People of Coronation Street, give thanks to Beth’s life-saving shoe. Just as the staff of Underworld got glammed up to watch Carla pick up the award for “north-west ballbreaker of the year” or something at a fancy hotel, Beth came a cropper. There she was, warming up with a refreshed frug to Tina Charles in her living room, when she took a tumble on a stray bit of carpet. Curse those vertiginous wedges, but at least spraining her ankle and missing that bus meant she’d be safe from any unglamorous scenes where her hairdo was ruined and her life hung in the balance.
Because, yes, it was time for the Big Corrie Crash, in which a minibus full of revellers ended up perched on a cliff-edge. Well, as near as you get to a cliff-edge on a ring road just outside Weatherfield. Carla’s arch-enemy Tracy Barlow is never one to shy away from drama but even she was reluctant to join Carla’s big night out. “She already thinks she’s God’s gift to gussets and you want me to watch a bunch of millionaire movers and shakers telling her that she’s a superstar?” she snarled, as only La Barlow can. Glorious Julie, meanwhile, was among the most dolled-up for the occasion in her elaborate prom dress. “It looks like silk, it hangs like silk. Viscose. But I feel like Elizabeth Taylor,” she chirped.
There are many people who’d have found blessed relief from being mangled in the minibus: Michael, with his life-threatening heart condition, aggravated by those love scenes with Gail; or his fake son, Gavin, a man on the road to storyline nowhere. Even perma-pest Mary, who’s taken on a new lease of life since she channelled her inner Sheena Easton at Kirk and Beth’s wedding, could be put out of her misery. Sadly, it was knicker-stitchers-only aboard the bus, bar a depressed Steve, drafted in at the last minute and struggling to cope behind the wheel. One spectacular Corrie stunt later and the Underworld employees were fighting for their lives in the upturned vehicle.
The hardy types fared best. Tough-as-old-slingbacks Maddie, granted a legitimate excuse to slap Sally round the face, became suddenly useful, bringing her back to life and finally getting the chance to administer the violence that had been brewing ever since they locked eyes in that soup kitchen. Sean, meanwhile, woke up with the air of a man who’d just dozed off down Canal Street, panicking that he’d missed last orders.
With so much hairspray in one minibus, the whole thing threatened to blow, and Carla was still trapped inside. Behold Tracy, the cockroach of the cobbles, who came to her rescue, putting aside their mutual hatred for a heroic split second. It was poor Sinead who felt the lasting effects, though, paralysed in a hospital bed with little hope of walking again. Although her make-up stayed perfect, her nervous system didn’t and now she’s resigned to weeks of long-lost relatives turning up to gorge on Dev’s out-of-date chocolates at her bedside.
Over in EastEnders, Dean’s days are numbered. There’s no greater indignity than being carted out of the Queen Vic on a rape charge while the light relief that is Kim belts out Big Spender. He didn’t even get a chance to stay for Kush’s Eye Of The Tiger, which was supreme.
After lying his handsome face off to the police, Dean was back on the loose, but all those accusations aren’t good for business. It’ll take more than half-price cuts to convince the ladies of Walford to step inside Blades. “It’s a new strategy, innit?” said that old sage Kat. “Haircut by a pervert.”
Even Shirl’s not convinced of her boy’s innocence, trying to get him to leave town. Of course, Mick, at his Danny Dyer best, took the law into his own hands and cornered the man who raped his missus in one of those deserted Walford wastelands that only appears when things are about to get proper naughty. If Dean was hoping for nothing more than an arm-wrestle and a “GET AHHHT”, he didn’t show his fear. Quite unwise, as EastEnders suddenly turned into a dimly lit gangster movie, with Mick barely containing his glee as he got to deliver menacing lines such as: “I want to kill you – I want to throw you to the floor and I want to stamp out your worthless little life.” Pure Dyer Fiy-ah.
Much more frightening than Mick Carter on a roll is Charity Macey (nee Dingle, formerly Tate, Sharma, Uncle Tom Cobley and all) donning her “least insurance swindley outfit ever” as she prepared for her big day in court. Groomed of hair and cold of heart, the Emmerdale goddess has been assiduously dodging her comeuppance ever since she masterminded an insurance scam and ran local cleaner Rachel out of town for bearing a lovechild by her (now ex-) husband. Tensions ran high as she took the stand, but she still found enough time to declare her love for Cain and to make sure he promised to look after Noah, the son she saw so little of he’d hardly notice she was in prison. And she barely quivered as she was banged up for two years. “Take her down”? Nobody will EVER take a soap goddess like Charity down.
