No Pain (Au Chocolat), No Gain

Charlotte Martin (Susan Carter)

Susan is facing a dilemma; she badly wants to play the part of one of the kings in the Mystery Play, but she is terrified of horses and Lynda insists that she will have to make her entrance on horseback. Instead of telling Lynda to shove it, Susan goes to see Shula on the quiet for some riding lessons. Shula criticises Susan’s posture and suggests that Susan could do with working on her core muscles if she is to ride the horse properly.

Later in the week, Lee is in the shop with Susan, who asks him about exercising core muscles – not for her, you understand, but she is concerned that Neil could do with improving his fitness. So it is that she later mentions to Neil that Lee is coming round in ten minutes to demonstrate some core strengthening exercises, as he seems to have got the idea that Neil needs them and that Susan is just tagging along to keep her husband company. “Now, I wonder where he got that idea from?” Neil laughs, adding “what if I say no?” 

Susan replies that he can’t refuse, but Neil is still against the idea – he gains an instant Brownie Point when he says that he likes Susan just the way she is, then loses a shed-load of BPs when he adds that he finds her muffin top quite attractive. That’s the way it is with Brownie Points if you are a man; you gain them singly and lose them by the dozen.

Lee gives the couple a gentle workout, but Neil cries off halfway through, pleading an urgent need to update some feed records, or something equally flimsy. At work next day, Susan appears to be in extreme pain, doubling up with stomach cramps and wincing a lot. So bad is it that Helen and Clarrie are on the verge of calling an ambulance, but Susan stops them and reveals that she is wearing an Abs stimulator, which she borrowed from Lee (telling him that it was for Neil, of course) hoping it would prove a short cut to losing weight and toning her core. Helen tells her that you are only supposed to wear it for a short time and a mortified Susan makes her and Clarrie promise not to tell anybody.

I ask you; are these damn Mystery Plays of Lynda’s really worth all this trouble? As well as Susan rolling around in agony, there’s going to be mega disruption at Brookfield, with the audience traipsing all over the farm and then being squashed into the kitchen for the Annunciation scene. Clarrie is afraid that the Grundys will be ostracised by everyone in Ambridge because of Eddie’s decision to take part in Darrington’s production. And when will they be performed? Next weekend is Easter Sunday and it’s cutting it a bit fine, to say the least.

I have to confess that I am rapidly getting cheesed off with the storyline about Chris and Alice Carter and new baby Martha. The doctor at the hospital says that Martha is doing fine and gaining weight and the Carters can take her home. Chris is delighted, but Alice has reservations – is the doctor absolutely sure that Martha is ready to leave the hospital? Yes Alice – he’s a doctor; the stethoscope and white coat are a bit of a giveaway. He tries to boost Alice’s confidence by telling her that she has done well and she has a lovely baby, and she should enjoy it. Fortunately he stops short of suggesting that she has a drink.

The pair are treading on eggshells with their new baby – Chris has to go and shoe a horse for Jakob, but he is reluctant to leave Alice alone and suggests that they ask Jennifer or Susan to pop over. “Or there’s Kate” Chris says, but Alice shows that she hasn’t lost it completely when she answers “God. No!” to this last suggestion. She tells Chris to go and see to the horse – she’ll be fine.

Except that she isn’t. Chris receives a call from his wife, panicking because Martha won’t stop crying and Alice doesn’t know why – she’s tried feeding her, changing her, but all to no avail. She’s all for phoning the hospital, but Chris stops her and says that he will come straight home. Alice is on the verge of hysteria when he turns up and they start rowing, with Alice saying that Chris just won’t accept that Martha might not be normal. Chris retorts that, if Martha isn’t, then whose fault is that? 

All in all, this wasn’t the cleverest thing he could have said and he immediately says that he didn’t mean it. Too late, Chris! That crashing sound you hear is of hundreds of your Brownie Points falling off a cliff. Chris eventually gets Martha to go to sleep and Alice says that they need to talk – whenever Martha falls ill in the future, Chris will blame Alice. He denies this and says that it just gave him an awful shock when he first saw Martha in the incubator. He says that he’s proud of Alice and he loves her, and the pair of them should be happy for Martha’s sake. “She’s the only one who matters now.”

I’m with Alice on this one – Chris seems only too ready to play the blame game at each and every opportunity and you cannot help wondering how long this will go on for. Imagine the scene a couple of decades hence, where a disconsolate Alice comes off the phone. ‘That was Martha,’ Alice tells Chris, ‘She rang to say that she’s just failed her driving test.’ ‘Well,’ replies her husband, ‘What did you expect? After all, you did drink alcohol when you were pregnant with her, don’t forget.’ I just hope that Martha enjoys a childhood of rude health, or else Alice certainly will not be allowed to forget – ever.

Elsewhere, things are not exactly going swimmingly for the two remaining Rewilding partners. Rex is on tenterhooks about his application for a Council Tenancy and his anxiety increases when a friend rings to say that he (the friend) has been turned down. Is this good news for Rex? At least one potential competitor is now out of the running. Sadly, he gets another call – he too has been turned down for the Tenancy and he tells Phoebe that he may have to leave Borsetshire to try and find some land. She tries to jolly him along and he snaps at her, so she says that she will keep her mouth shut if that’s how he feels.

It’s not a good day for Phoebe – she has a meeting with Brian over Rewilding and Kate tags along because she wants to talk about tree houses and what a great idea they would be for Rewilding. Phoebe never wanted Kate at the meeting, but Kate says she won’t open her mouth – in fact, she keeps on saying it, much to her daughter’s annoyance. 

Brian on the other hand, wants to talk cattle. Originally the three Rewilders decided on Longhorns, as one of the oldest breeds they could find and which fits in best with the Rewilding ethos. Brian, however, thinks that Aberdeen Anguses would give a better return. He also thinks that Kate’s idea about having tree houses has some merit, as they could charge guests a premium for them.

It is all too much for Phoebe, who explodes. It is obvious, she says, that neither Brian nor Kate have the first idea about what Rewilding means. Brian’s contribution is just to ensure that the money isn’t misused in any way – he has no say in the running of the project and Phoebe and Rex will make all the commercial decisions, the first of which is Longhorn cows, not Anguses. Rewilding is not designed to make vast profits and Kate’s tree house idea would frighten away the natural wildlife and is a non-starter, so would Brian and Kate just shut up and not interfere, please?

In these days of the Covid pandemic, meetings such as the Parish Council are held using Zoom, or similar. Neil and Jim have a pre-meeting chat, at which Jim tries to dissuade Neil from resigning from the PC – if he goes, who will take over as Chair? Neil says his mind is made up and this will be his last-ever PC meeting. He suggests that Jim would make a good chair, but Jim replies that he would not have the patience, and besides, the Parish Clerk is not allowed to run for Chair. After the meeting, Emma and Jim talk. Apparently Richard Thwaite indulged in some serious nit-picking over the cost of a stapler. “I’ll resign if he ever becomes Chair” Emma promises.

So who will be the next Chair? We don’t know, as nobody volunteered. “It was a wave of apathy” Jim tells Emma. He suggests that Emma puts herself forward for the job – he knows that he could work well with her. Unfortunately, she says that she doesn’t have the time and, anyway, she doesn’t want all the backbiting.

As they are talking, Jim’s phone rings. It’s Hilary Noakes, telling Jim that she intends to stand in the PC elections in May. Not only that, but she understands that there is a vacancy for Chair and she might be willing to apply for it. Both Jim and Emma agree that she would be hopeless as Chair, with Emma remarking that all Hilary can talk about is Star Signs and her blasted cockatoo – she’d be a disaster. “We’ve got to find somebody else" Says Jim, adding; “As quickly as possible.” 

Actually, the appointment of Hilary could add another dimension to PC meetings. Consider; we already have Richard Thwaite on the Council and he never says anything. Hilary Noakes is another non-speaking character. So if she were to be elected and could persuade a few other NSCs (Sabrina Thwaite, Cecil Jackson, Snatch and Baggy, Fat Paul et al) to stand for office, then we could have an entirely silent Parish Council – just think how much fun their Zoom meetings would be.

For Once Eddie, I’m Right Behind You

 Trevor Harrison (Eddie Grundy)

When it comes to choosing an Ambridge man of principle and integrity, the name of Eddie Grundy may not be the first to spring to mind. Nevertheless, this week we learn that he has phoned Lynda and resigned from her Mystery Play production as a protest against the way Lynda tossed Clarrie aside after learning that Clarrie had told Sabrina what Lynda had planned for the Easter production. Furthermore, Eddie says that he is not going to resign from appearing in the rival Darrington Easter offering, where he is operating as Lynda’s spy on the inside.

Clarrie is alarmed, as Darrington is Ambridge’s arch-enemy and she fears that the Grundys could be drummed out of the village at best, or lined up against a wall and shot at worst. She pleads with Eddie that she does not need him to fight her battles and please don’t defect to Darrington, but he is adamant – Lynda has crossed a line and has to be taught a lesson that she cannot treat people like this. His mind is made up.

Eddie is not the only one to be muttering about the play – Jazzer, in conversation with Leonard, complains that last night’s rehearsal was a fiasco; with Eddie and Clarrie both gone, Jazzer had nobody to rehearse his scenes with and it was a complete waste of his evening. He told Lynda to get some replacements pronto, and I bet that went down well with Lynda. Jazzer also remarks that Leonard was given a really hard time by Lynda and must be feeling aggrieved.

Leonard, however, appears to have morphed into a doormat, as he not only owns up to being not much good as an actor, but adds that he considers himself fortunate to be working with a director of the calibre of Lynda Snell. Presumably he allows her to flagellate him when rehearsals are over – you can bet that, when he was a lad at school, Leonard was the pupil who had to go round after football practice and collect up all the balls and take down the nets.

The irony of all this is that everybody knows that Leonard isn’t much cop, but Jill has fixed it with Lynda that, if Lynda gives Leonard a speaking part, then she (Jill) will persuade David and Rooooth to let Lynda use the Brookfield kitchen to stage the Annunciation scene. This is news to both David and Rooooth, and they wonder how they will accommodate the actors and the audience. David also observes that he never knew that his mother could be so devious (he and Rooooth are sworn to secrecy). One could make the observation that, for Lynda to agree to such an arrangement, does not show her principles and artistic integrity in a particularly favourable light.

One might also make the point that Leonard seems to have an almost pathetic desire to excel in the Arts – as well as this incident, we cast our minds back to Jill’s birthday, when he painted a picture for Jill; a picture that, going by the comments of most of those who saw it, could only charitably be described as ‘mediocre’.

Although Lynda is sitting at the centre of her web like a spider, she seems to have employed Kirsty as someone to do her dirty work for her – it was Kirsty who told Clarrie that she was sacked and, last week Kirsty sought out Susan for a talk – in private, if she doesn’t mind. Kirsty says that Lynda wants Susan to take over the part of King from Clarrie, and Lynda wants to know Susan’s answer today. 

Susan is horrified – Clarrie is her friend; how can she ask her to do something like that? As it turns out, it’s academic, as Clarrie overheard Kirsty’s and Susan’s conversation and she urges Su to go for it; Clarrie cannot imagine anyone better to take over the part. Besides, Clarrie adds, Susan will be better than Clarrie at riding the horse. Susan is stunned – at doing what? It turns out that Lynda wants Susan’s king to make a grand entrance on horseback and, when Susan suggests that she should swap with Lily Pargetter (another king) Lynda won’t hear of it.

Susan admits to Clarrie that she has overheard comments in the shop about Eddie and Darrington, and the two girls say that something needs to be done. The result is that Clarrie, Mia and Poppy resolve to hold a silent protest – they will not speak to Eddie until he breaks all ties with Darrington. In case you are wondering how we learn this, Clarrie informs her husband, as she cannot bear him to look miserable. Au contraire! Eddie replies that he finds the silence and lack of bickering by the girls restful "I could get used to this” he tells Clarrie, and, when she begs him to reconsider, he refuses, saying “Someone has to teach Lynda Snell a lesson.” Yea! Go Eddie!

New mother Alice is still having trouble getting new daughter Martha to breast feed and she wonders whether her daughter doesn’t like her because of her drinking during the pregnancy. Whatever, Martha gets the hang of this feeding lark on Tuesday and an emotional Alice cuddles her and tells her how much she loves her.

This is only part of Alice’s troubles, as she is desperately craving a drink all the time, but is determined not to give in to temptation. Chris doesn’t seem to grasp the strength of the addiction and keeps going on about how well Alice is doing and how she is getting better every day. Not so, says Alice – he doesn’t seem to realise that she will never ‘get better’ – this is not something that you can take a couple of aspirins for and, although she has not had – and is determined not to have – a drink, it is extremely hard for her and she is struggling. 

Increasingly desperate, Alice contacts Lisa, her buddy from the detox clinic, to tell her of her anxieties. Lisa assures Alice that her behaviour is perfectly understandable and the only solution is to take things one day at a time. Lisa says she is not just Alice’s buddy for detox, but a buddy for life, and Alice can call her anytime; day or night. Alice is buoyed up by this conversation and, when, on his return from work, Chris apologises for his earlier attitude (he told Alice that it wasn’t easy for him either, having to reassure his wife all the time, while wondering if the drinking had damaged their baby in some way) and he asks if he can get her some help? Alice replies that there is no need – she feels so much better after talking to Lisa; much more in control. 

Jazzer and Jim are the heroes of the hour for their parts in delivering Martha in Jim’s car and for getting Alice to hospital, and were even interviewed by a reporter for an article in the Echo. I suppose you could argue that a milkman should be good at making deliveries, but Jazzer is quite proud of his actions and Alice is very grateful, says Tracy.

Someone else who is grateful is Tracy, who goes to see Jazzer in order to thank him. It is easy to forget that Martha is Tracy’s great niece, and Tracy is grateful that the Scotsman was there for Alice. When Tracy gave birth to Chelsea, her first-born, she had to get herself to hospital, as her partner was absent. She was too far gone for an epidural and an emergency meant that she was alone in the ward, with nobody answering her buzzer. The pain, she tells Jazzer was “indescribable” and that men have no idea what women go through. That said, she cannot thank Jazzer enough for just being there and making sure that Alice did not have to suffer her ordeal on her own.  

Finally, a brief cameo about family loyalty; David and Rooooth talk about Brian’s suggestion that Brookfield should graze their sheep on Home Farm land. They agree it makes sense, but David has reservations. “Let’s not forget that this is Brian Aldridge we are talking about here – what’s in it for him?” he asks Rooooth. Eventually, he and Rooooth agree to go ahead with the idea, but they must make sure that they have a cast-iron grazing licence in place. I wouldn’t say that they don’t trust Uncle Brian as far as they could throw him, but, when last seen, David was rumoured to be looking for a long – a very long – spoon.

Report To The Rack, Clarrie

Will Sanderson-Thwaite and Hollie Chapman (Chris and Alice Carter)

Poor Clarrie – she doesn’t ask for much, does she? Just as well, really, as that’s exactly what she gets most of the time. Take the Mystery Plays, for example; Clarrie is pathetically keen to shine as one of the Three Wise Men, not least because Susan has made it plain that she doesn’t rate Clarrie’s acting ability very highly. So keen is Clarrie, that she has asked Sabrina Thwaite for elocution lessons, and it is this that leads to her latest disappointment.

Kirsty approaches Clarrie, bearing a message from Lynda – the director is displeased, because it has come to her notice that Clarrie has let slip the fact that Ambridge is planning to put on the Mystery Plays. This is despite the fact that Lynda has put a blanket ban on everybody, swearing them to silence and forbidding them to say anything about Ambridge’s plans, on pain of having their tongue ripped out and buried at a crossroads at midnight. And that’s if she is feeling merciful.

Under intense questioning, Clarrie admits that she has spoken to Sabrina, but begs Kirsty to let her off with a warning. As punishment, Clarrie will thrash herself with nettles and brand herself with hot irons. She begs Kirsty to forgive her and not tell Lynda, describing it as “a one-off slip”. Kirsty is on the verge of allowing Clarrie to carry on, but she asks if Clarrie has told anybody else? No, no – well there was Susan, when Clarrie was first offered the part, and, of course, Helen might have overheard them talking, then there’s Oliver and, of course, Emma and Edward know, but they are family.

Oh dear Clarrie; you have blown it big time and Kirsty has her orders – this is a hanging offence and, in a passable Lord Sugar impression, Kirsty tells her “You’re fired.” Before she goes off to be tarred and feathered, Clarrie asks how did Lynda ever expect to keep the production a secret? A good question – the grandchildren might have noticed Clarrie wandering round the house, wearing a crown and carrying gold, frankincense and myrrh.

Power would appear to have gone to Lynda’s head, as half the villagers are appearing in the play(s) and the other half have been tapped up to provide suitable venues for staging various scenes – Brookfield, for example, has already been earmarked for its barn and also to supply a few sheep in an outside pen when it comes to the shepherds’ scene. This mania for secrecy also begs the question how does Lynda expect to attract an audience if nobody knows what the production is?

Let’s leave Clarrie sobbing her heart out, bless her. Over at the shop, Jim is behind the counter, serving Jazzer, who is still miffed at the way Jim upset Jade. Alice enters, craving chocolate as a treatment for backache. Chris is out on a shopping trip with sister Emma, buying things for the expected baby. Emma is just telling Chris that she might apply for the position of Parish Council Chair if Neil resigns, when Chris’s phone rings. Emma answers it (Chris is driving) and it is Jazzer, who tells her that Alice has gone into labour in the shop and he and Jim have rung for an ambulance – see them at the hospital.

Chris is all for going to the shop, but Emma eventually persuades him of the folly of this idea, as the ambulance will be taking Alice to the hospital and they don’t want to miss each other. Chris is rapidly going to pieces and rants that Alice needs him. Actually Chris, I think she’s got other things on her mind at the moment. The upshot is that Alice gives birth to a baby girl in Jim’s car, helped by a lady on the phone, and by Jazzer, who wraps the newborn infant in Jim’s coat, thus ensuring that Jim will get a bill for dry cleaning, to go with the one for valeting the car.

The baby is small but, as the doctor tells Chris and Alice, not worryingly so and she is in an incubator just as a precaution, as she was six weeks premature. This is the elephant in the room for the Carters – is the child disabled in any way or will it have learning difficulties due to Alice’s drinking? Give the poor little sod a chance – a few hours old is a bit young to start worrying about learning difficulties, surely? Alice is worried because premature birth can be caused by alcohol but the doctor assures the couple that there are any number of causes for early birth and they have a lovely little daughter.

Of course, the pandemic means that no visitors are allowed, so Jennifer is beside herself with frustration. Brian has a more practical attitude and takes a bottle of 25 year-old malt to Jim and Jazzer as a ‘thank you’. Jim and Jazzer have, by this time, reconciled their differences over Jade and Jim offers to cook everyone a breakfast fry-up, as Jazzer has just returned from his milk round. Brian accepts with alacrity (no doubt thinking that it will make a nice change from listening to Jenny banging on about how she’s not allowed to see her new granddaughter) and, before long, the bottle of malt has been opened and the lads are enjoying themselves. By my reckoning, it cannot be later than 9.30 am at the most and the sun is nowhere near the yardarm, but I suppose we can forgive the trio this once. Brian asks Jazzer if he’d ever wanted children and, getting a negative answer we all wonder, if not, then why is he practising so enthusiastically?

At the hospital, Chris runs into Alan (the vicar is there visiting a terminally-ill parishioner) and it is obvious that Chris is troubled. He asks Alan if he would be prepared to give their baby a blessing, which is odd, as he is not religious, despite being a bellringer. “It would be my honour” Alan replies, hiding his surprise very well at this sudden upsurge in God-bothering.

If Alan’s surprised, that’s nothing compared to Alice’s reaction when Chris tells her of his request – even more so when Chris reveals that he has got the vicar waiting outside the door. Having got Alice’s approval, Chris calls Alan into the room to perform the blessing.

Going back to Ambridge, fortunately for Brian’s eardrums, Jennifer managed to talk to Chris and/or Alice at the hospital and he has some good news for Jim and Jazzer – the new parents have decided that the child’s middle name will begin with a ‘J’ in recognition of the part played in the birth by the two men. We wait with bated breath – will it be ‘Jimjazz’? Or ‘Jazzjim’?

But let us return to the hospital; Alan asks the couple if they have chosen a name yet? Chris says ‘no’ which conjures up the somewhat surreal image of Alan saying something along the lines of ‘Dear Lord, please protect and bless your new servant ‘Whatshername’.’ However, Alice quickly says “Martha” and, in response to the quizzical looks of the two men, replies “It’s the name that Chris likes.” And so it is that Alan asks God to bless the new arrival; ‘Martha Jasmine Carter’.

Next day (I think) Chris is talking to Alan – how is the new father doing? The answer is ‘not very well’, as Chris gets very angry and shouts “Why didn’t Alice have her hospital bag ready? Why does she leave everything to the last minute? I’m sick of it!” Alan tells him that it’s OK to be emotional after the birth of your first child but Chris says that it’s more than that. Alan says, kindly, ”OK, what is it that I don’t understand?” 

Bit by bit, the whole story about Alice’s drinking comes out and Chris says he’s worried that Martha might be adversely affected in some way – what would they do then? Alan replies that that is unlikely but, if it were to happen, “Then you cross that bridge when you come to it.”  Chris is not convinced and says that he is afraid that, if Martha does have a disability caused by alcohol, then he might not be able to cope with it “And if not, then I’m scared that I will blame Alice for the disability and I might end up hating her”, Chris tells the vicar.

While Chris was unburdening his soul to Alan, Alice had a visit from mother-in-law Susan (and Neil, but he was soon despatched by his wife to find them a cup of tea, or coffee, or whatever, but just sod off and leave them alone).

Susan is unusually sensitive, and reassures Alice that her feelings are perfectly natural (we should remember that neither Susan nor Neil are aware of Alice’s alcohol problem) and Susan shares some of her birthing experiences. She reveals that, like Martha, Emma was a premature birth, plus they had to use forceps, so it wasn’t much fun.

Chris’s birth was much quicker and more simple, but he had a cleft lip and Susan felt it might somehow be her fault. Despite Chris’s beautiful blue eyes and shock of black hair (the latter of which Martha has inherited – we aren’t sure about the eye colour, as Alice hasn’t noticed) Susan felt revulsion for her son and couldn’t bear to be seen out with him until he had surgery to repair the lip.

Susan says that Alice “Will be a good mother.” She adds; “You’ve got a wonderful, healthy daughter, with parents who love her and who love each other – don’t worry; it’s all going to be fine.”

Let’s hope so, and that Martha is a healthy baby, so that Chris and Alice can stop having doubts and fears about their daughter; and, indeed, each other. Assuming Martha is OK, do you reckon that Alice will ever drink alcohol again? Indeed, will she want to? I reckon that the big test will be at Martha’s christening – the least they can do after Alan’s input is to hold it at St. Stephen’s - and if Lilian is invited to the party afterwards, then I reckon that Alice’s could be the most spectacular slide off the wagon ever experienced in Ambridge.

Another Nail In The Rewilding Coffin?

Nick Barber (Rex Fairbrother)

The Rewilding project does not appear to be going according to plan. First of all, Pip jumped ship, thereby removing all the trio’s (Pip, Phoebe and Rex) cattle expertise at one stroke. Then there was the bad feeling between Pip and Rex, following Brookfield giving the Fairbrothers notice to quit Hollowtree. BL appointed Justin as their man on the spot to oversee the project, but Justin was forced to take a step back after the BL Board thought that he might be too closely associated with the Philip Moss slave gang – in the minds of the public, even if not in reality.

Justin’s replacement was Brian Aldridge who, at his age (78 in November) could be forgiven for reaching for the pipe and slippers, but not a bit of it. True, he did say to his son Ruairi that he might not be able to take on as many shifts in the lambing shed this year, but he is still deeply involved in the day-to-day running of Home Farm.

But what has this got to do with Rewilding, I hear you scream? The answer is that Brian is well aware of the lack of bovine knowledge among the other two principals of the Rewilding project and, at the meeting held on Tuesday (for which Rex was late) he tells Phoebe that Peggy is concerned because Pip has left the project. Perhaps, he ventures to suggest, if Phoebe and Rex wanted the benefit of someone who has decades of experience in handling cattle…?

Phoebe is quick to try and scotch this attempt by Brian to get his foot further in the door, by telling him that they can handle it, thank you very much Granddad Brian. Imagine then how pleased she was when Rex did eventually turn up and, when the topic of cattle was raised, he was all for roping in Brian for his vast experience. Phoebe didn’t actually try and kill Rex, but you can be confident that she will be having a few words later with her Rewilding partner. There were other indications that Brian’s presence might not dovetail with the duo’s plans as, when Phoebe outlines their idea to get some basic facilities set up so that they could attract campers, Brian expresses doubt about the wisdom of this, saying that it could be in competition with Kate’s Spiritual Home.

For what it’s worth, my view on this is ‘tough’. From my point of view, I don’t see how having a site in a field with some very basic amenities can conflict with furnished yurts with hot and cold running joss sticks, and also, surely we are talking two different markets here? I submit that campers are just looking for somewhere to pitch a tent and get some potable water and couldn’t really give a toss whether their shakra is aligned (whatever that means) or if the site has been fully feng-shuied.

Perhaps Brian is trying to relive his days when he was lord of all he surveyed, by proxy – passing on the baton to the only one of his children (or his natural children, at least) who is interested in farming; yes, we speak of Ruairi. Brian takes his son walking Home Farm, and it is during this perambulation that we learn of Brian’s intention to cut down on nights in the lambing shed. What he’d really like, he confides, is to get out of sheep altogether.

Ruairi mentions that, by an odd coincidence, Brookfield are thinking of abandoning sheep as well (more accurately, Rooooth and Pip want out – David still favours a mixed farm). Ruairi has what can best be described as an Epiphany, or at least a lightbulb moment, and excitedly tells his dad what he thinks – why not get rid of the sheep and rent the fields out to Brookfield for their sheep?

Brian thinks this is a bonzer idea and, when Adam joins them in the lambing shed, Brian floats Ruairi’s idea. Adam is horrified at the thought – sheep mean much more than fleeces and meat; for example, their dung fertilises the land (for which farmers receive payment) and their grazing keeps the Black Grass under control. Ruairi counters this by saying that the sheep will still fertilise the land and keep weeds under control, be they Brookfield or Home Farm animals, plus Home Farm can charge Brookfield rent. Adam is momentarily at a loss, but Brian sticks his oar in by saying that he will bring the subject up at the next Partners’ Meeting (Ruairi’s first) and that he is fully behind the idea.

Adam gets Brian on his own later and says that the Meeting is the wrong forum to introduce such ideas; Ruairi should have gone through Adam first. “Is this going to happen with every hare-brained scheme that Ruairi dreams up?” Adam asks his stepfather, adding that this is not the sort of thing with which they should be wasting the partners’ time. Brian replies that he thinks it’s a sound idea – and oh yes, he understands from Jennifer that the rewiring of Honeysuckle cottage is going to cost a lot more than Adam and Ian thought – would they like him to help with the cost? In an icy tone, Adam answers that they can manage, thank you.

Now it’s time for a lesson in manners and etiquette, and for this we could have no better teacher than Jazzer’s girlfriend Jade. I hope that you realise that we are employing irony her, as Jade is to politeness what King Herod was to child welfare. Jim has invited Jade to join him, Jazzer and Alistair for dinner at Greenacres – an early dinner, as he knows Jade and Jazzer are going on somewhere later. The first course (prepared by Jim) is a salad. Jade describes this as ‘garden food’ and it is returned uneaten.

Jim removes the salad and Jazzer suggests to Jade that she might have upset Jim, but she can’t see this. She does compliment Alistair on the main course, but says that it would go better with a beer. Jazzer is out of the room looking for one and Jade makes some disparaging remarks about the Scotsman, to the extent that Jim asks her what does she see in Jazzer, if she’s always slagging him off? No-one could accuse Jade of beating around the bush, as she replies “Jazzer is a laugh a minute, when he’s not stuck in here with you two relics.”

Jazzer returns with the beer and Jade really goes for the throat, describing Jim as “a retired nobody, who enjoys lording it over anyone who’ll take it.” Not surprisingly, Jim is outraged at this and says that he invited her for dinner because he knows how much she means to Jazzer, but all she has done is take cheap shots at them all. Jade contradicts him, saying that he invited her just to make her squirm, but she doesn’t give a monkey’s. “Screw this” she adds and walks out, with Jazzer calling after her.

When Jazzer returns, he is less than happy and asks what did Jim and Alistair say to Jade? Jim explains what she was saying about Jazzer, and, indeed, about them, but Jazzer says can’t they take a joke? He adds that Jim and Alistair made up their minds about Jade the minute they met her, and with that, he too storms out. Perhaps Jim should install a revolving door? As it is, Alistair sums up the evening when he says “Well, that went well.” 

The next day, Jim is in introspective mood – perhaps Jazzer is right; maybe Jim is a snob. He goes further, wondering whether Alistair’s and Shula’s marriage would have survived if he had been more supportive? Alistair dismisses this train of thought and, regarding their current situation, he is sure that Jazzer will come to his senses eventually and, when he does, Jim and Alistair will be there for him.

Lynda’s production of the Mystery plays is gaining momentum, as we both feared and predicted. Susan is miffed because she hasn’t been offered a part, while Clarrie is determined to show Susan that she can act. Susan, meanwhile, is clinging to the hope that the new policy of gender fluidity, where the sex of the actor does not necessarily mean that men play male parts, or women female ones, could yet lead to her bagging not only a part, but a leading one at that. “I think I’d make an excellent Jesus” she tells Clarrie, somewhat immodestly. Sadly for her, that part has been offered to Harrison and, after initially saying that he thinks he ought to rein in on non-police activities, he agrees to accept the part.

Lynda has heard that Darrington will be producing their own Mystery plays, and she is determined to come out on top. No details of what she is planning have been released and the cast are sworn to secrecy. A good plan, but it could well be scuppered by Clarrie. Cast as one of the three kings, she fears that her voice isn’t regal enough and she enlists the well-spoken (not that we have ever heard her speak) Sabrina Thwaite for elocution lessons. The cat could soon be out of the bag.

Even worse, Lynda has enlisted Eddie as her spy in the Darrington camp, to keep an eye on their progress. If you want a double agent with guile, discretion and keeping your wits about you in tight situations, then I venture to suggest that Eddie is not the man; just think back to the metal detectorist debacle. What, between Clarrie’s breach of trust and Eddie’s bungling, I’ll give it a week before the Darrington players start to smell a rat. 

Towards the end of the week, Alice is surprised – nay, startled even - when Kate and Adam turn up at her front door, dressed in onesies. They have decided to throw her an impromptu baby shower and she is horrified when they tell her that they have brought drink for her. Much of this is non-alcoholic, but they have champagne and try to persuade her that a small glass won’t hurt. In a panic, she rings Chris – he’s got to help her out, as there appears to be no escape. Chris tells her he will think of something.

As Alice’s siblings increasingly press drinks on her, Kate’s phone rings. “Oh no!” Kate exclaims and she tells Adam that they have to go – now! The call was a message from Peggy; she’s had a fall. Kate and Adam rush off and a grateful Alice pours the champagne down the sink.

Later on, Chris is on the phone to Peggy and it turns out that the message was a white lie, as Peggy has not had a fall. She does wonder though whether it might be time to tell Jennifer and the rest of the family the truth – that way there would be more support to help Alice get through her problem. Chris is adamant, however; this is between Alice, him and Peggy and nobody else must know. He gets Peggy to give him her word that she will keep quiet and, reluctantly, she agrees, although she does warn him that the baby and its health must come first. Besides, as she reminds Chris “There are only so many falls that a grandmother can have.”

 

Sophisticated Isn’t The Word…

Ayesha Antoine (Jade)

Last week we were introduced to Jade, Jazzer’s latest squeeze, and, at risk of sounding like a snob, I think I can safely say that she isn’t the sort of girl that you would take to a Royal Garden Party, although I can imagine that she has certain qualities that might appeal to some members of the aristocracy; the male ones at least.

One of these qualities is stamina – poor Jazzer is a pale shadow of his former self and had to take a morning off work due to exhaustion. He is not so much burning the candle at both ends, as attacking it with a blow torch and he is finding that partying all night is incompatible with the job of milkman with its early starts. He has trouble explaining this to Jade, whose philosophy (in the unlikely event of her knowing what the word means) is that there’s plenty of time to rest when they screw down the coffin lid. And when it comes to screwing, this girl certainly knows whereof she speaks.

We find Jazzer in the village shop, where Johnny is talking to Jim, who is behind the counter. Jazzer is hopping with impatience, as he has Jade waiting outside in the car and Jim and Johnny are blethering on about car maintenance. Jazzer offers to take Jade back to Greenacres so that Jim can get to know her – oh, and yes; Jade has asked him to get some Penne pasta. “Ah, she’s going to do that thing with the pasta, is she?” Johnny asks, enigmatically. We should inform any new readers that Johnny once spent a night with Jade when she and Jazzer were an item, and he enjoyed it immensely, thanks very much. 

Fast forward to Greenacres, where Jade persists in referring to Jim as ‘Jimmy’, or ‘Jimbo’, much to his annoyance. The mystery of the pasta is solved, as Jade bets Jazzer (£10) that she can shoot a piece of penne out of her nose into a target (which is Jim’s Horace mug, much to his disgust). The girl is a dead shot and scores a bullseye first time. Jim makes a mental note to put the mug in the dishwasher. This episode is all very well, but could Jade do it with, say, Cannelloni, or Ravioli, or – a real test of nostril capacity here – Fiori? Indeed, could she do it if the Penne had been cooked?

Jade drags Jazzer off for another night of clubbing, and Johnny turns up to borrow a vacuum pump (don’t ask). Jim describes Jade as having “a very vibrant presence” and Johnny replies by saying that she can be very full on – “but what a looker.” Jim says that he will reserve judgement until he gets to know Jade better. Be careful Jim – at your age, becoming more familiar with a girl like Jade could well prove fatal.

Over at Brookfield, dissent is brewing. David is up to his armpits (literally) in a difficult lambing, and Rooooth wants to discuss the future of the farm. In her vision, there won’t be any more difficult lamb births, as she wants to get rid of the sheep. David, who has already scaled down the flock by 30%, is not enamoured by this suggestion, as the sheep are his baby, so to speak. Rooooth also wants to scale down the Hereford side of the farm (David’s other baby); leaving him to observe that he feels like he is being sent to the scrapheap – especially as Pip agrees with her mother. What about the rest of the family? Talking to Ruairi later, Ben says that Josh doesn’t count as, if it hasn’t got feathers and lays eggs, he isn’t interested. As for Ben, no-one seems to consider what he wants, and he is wondering what he can do with a well-trained sheepdog and no sheep.

In last week’s blog, I banged on about Lynda and her idea to hold Mystery Plays as part of her ‘village cleansing’ vision. Well, she’s at it again this week – having roped Kirsty in as producer (we knew Kirsty would cave in and agree), Kirsty visits Brookfield – Lynda has her eye on their barn as one of the venues for her village-wide production. Both David and Rooooth say ‘no’, but David does agree to taking a part. Interestingly, he doesn’t know what part, as he is told that he will be notified exactly what it will be at some future date.

Later on, Rooooth gets a message from Lynda telling her that she has been pencilled in for “a hefty speaking part” in the production, and she is terrified, as she dreads speaking in public. “I’d rather give her the barn” Rooooth tells her husband. And now we have the first bit of sense to be spoken about this whole drama scene, when David says “You could always say ‘no’ to both.” “I can’t just knock Lynda – and Kirsty – back” Rooooth protests, making the point that both women have had a hard time recently.

Surely then they should have better things to do? God alone knows that David and Rooooth certainly have, as they are at daggers drawn over the future of Brookfield and the last thing they need is a troupe of amateur actors swanning all over the place. And why can’t they just say ‘no’? It doesn’t have to be impolite; just let them know that you’d rather not participate this year, nor next year, nor the next millennium or two, thanks for asking. Bye – let me show you out. I’m beginning to think that there is some sort of covenant that goes with all property in Ambridge that says something like ‘at least once a year, some interfering old witch will try to get you involved in some kind of pretentious garbage and you are not allowed to say no.’ Why else would anyone agree year after year?

Chris gets a message from Sgt Burns – does he fancy a coffee? Alice encourages him to go (she’s probably glad to get some space) and he does so. SgtB asks after Alice – how is she coping? When Chris says that she is doing really well, Harrison says is he sure? These addictions can be hard to shake off, you know. He doesn’t actually say ‘these drunks have a kind of low cunning’ but that is the inference. Chris gets really narked and says what would Harrison know – he and Fallon have never had a child. Er, true, Chris, but then again, neither have you and Alice yet. Harrison apologises and all is forgotten. 

When Chris gets back to Alice, he confesses that he did tell Harrison about Alice going to detox (despite agreeing to keep it a secret), but Alice says that she knew that all along and she forgives her husband and loves him very much.

Speaking of love – or, more accurately, – lust, Ben has a brainwave and takes Ruairi to view an old caravan in a field at Brookfield. It was the same van that the boys used when they held their spectacularly unsuccessful ‘Love Sucks’ anti-Valentine’s night a couple of years ago. Time has not been kind to the caravan and Ruairi is spot on when he describes it as “a wreck.” Ben concedes that it needs a little work, which is like saying that the Mary Rose needed a lick of paint after it was salvaged. But what does Ben want it for? The answer, he tells his friend, is that, given some TLC, it could be transformed into a Love Shack.

Ben is fed up not having anywhere to take girlfriend Evie (and it’s still a bit parky for al fresco nookie) so this is the perfect answer – or it will be when the renovations are complete. True, David and Rooooth are relaxed about letting their son have ‘a friend’ stay overnight, but Ben cannot bear the embarrassment of his girlfriend being subjected to Jill’s third degree over breakfast. God knows what she says (‘did you have a nice orgasm dear?’ or ‘does he still suffer from premature ejaculation?’ maybe) but Ben sees the Love Shack as the answer to his prayers. Just don’t forget to put the chocks under the wheels Ben, or else it might end up in the milking parlour or, even worse, in the silage clamp.

Ruairi is sceptical, but when Ben asks whether Brian and Jennifer allow Ruairi to have friends of the opposite sex to stay over and that Ruairi could always use the Love Shack when Ben doesn’t need it, he begins to show some interest and agrees to help with the refurbishment. From their description of the state of the vehicle, I reckon that both lads will be drawing their pensions (or pushing up daisies) before it is in a habitable (for however brief a time) condition. Not that they will care overmuch. 

Let us finish with two contrasting love stories, involving two best friends. Kirsty goes to see Helen, to tell her that she has a visiting order to go and see Philip in prison. Helen isn’t convinced, but Kirsty is determined. When she arrives at the prison, Philip says “Hello, love –“ but Kirsty cuts him short, telling him not to call her ‘love’, ‘darling’ or anything similar or she will walk out. Philip has noticed that she is still wearing her wedding ring. Getting straight down to brass tacks, Kirsty says that she wants to know about Victoria. Phil is taken aback – how does she know about her? “I’ve seen Gavin” Kirsty replies curtly.

Philip suggests that Gavin must be having a breakdown, as he is talking rubbish. Kirsty reminds him that, if he pleads ‘not guilty’ then Gavin will get all the blame and could be looking at years inside. She also tells him that she is trying to find the lads and Philip is horrified – their owners are not nice people. “Like the sort of person who’d sell another human being? Kirsty asks. Philip denies that he sold anybody, but he admits that there may have been a finder’s fee for moving the lads on. He says that a long prison stretch would be unbearable, but adds: “I can’t plead guilty – I’ve done nothing wrong.”

This is the sort of measure of self-delusion of which Susan Carter would be proud, and it is the last straw for Kirsty. She tells her husband that he obviously does not have even a shred of decency left and there is no point in her staying any longer. Nor is there any point in her wearing her wedding ring any more, and it will go into the first bin that she comes across. Her parting shot is to say that there was no point in her coming there – “Our marriage was already over when I got here.” And she leaves without saying goodbye. Come on Kirsty – why not sell the ring and donate the proceeds to some deserving charity? Anti-slavery, perhaps? Or something green, maybe? That would seem to be more positive than just chucking it away. 

Helen talks to Lee on the phone and then goes round to see him, as they are planning a Chinese takeaway. Helen teases him about his behaviour with Henry last week – Henry thinks Lee’s a soft touch for buying him an ice cream when he wandered off. Helen says she’s been thinking, and she’s relaxed about Lee being a part of the boys’ lives. Would he be interested in moving into a house with her and the boys? Would he? You bet! “I’ve been dreaming of making a family with you and the boys for ages” he tells her, adding “Of course I would!” And there is the sound of a lingering kiss. Good for you Lee and Helen, I say, and I hope you have many happy years together – you deserve it.

It Must Be Something To Do With Lent

 David Troughton (Tony Archer)

In previous years, we have eagerly awaited the latest mad idea from the Reverend Alan Franks to celebrate the period of Lent – you remember; performing random acts of kindness, cooking meals for neighbours, holding your breath for forty days and suchlike (one of these ideas was just to see if you are paying attention). In fact, we were certain that the vicar had a monopoly on (and an unlimited source of) madcap ideas.

But not this year! Alan is horribly busy and the last thing he needs is for some nutter to come up with a daft idea. Step forward Lynda Snell, who is deeply concerned that, following the revelations of Philip’s use of slave labour, the village is in dire need of spiritual cleansing. “What’s needed is some kind of communal purge” she tells Alan. Alan has an imminent urgent appointment, but instead of telling Lynda that she is confusing him with someone who gives a toss, he asks what does she have in mind?

She says that, following the example set by Jesus, he should wash the feet of everyone in the village, whereupon Alan realises that Lynda has gone mad. He bursts into almost-hysterical laughter and reminds her that he has four parishes to look after and, anyway, twelve pairs of feet were enough for Jesus and here is Lynda, suggesting that he washes several hundred. Lynda says “what about the bishop?” I cannot help feeling that asking your boss to clean a crowd of people’s feet is not the best career move that you could possibly make. Plus, as Alan points out, it’s difficult to wash someone’s feet whilst maintaining social distancing, although I suppose he could use a high pressure garden hose.

Undeterred, Lynda has another idea – why not revive the Mystery Plays that were so popular a few years ago? Again, Alan pleads pressure of ecclesiastical duties, but Lynda replies that he need not get involved, as she has just the person in mind. That person is Kirsty, whom Lynda approaches and tells her that she will be ideal as the producer. Kirsty says ‘no thanks’ but Lynda warns her that she will not give up, and will employ ‘gentle persuasion’ (ie keep on nagging her until she gives in.)

I know that I am in danger of sounding like a broken record, but why oh why cannot someone just say, politely but firmly, something along the lines of ‘I couldn’t care less about village events – I’d just like to be left alone and I do not want to get involved. Please just try to get it into your head that I have no interest in your idea, neither can you appeal to my social conscience, as I don’t have one, so please just go away for ever.’ I tell you – I knew this giving up theatrics was a load of rubbish and the Mystery Plays gambit is the Christmas extravaganza ten months early. 

As predicted, Lynda keeps on at Kirsty, who sounds like she is beginning to waver, although she still says ‘no’. Stay strong Kirsty! Lynda lays it on with a trowel, telling Kirsty that she knows it will be “marvellous and magical” with Kirsty at the helm. Don’t listen Kirsty! Haven’t you got down-and-outs to track down? Having had a rant, I know that I am peeing against the wind and that Lynda’s will will prevail – even worse, since the Grey Gables explosion, she can always play the ‘look at me, I’m injured’ card. There should be a law against it.

Let’s ignore Lynda for now, so that my blood pressure can recover. Last week was Tony’s 70^th birthday and his son Tom has a dilemma – should he tell his father about the less-than-caring video message that Tony’s mum Peggy has contributed as a birthday tribute? In the end, and after a few sleepless nights, Tom decides that it will be less of a shock if Tony is prepared for it, so Tom lets him listen to it, and expresses the hope that Tony could laugh it off as a joke.

Ha! In your dreams Tom! Tony angrily tells him to turn it off and then goes off on one, saying that he has never been good enough in Peggy’s eyes and he’s not going to put up with it any longer – his mother is not welcome in his house any more and Tom is to ban her from his party. Interesting; I’ve never seen a 70 year-old throw his toys out of his pram before.

Tom is in a quandary – he doesn’t want to bear bad news to his gran, so he has the idea to get auntie Lilian involved. Lilian turns up at Bridge Farm and spells things out to her brother – Tony shouldn’t feel unwanted; he was unplanned, for sure, but Peggy loved him from first sight. She had a terrible birth, with the umbilical cord wrapped round the baby’s neck (so the birth wasn’t much fun for Tony, either). Even worse, the doctor told Peggy that the difficult birth was the result of her negative feelings during pregnancy; in short, if Tony had died, it would have been Peggy’s fault. 

Lilian says that Peggy has never been good at showing her feelings and, at the age of 96, she’s not likely to change now. “How would you feel,” asks Lilian, “if mum died tomorrow and the last thing that you had ever said to her was ‘I don’t want you to come to my birthday party’?” Tony capitulates and replaces the toys in the pram and, as we learn from Helen the following day, mother and son were very close and happy on the day. Incidentally, when I talked about Tony throwing his toys out of the pram, I did not include his present from Lilian and Justin, which was an expensive locomotive for his model layout – of course, Tony would strenuously deny that it could ever be classed as ‘a toy’…

I know the Archers is a story about country folk, but they have a fifth columnist in Ambridge, as we learn that Mia has come out as a Vegan. It seems only a few months ago that she was prattling baby talk, but now she has progressed to talking about ‘subverting the patriarchy’ when discussing Clarrie and Eddie renewing their marriage vows. Furthermore, she insists that they make sure that any confetti they have is 100% natural and biodegradable. Only then will she agree to be their bridesmaid – and even then, only if she doesn’t have to wear a fancy dress.

Mia is obviously a Greta Thunberg fan and she apologises to Eddie for criticising his ham sandwich at lunch the other day. Eddie points out that meat production is what Grange Farm and lots of surrounding farms do to make a living. Mia, who, I am afraid, is potentially growing into someone that I would cheerfully slap, gives Eddie a lecture on climate change. Eddie tries to put forward his point of view, but Mia is on her high horse – “Your generation just can’t see it” she tells her step-granddad. Meanwhile, Clarrie is pondering how she can make a pasta bake without using milk, butter, cheese or eggs. I think Mia is going to prove a bit of a handful.

Over at the playground, Emma has roped in Rex to help her construct the obstacle course that she wants to build for the ‘cleansing’ of the site – children (or, I suspect, their parents, more likely) have been boycotting it since they learned about the slave labour. She’s cut it a bit fine, as the place is supposed to re-open in a couple of days. Rex comes up with a few ideas and solutions, and the pair talk about what it is to have dreams Emma says that she was desperate to have a home in Beechwood, but now she couldn’t be happier with her mobile home and her family around her at Grange Farm.

For his part, Rex tells her that he is applying for the Council Farm, but he is pessimistic about his chances. Emma replies that, even if he doesn’t get it, she is sure that something else will come along; meanwhile we all need our dreams. Thank you, Mrs Micawber of Ambridge.

Helen is in a spot of bother – she has some urgent work to get done, but she has promised to take the boys to the playground opening. No sweat – Lee says that he can take the boys and she can get on with work. At the playground, Emma asks Lee if he and Henry will be entering the ‘father and son’ event. Lee says he doesn’t know – he’ll ask Henry. Panic! Henry is nowhere to be seen and Lee progresses swiftly into meltdown – should he call Helen? Should he call the police and report a missing child? Emma tells him not to worry; Henry is probably of playing with his mates. Sure enough, he turns up with George and other friends and Lee calms down.

Speaking to Lee on the phone later, Helen is amused at Lee’s reaction; even more so when Lee reveals that he bought Henry an ice cream (with a Flake); “a novel approach to discipline” Helen teases him. But Lee is serious and says that the two of them need to talk, to establish some ground rules about how to behave with each other’s children. Come on Lee, lighten up a little.

On Thursday, Kirsty has managed to shake Lynda off and she meets Helen to tell her that she (Kirsty) is going to visit Gavin in prison. Gavin is pleased to see her and, in answer to her questions, he says that he has told the police everything he knows about Victoria, the slave master, and the sale of the lads. He also mentions that Victoria has a reputation for being ruthless – something that does nothing to ease Kirsty’s disquiet about the lads’ fate. For his part, Gavin regrets the fact that he did nothing and even helped Blake put his bag in the car when the three lads were driven away after being sold.

Gavin goes on to say that his attitude to the lads changed when he had to spend some time looking after them in the flat and, after the sale, he had had enough and ran away. He admits that he missed the boys. He slept rough for some time “where I saw the best and the worst of some people” and the experience affected him and changed his outlook on a number of things; not least his attitude to his father Phil.

Kirsty asks how will he get on in prison, and Gavin replies that he will keep his head down and take what’s coming. He knows he doesn’t deserve Kirsty’s sympathy, but he’s glad he’s had the chance to say ‘sorry’. It seems that Gav is not the only one who has had a change of heart, as Kirsty says that she’d like to come and see him again. “You don’t have to” Gavin tells her, but she replies that she’d like to.

Gavin is either a superb actor, or he is genuinely repentant, as he says “When I get out of here, I’m going to be a better man – my own man this time.” Kirsty is impressed, and says “You know what? I believe you Gav.” He is obviously touched, as he tells her; “Thanks Kirsty – that means the world to me.”

That’ll Teach You To Talk To The Press, Neil

Brian Hewlett (Neil Carter)

There is a feeling among some people that journalists are not to be trusted, as they will twist everything you say. This attitude is, of course, totally fallacious, as the vast majority of journalists are honest, hard-working seekers after truth who wouldn’t dream of misrepresenting what they are told. But that’s enough about me – I have to admit that not all scribblers aspire to the same high standards.

Someone who would heartily agree with this point of view is Neil Carter, who was only too pleased to take the opportunity to talk to Rebecca – the reporter from the Echo – about the effect on the village of Phil Moss’s use of slave labour in his building work. In retrospect, perhaps it was unwise to mention that it was Neil who authorised Phil’s work at Berrow Farm, and it was Neil who gave him the job of renovating the church tower, and who grabbed Phil’s hand off when he quoted an absurdly low price for repairing/refurbishing the children’s playground. But what’s the harm?

On Monday, Susan mentions how much she is looking forward to seeing the article in print on Thursday; she thinks that people will be impressed by what she and Neil had to say and – who knows – it might even lead to her getting her Radio Borsetshire afternoon slot back? Even as she says this, Neil gets a call from Brian, who says that he’d like to see Neil at Berrow Farm – now.

Brian is definitely not happy – while it is true that the Echo comes out on Thursday, the content is available on the paper’s website, and Brian has been reading the article detailing the Carters’ interview. It identifies Neil as the pig manager at Berrow and mentions the work Philip’s crew carried out. An apoplectic Brian tells Neil that the article makes the Berrow management look heartless – why on earth did he go to the press? Neil’s explanation that the reporter came to them and said she wanted to write a ‘feel good’ piece about the effect on the village, does nothing to make Brian feel better. Martyn Gibson, Brian tells Neil, is ready to strangle Neil and Brian has been summoned to an emergency BL Board meeting. Brian adds that he will try to defend Neil, but it looks bad.

When Neil returns home, he finds Susan on the phone, threatening to sue the paper. Neil tells her to hang up, and does this for her, saying she’s probably done more harm than good. Susan wails that it is all her fault “and what will people think of us?” Neil’s response is that he is more worried about losing his job.

The following day, Tracy seeks out Susan, who has got cover for her stint in the shop, as she is too ashamed to do it. Neil, who is off to work, tells Tracy that the BL board is meeting to discuss the situation. When he has gone, Susan tells her sister that she has been the target of some extremely nasty comments online – she cannot believe how vile some of the language is and she is frightened. Susan has also told the radio station that she does not want her job back.

A disturbed Tracy seeks out Neil. He is pleased because the board did not sack or suspend him. However, he is less pleased when Tracy tells him how upset his wife is at being trolled and that people think that the Carters were involved in the slave labour racket. Neil is appalled and feels awful, but he resolves that he will not let Susan bear this burden alone.

Neil is feeling the pressure too, and on Thursday he goes to see Alan, but the vicar is away on church business and he is met by Shula. Can she help? Neil says she can pass on a message – he would like to resign as Churchwarden. Shula assures him that people are not judging him, and is he sure that he really wants to do this? Neil replies that he doesn’t want to bring St Stephen’s into disrepute, and Shula invites him in for a chat.

Neil repeats what he said to Brian – that he thought he was doing the right thing in giving the interview – and that the current situation, including Susan’s fears, is all his fault. Shula says that he has done nothing wrong and that he is “a good person; honest, caring, community-minded – an asset to Ambridge.” She admits that she is thinking of discontinuing her ordination process and Neil says she shouldn’t, as what she said about him applies to her as well, as “you’ve always been a special person.” In the end, they agree a deal; he won’t resign as Churchwarden as long as she doesn’t stop training for the priesthood. Says Neil; “Neither of us is ready to give up – not really.”

At the beginning of the week, Alice is in the office with Brian, who asks how will he manage without her when she goes on maternity leave? “Still, it’s only for three or four months, isn’t it?” he says, complacently. Wrong! Alice tells him that she was thinking of having a year off, which makes him sad, as Alice in the office is much more fun than Adam. Never mind – he has a little surprise present for his daughter; a cheque to help with the expenses for the baby. Not only that, but as we learn later when Alice talks to Chris, it is a cheque for £2,500. Just think what might have been, Alice, if you’d said that you wanted two years off. Alice reminds Chris that they are going to Peggy’s for dinner tonight. There is a scream, as Chris has shut his hand in his van door, and Alice later cancels the meal. Come on Chris – you could have just made an excuse not to go.

Emma is at The Lodge, talking to Peggy. Emma reveals that, since the revelations about Philip, the playground has hardly been used. Peggy thinks that this is ridiculous – the children shouldn’t be punished. Peg also talks about Chris and Alice – how are they? Emma feels a pang of remorse, as she has had no contact with them for ages. On Friday, she goes to see her brother at his forge. 

She sympathises with his hand injury (fortunately it’s not that serious) and tells him that Peggy said that Chris needs the support of his family because of the baby and Emma is family. She says that the four of them (including Alice and Ed) have always been close. Emma has an idea to ‘rehabilitate’ the playground – she suggests that they should make it into an assault course, charge people to enter and donate takings to an anti-trafficking charity.

Chris says that it sounds like a great idea. Emma then tells him that she would like to talk to Alice and why doesn’t she come to the Tearoom later for a chat, and complimentary tea and cake? Chris is not so sure that this is a good idea, but then goes on to ask “what sort of cake?”

Alice does indeed go to see Emma, who says she knows the two of them never really got on, but Emma is sorry for the things she said about Alice. For her part, Alice is sorry for the message she left on Emma’s phone (Alice was off her face at the time). Emma replies that they both said things they regret, so why not put it all behind them? Alice agrees, and tells Emma that she is prioritising the baby in everything. 

The talk turns to pregnancies and babies and Alice asks if childbirth is as painful and horrific as everybody says? Now I wanted Emma to say that it’s a piece of cake, as long as you refuse gas and air or an epidural, but she let me down when she says “it’s agony”, but she qualifies this by saying that she wouldn’t have missed it for the world and it is amazing and extraordinary. They both start crying and it seems that the rift is well and truly healed.

A digression here as Justin turns up at Bridge Farm to see Tony – he has been told to go by Lilian to look at Tony’s model railway. Justin makes it plain that he doesn’t want to be there (Lilian thinks he needs a hobby) and after a (very) few words, he says that he’s done what Lilian wanted, so he’ll go now. In the end, Tony gets him to look at the layout (Hollerton Junction in the 1960s) and reveals how he built it from scratch and painted each individual brick and building. Justin is appalled and says that he wishes that he was so easy to please. Having said that, he thinks that a new, joint business venture could be just the thing that he and Lilian need to rekindle their interest and zest for life. Railways, he tells Tony, are not his scene, and he is not ready to retire just yet, but “I admire your ability to settle in the slow lane.” Tony starts to protest, but then stops while he works out if he has been insulted or not.

Let us end with Shula, who has been sought out by Kirsty. Kirsty tells her that the police have told her that “she’s no longer a person of interest”, which seems a little harsh; she’s quite pleasant, really, although a massive relief. Kirsty turns the conversation round to Philip and Shula admits that she went to see him in prison, but she realised that it was a terrible mistake, as Philip would not admit that he had done anything wrong. Kirsty asks her if she will be going back to visit Philip again? “Absolutely not” the trainee priest answers.

Kirsty then asks if she would return if she thought she could do some good? She goes on to explain that she cannot sleep at night for thinking about the lads and the only person who knows where they are is Philip. If Shula could go and see him often enough, then she could win his confidence and he might reveal who he sold them to. Once they have this information, Kirsty the masked avenger could swoop and rescue them. Good plan, huh?

Shula is aghast; “You want me to use my clerical training to spy on him?” Kirsty counters by saying “I wouldn’t call it spying, exactly.” I suppose Shula should be grateful that Kirsty never asked her to trample on the Crucifix, or hold a Black Mass in Philip’s cell. “Do you realise what you are asking?” Shula asks; “You want me to deliberately gain someone’s confidence, and then betray them?” “In a very good cause” Kirsty answers. Oh, that makes it an awful lot better, and you could always cross your fingers behind your back, Shula. 

Shula informs Kirsty that she could be putting the lads’ lives in danger – if the traffickers got an inkling that Kirsty was on to them, then the boys could simply disappear (again) and then Kirsty would feel as guilty as hell. “Let the police deal with it,” says Shula, adding; “You have to stop this now and concentrate on sorting your life out. You are so close, you can’t see right from wrong.” Kirsty replies sullenly that she’s sorry she asked, but “I know now that I have to find out the truth for myself.” There is another, simpler solution; Kirsty’s body is found floating in the Am. That way, Victoria (slavemaster) is rid of an annoying pest and, as an added bonus, she gets to keep the three lads as slave labour and nobody is still any the wiser as to their whereabouts. Mind how you go, Kirsty - and keep looking behind you.