridge?’, Fallon says that Alice needs professional help, and, when Brian replies that she had that when she was away at the clinic earlier, Fallon says“ she needs REHAB “and she is going to have to want to undergo it.”

Just to show that it’s not just strangers to whom the Aldridges are rude, Jenny goes to see Peggy and tells her that Peggy’s example – staying with her alcoholic husband for years – has inspired Brian and Jenny not to give up. Peggy astounds her daughter by saying that she wishes she had given up and walked away and that she knew Alice was an alcoholic as far back as New Year’s Eve. Not only that, but Peggy told Chris that Martha’s safety is of paramount importance and he must do what he can to protect her. Jennifer interprets this as Peggy telling Chris to leave Alice, and Peggy says “if it became necessary, yes.” This is all too much for Jenny, who says that Peggy has made things ten times worse. “I’m sorry, mum,” Jennifer says, “but I don’t see how I’ll ever be able to forgive you.”

Later on, Brian and Jennifer hold a council of war about Rehab – Brian says he’s found a suitable-looking place, and it is eye-wateringly expensive. He also produces a form, which gives them authority to act on Alice’s behalf – all it needs is her signature. Neither parent has mentioned the word ‘Rehab’ to their daughter, and Jenny says they must be tactful with Alice. 

Ha! In your dreams! This discussion is being held over supper and Alice has just nipped off to the loo. She returns and Brian says they have been talking and he uses the ‘R’ word. Not bad Brian – you held out for all of five seconds there. Alice pours scorn on the very idea, saying that Rehab is for people who want to give up drinking and she doesn’t want to give up. Apparently, the treatment lasts between four to six weeks, and Alice says she couldn’t bear to be away from Martha for that long, to which Mr. Tact Brian says that she doesn’t spend much time with Martha at the moment, anyway.

Alice then blames Susan for poisoning Chris’s mind against her and turns on her parents – they’ve done precious little to stand up for her. An incensed Brian says “How dare you blame us for this?” and it is all too much for Jennifer, who says she cannot bear it any longer – they are only acting in Alice’s interests and Jen is very afraid that they are going to lose her. “I’m not going anywhere” Alice says, but Jenny explains that she meant that she is afraid that Alice is going to die if she carries on like she is at the moment.

Alice announces that she is going to her room, and Brian once again demonstrates his caring side and his super-abundance of tact when he calls after her “Another drink? Is that your answer?” Well done Brian - you really know how to handle a difficult situation; I’m surprised you didn’t just nail her to the wall and give her a damn good thrashing.

It’s just another typical evening in the Aldridge household, but there is a surprise in store, as Alice reappears and says “Where is this paper you want me to sign?” “Are you serious?” asks Brian, to which Alice replies that she has brought her own pen, and promptly signs the document of authority. Jennifer is deliriously happy and tells her that she and Brian will be with her every step of the way. “We’ll beat this thing – together” she tells her daughter.

Meanwhile, I expect you are wondering where is Chris while all this is going on? Emma asks Harrison and Fallon if they would be prepared to go out for an evening with her and Chris, as he could do with a change of scene and some company. Fallon isn’t keen, as she fears the evening could end up as a ‘let’s all slag off Alice’ exercise and she points out to Chris that Alice is her friend, as well as Chris. He asks what if he promised it would be an Alice-free event? Not only that, but he would tell Emma to rein in the vitriol about Alice. Rather reluctantly, Fallon agrees.

Things do not bode well, when Emma is detained at an over-running Parish Council meeting. Chris is unusually quiet, and the reason is that this was the place where he took Alice to celebrate her 30^th, and it is bringing back unwanted memories (it was Emma who unwittingly booked the restaurant, by the way). He feels he should phone Susan to check on Martha and that he’d like to go home if they don’t mind. 

As they are on their way, Fallon asks Harrison to pull over and she tells Chris not to be so hard on himself. Harrison agrees, telling Chris that both he and Fallon are there for him. Chris realises that he has gone a bit over the top and says that he doesn’t really need to go home yet. Harrison suggests that the three of them go back to Woodbine, get a chip supper “and watch some rubbish TV.” How could anyone turn down an invitation like that? Not Chris, obviously, as he says “I’d really like that.” I ask you; is it really so surprising that Alice turned to drink? 

Get The Pipe And Slippers Ready For Jazzer

Greg Jones (Calvin)

Ed and Jazzer are shearing sheep (at Home Farm, I believe) and finding it hot and thirsty work. During a much-needed break, Jazzer admits that he’s finding it hard going this year, and Ed teases him that he must be getting old. Later on, Jazzer tells Ed that he’s thinking of packing the shearing game in – now he’s got a girlfriend, perhaps it’s time he thought about settling down. Ed teases him again and Jazzer challenges him to a shearing contest tomorrow – first one to shear 50, wins a bottle of Sambuca. Come to think of it, I don’t think we were told who won.

Despite the banter, Ed is concerned – who can he get to replace Jazz? Jazzer suggests George and, while Ed says he would love to work with George, he doesn’t know if his nephew would be interested. True that he is studying an agricultural course, but does that mean that he would want to shear sheep?

Actually, it could all be academic, as a couple of days later, Jazzer is giving his motorbike a thorough service and is approached by Tracy, who says that she has always fancied a ride on a motorbike (please insert your own smutty joke) and why don’t the pair take a picnic and find a nice, secluded spot where they can enjoy themselves?

Jazzer is definitely up for this, and the pair take off. However, when they arrive at their idyllic destination, all is not sweetness and light; in fact, a blazing row ensues. Tracy, it would appear, is not really a genuine petrolhead, as she accuses Jazzer of trying to kill her and driving like a speed-crazed maniac. For his part, Jazzer asks why didn’t Tracy lean into the corners, as pillion passengers are supposed to do? He calls her a drama queen. Suffice it to say that any chance of romance (or even a quick bit of nookie) is out of the question, as they both agree that this has been the worst date ever.

But, just when you think things cannot get any worse, they do – Tracy tells Jazzer that there’s no way she is getting back on that bike, and it quickly becomes clear that neither is he, as it refuses to start, so his plan to go back to the main road and flag down somebody to give Tracy a lift is, like the motorbike, a non-starter. So Jazzer rings Eddie and asks if he can rescue them. Sadly, there appears to have been a lack of communication, as Eddie turns up in his limo, much to Tracy’s delight. But not to Jazzer’s – how is he going to get the bike into the limo? The short answer is he isn’t and what’s more, Eddie won’t take him either, as he’s covered in oil and Eddie’s seats are white leather. Eddie will take Tracy home and come back with the van to pick up the bike. And Jazzer.

Meanwhile, back in Ambridge, Mia is alarmed to see Ruairi with a pile of suitcases – surely he’s not leaving the village? No, he explains – he’s just moving in with Adam and Ian for a spell. Mia is relieved. Emma, who was with Mia when they came across Ruairi, notices Mia’s interest in Ruairi and asks if she has a crush on him? If so, Emma wouldn’t tell anyone – Mia can talk to her. After a bit of probing, Mia confesses that she is sweet on Ruairi and she thinks that he feels the same. Emma gently suggests that maybe Ruairi is just being kind, but Mia cannot accept this and says that it is more than just a crush; “I’m in love with Ruairi” she tells Emma.

Ruairi is attracting a lot of attention; Adam is watching apprehensively as the mountain of stuff that he is taking to Honeysuckle grows ever higher, but his grumbling is interrupted by Ian, who tells him that he accidentally heard Ruairi on the phone to his friend Troy and their conversation was – well, more than friendly; in fact it was flirty. Adam is stunned – how could he have missed noticing that Ruairi might be gay? He resolves to bring up the subject and let Ruairi know that they will support him, whatever.

It doesn’t take long, as at dinner that evening, Adam drops some unsubtle hints. Ruairi smiles; he knows that they must have overheard him and Troy talking, and he tells Adam and Ian that he’s not gay, but bisexual. Furthermore, Adam talking about how difficult he found it to come out doesn’t apply to Ruairi, as he has never been in the closet in the first place and, while he has never explicitly told Brian and Jenny of his sexuality, it’s not a secret among his friends. He also tells Adam that he and Ian helped pave the way for him and he thanks them for caring – it means a lot. “Well, you’re a lot more sorted than I was at 18” is Adam’s comment.

Perhaps it’s a good job that Mia wasn’t privy to this conversation. She contacts Ruairi and asks if he will show her round Home Farm so she can pursue her one-girl crusade against plastic pollution and waste in the agricultural sector. Sure, says Ruairi; how about now, as his school work is doing his head in. Mia jumps at the chance and, while they are walking the farm, they talk about Alice and her problems and Mia opens up about how she felt when her mum Nic died. Taking her courage in both hands, Mia tells Ruairi that he’s lovely. 

Ruairi realises the way that this conversation is leading and he tells Mia that she is lovely too, but quickly adds that he doesn’t feel ‘that way’ about her. Mia recovers brilliantly and bluffs it out, saying of course; she didn’t mean anything else when she said ‘lovely’ – she’s just grateful that he is helping her with her project.

However, Mia’s dreams and hopes have been shattered and she is despondent. Even Will notices that there’s something amiss and, in that caring but heavy-handed way of his, he keeps asking her questions (‘are you all right?’, ‘do you want to talk?’) The answers in Mia’s case being ‘no’ and ‘no’ and she flees to her room. After a while, an apologetic Will goes to see her and the pair do talk. 

“I didn’t know that having your heart broken could hurt this much” she tells her stepfather, after she has apologised for the rude way she treated him – she knows he was only concerned for her happiness. Will tells her that he knows what it’s like to have your heart broken, but sadly, it’s a part of growing up that almost everybody has to go through – he remembers when a girl he fancied at school got a new boyfriend; Will cried. “I was properly upset” he tells Mia. Mia thinks she will never get over it, but Will assures her that it will get better – he promises. “You just need to let the hurt happen and remember that the whole family loves you” he tells her. “I love them too,” she replies, and her mood lightens ever so slightly.

We come now to the continuing saga of Alice versus the bottle. Thus far, the bottle is way ahead on points and it looks like it was going for a KO this week. Alice returns home to Willow Cottage one evening, decidedly the worse for drink, as she struggles to find her door keys. And she is not alone, as she is accompanied by a young man, whose name, we learn later, is Calvin (although Alice has three goes at remembering it and fails miserably). Calvin and Alice got chatting in a pub and she invited him home for some company. Such is her influence, he is also as pissed as a newt, and the noise they are making wakes up Jennifer.

Jennifer says that she has a few things to say and Calvin says that maybe he ought to leave. Alice says no – he’s keeping her company. Jennifer gives it to him straight; her daughter is an alcoholic (Alice is scandalised) and not only that, she also has a husband and a baby daughter. “I didn’t know” mutters Calvin, to which Alice says “It doesn’t matter.” Calvin leaves, which must make him a contender for having the smallest-ever speaking part for an Archers character. “Oh Alice – in God’s name what were you thinking?” Jennifer asks in exasperation.

Enter Brian. What’s been going on? Jennifer starts to relate what has been happening, but Alice warns “Don’t get involved dad – it’s just mum over-reacting as usual.” Brian is bemused – what was his daughter up to? Alice replies that she just wanted some company – is that a crime?

Brian is still all at sea – if she wanted company, why not turn to Chris and Martha? When Alice asks why, he replies “Because they’re family.” “No they’re not – not any more; I don’t need them” Alice retorts. Brian tells her to stop, but she goes on, saying that she doesn’t need Chris, nor Martha; nor Brian and Jennifer, come to that. “As far as I’m concerned, you can all go to hell!” Alice shouts.

There is a long silence after this, broken by Brian saying to Alice that she cannot keep on ignoring them – she’s got to try because she and Chris love each other. He thinks back to when she and Chris got married – they thought seriously about taking that step. That’s right, Jenny chips in – surely she doesn’t want to throw away eleven years of marriage? 

And it is now that Brian utters possibly the most thoughtless comment of his life, when he says “Think about your marriage vows.” There is a moment of silence, then Alice says, in a dangerous voice “Are you serious?” Brian continues and asks her if she wants to throw it all away - her marriage, her relationship with her child? “Did you?” Alice retorts, adding: “I don’t think you’re qualified to lecture anyone on marriage vows” and goes on to mention Siobhan and Ruairi. She calls Brian a hypocrite and says “My vows were the same as those you made to mum – the ones you broke when you knocked up another woman and had a baby with her. It’s true – I lie, I’m selfish and I drink too much; I’m just like you!” A chip off the old block, eh Brian? You must be so proud.

I like to end on a happy note, so let’s go back to the beginning of the week, where Lee is exhausted after looking after Henry and Jack, who seem to have spent all day on Lee’s newly-acquired drum kit. Helen is worried about the noise and invites neighbour Joy over for drinks and nibbles. Helen apologises profusely, but Joy is quite ok about it and says how nice it is to hear the youngsters enjoying themselves and not to worry about the noise and, yes, she will have another drink, thanks for asking. I think we should seriously test Joy’s neighbourliness and her tolerance – I am going to start a rumour that Jazzer is looking to sell his bagpipes and that Lee has expressed a keen interest. Let’s see how she likes that!