Shula Falls For Neil

Judy Bennett (Shula Hebden Lloyd)

Shula drops in at Brookfield to pick up her beef order; she tells David how busy it is at the Stables, plus she has heard about her upcoming ordination placement, which will take place shortly, at a parish in Birmingham. Life is hectic and she doesn’t know whether she’s coming or going. David asks if she is seeing Neil later and remarks that he seems to be spending a lot of time at the Stables. Shula explains about their arrangement, whereby Neil looks after Shula’s garden and, in return, she gives Keira free riding lessons. She says she’d better go – she is taking out a newly-acquired pony today to see how it behaves. As Shula leaves, Rooooth remarks that Shula seems to have a lot on her mind, and on her plate.

Meanwhile, Neil and Jazzer are at Berrow Farm, getting ready to move some pigs. They discuss their respective other halves, and Jazzer conveys way too much information about how Tracy is not one of those people who falls asleep as soon as their head touches the pillow and it’s no wonder that he finds it difficult to get up in the mornings. Neil makes the point that Susan always likes the last word – “You can never win an argument with a Horrobin woman” he tells Jazzer.

Just then, Neil’s phone rings. It’s Shula, wanting to tell Neil not to come and do the garden later, as she will be tied up. She is riding the new horse and Neil can see her on the bridleway. The horse seems a bit skittish and it is suddenly spooked, throwing Shula to the ground, where she lies, unconscious. Neil tells Jazzer to call an ambulance and, when the Scotsman goes to the farm gate to show the paramedic the way in, Neil talks to the recumbent Shula, saying that it looks like she has broken her arm, “but it’s OK – I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

The following day we learn that Shula’s arm is indeed broken and they kept her in overnight in case of concussion. Neil returns home early from work; he had a sleepless and disturbed night, worrying, so he called it a day. He is surprised when Susan tells him that Shula is at home – David picked her up and brought her back. 

Susan knows this because she dropped in to see Shula, as she (Susan) was feeling guilty because she was very short with Shula when she dropped in on her and Neil the other day and Susan wanted to apologise. In the course of this conversation, Shula mentions that Neil is helping her with her shed, which is news to Susan. “I hardly ever see Neil nowadays” his wife says, a trifle wistfully. What, with looking after Martha and the household chores, I’m surprised she sees him at all.

Susan happens to mention that Shula said she’d like to thank Neil. Susan suggests that he might like to go now, but of course, if he’d rather stay here… But Neil is gone in a flash and on his way to the Stables. Both he and Shula say how lucky it was that he was on the spot; Shula could have been lying there for hours, otherwise. If Shula ever wants anything, she only has to call Neil, he tells her. But Shula is worried and says that people are starting to gossip about the amount of time they are spending together. Neil is incredulous – who are these people? When Shula admits that it’s really only Alistair, Neil dismisses it and reminds Shula that he and her are lifelong friends. And oh yes; here’s your phone back Shula.

Speaking of phones, is it legal to be on a mobile when riding a horse? Shula says that it was a stupid thing to do, and she emphasises this fact to her students. A cynic might say that, with this ‘don’t do what I do, just do what I say’ attitude, Shula ought to be in Government, but let’s keep politics out of the Archers. Going back to the legality or otherwise of mounted mobile activity, don’t you think that, if it isn’t illegal, then it ought to be? I’m not advocating using a phone while at the wheel of a car, but if it’s potential loss of control through only having one hand on the steering wheel/horse reins that is the issue, then I submit that a car is less likely to be spooked, or distracted by the smell of pigs (which was apparently the case with Shula’s mount, to get back to our narrative).

Neil’s desire to be helpful soon annoys Shula – he pops round with a lasagne; should he put it in the oven? Oh, and he’s noticed that one of her spotlights needs replacing; has she got a spare and where is the stepladder? Shula is starting to feel pressured and tells Neil to go home, please. Now. He does so, leaving the stepladder in the hall. To be fair to Shula, she is frustrated as she has received an e-mail telling her that her ordainment placement has been postponed until she is free of her arm in plaster (which will be about six weeks).

The stepladder is noticed by Alistair, when he calls round with some shopping. Shula tells him about Neil and the spotlight and Alistair apologises for what he said about Shula, Neil and the gossip. “I got it wrong” the vet says, contritely. There is a long pause, and then we hear Shula say: “Actually, I don’t think you did.” She goes on to tell him that nothing has been going on between her and Neil, but she is frightened of the way she is feeling and, when she fell and came round, she realised that it was Neil she wanted and she had a crystal-clear thought that “I can’t die, because, if I do, I’ll never see him again.” A shocked Alistair asks “You’re in love with him?” Shula replies that she doesn’t know, but Alistair must keep quiet. “No-one can ever know” his ex-wife insists.

We have spent a while on this story, but it’s not every week that you get a potential vicar committing an imaginary affair with a good friend. About time Shula got a story with some meat in it. 

Let’s look what’s been happening elsewhere. Josh, the errant Brookfield entrepreneur, appears to have cocked it up again, as the output from his hens is down by some 20% and there is an additional problem; his eggshells are paper thin and more fragile than Faberge eggs. Something is obviously wrong and, having secured a massive order from a customer, it needs to be sorted, so Alistair is brought in and he takes samples. Rooooth tells David not to interfere – let Josh sort it out by himself.

It turns out that the problem is that the hens have Infectious Bronchitis (no eggs for me please, Mr. Archer!) and the reason is that Josh took a ‘calculated risk’ by not giving them all their booster vaccinations. Make that ‘miscalculated risk’, Josh. There is much bickering about the times that other members of the Archer family have made mistakes, and Josh points out that he is not the only one. True, Josh, but you are the only one whose previous cock-ups have involved a police investigation and a stiff talking-to. So, asks David, how is he going to get out of this? The answer is to buy in free range eggs from other, reputable producers, explain to his customers that there has been a slight hiccup and to take the short-term financial hit in the expectation of long-term gains. Another triumph of business know-how, Josh.

Over at Honeysuckle Cottage, Brian and Jennifer are babysitting Xander, aided and abetted by Ruairi, who has cooked them a very palatable meal, helped by hints from Chef Ian. The evening gets into a swing with games of Cluedo, at which Ruairi is a bit of a demon, apparently (the long, dark evenings must simply fly by). The talk turns to Alice and how she hid her illness (and the empty bottles) from them. Jennifer is disappointed, as she always thought (and hoped) that her children could talk to her about anything. Ruairi replies that he could tell her anything and, diverting attention from Brian’s suggestion that it was Professor Plum in the Ballroom, with a Spanner, casually mentions that he is Bisexual.

Jennifer is at pains to accept this as a piece of news on par with ‘I’m thinking of getting a haircut’ and doesn’t miss a beat in the conversation. She cajoles Brian later for his lack of reaction, but he maintains that it was a tactic by Ruairi to sidestep the fact that Brian had the correct solution (sorry, but we never found out if he was right). Brian admitted that his reaction when Adam came out was unfortunate, but he was determined not to make the same mistake with Ruairi.

Brian adds that he shouldn’t really be surprised as “our children don’t really do ‘normal’, do they?” he asks Jennifer, adding that he is a bit of a dinosaur in these matters. “At least we did a good job with Ruairi” he tells Jenny, with the postscript that “I suppose one out of four isn’t too bad.” This seems a little harsh on Debbie, and indeed Adam, as, let’s face it, out of the Aldridge/Macy children, it is only Kate who could really be described as a complete flake and as mad as a box of frogs.

Of course, the above has omitted to include Alice, who we learned last week has gone to live with Amy Franks in Nottingham. Back in Ambridge, Chris and Susan are witnessing Martha’s first (and ultimately successful) attempts to sit up, unaided. Chris becomes tearful that Alice is missing all these landmark moments in her daughter’s life, and Susan suggests that they video them and save them, and even make a ‘memory box’ for Alice to look back on.

Chris wonders if he should ring Amy and ask to speak to Alice. Susan says it could be worth a try, but he should be prepared that she might not want to talk to him. Nevertheless, Chris goes ahead. Amy answers and, after the social chitchat, she says that she is frantically busy (she’s a midwife and there are lots of lockdown babies). Alice, says Amy, isn’t there. Just then, there is the click of a door and Amy says that it’s Alice going out – she thought that she had already left.

How are things? Chris asks. Not good, Amy replies – things started OK, but Alice has started drinking and going (and staying) out late at night. Amy is struggling to cope, and Alice is getting angry and sneaking out to buy drink. Chris tells her that she shouldn’t have to be putting up with this sort of thing and, when Amy protests that Alice is her friend, but her work is stressful enough without worrying what she is going to come home to. 

Chris says yes, it’s true that Amy is Alice’s friend, but Alice is the responsibility of him and the family, not Amy. In a stern voice, Chris says “Alice should be here with us – it’s time for her to come home.” Well, good luck with that, Chris; personally, the only way I can see it happening is with her heavily sedated and bound hand and foot, slung from a long pole. Of course, alternatively they could give her a bottle of vodka and get her in the car and on the road after she has passed out.