“Cage dancer, drug addict, unfit mother.” That’s a cracking soap CV by anyone’s standards and one that belongs to none other than Kylie Platt. Corrie’s hoop-earringed troublemaker is back after a six-month hiatus and it’s handy that pouting Sarah-Lou is here to remind Kylie’s husband David where her questionable talents lie.
She wasn’t the only one to have an opinion, either. “To be fair to her, she keeps her nails nice,” chipped in Callum, who’s becoming quite likable as drug-peddling lotharios of the cobbles go.
“At least I weren’t knocked up at 12,” Kylie sneered back. For someone who can’t even spell “low-key”, her return was a subtle one as she was egged on by Gemma, her mate from the wrong side of the tracks.
Ever the cheerleader, Gemma proved her vocabulary extends beyond squealing “Get some shots!” with a foray into parenting advice. “The kids won’t give a toss,” she said. “Just throw some toys in a bag or something.” Somebody call Supernanny, there’s a new child-rearing guru in town.
Sadly, the Kylie and David reunion wasn’t a harmonious one and their family therapy session saw Platt relations reach a new nadir. “It’ll be like a freak show round there,” predicted Callum, accurately.
David’s nostrils flared with anticipation as he rose to the challenge of saying something positive about another member of the family. “I like it when Kylie doesn’t take drugs or lies or goes disappearing for months on end,” he offered.
Never one to keep her thoughts to herself, Gail couldn’t wait to wade in. “We’ll be here all night if we let Gail have her say,” David warned. “We might as well rename it An Audience With Gail Platt. Or Rodwell. Or whatever she’s calling herself nowadays.”
Scenes of pure Corrie gold, then. Group confessions haven’t been this much fun since that time Blanche went to Peter Barlow’s AA meeting and made everyone there into her bitch.
Later Gail confronted Eileen, who was under suspicion of kissing Michael. A fight ensued outside Audrey’s salon, where Eileen tore at her opponent like a bull in hair foils. Gail’s jacket was the main casualty. “I’ve done you a favour cos you look like Wee Jimmy Krankie,” screamed Eileen. Harsh but fair.
Over in EastEnders, you don’t realise how much you miss Alfie Moon until someone else tries to take his place. Yes, HashtagAlfieHashtagMoon, with his catalogue of ridiculo-schemes and raw determination to lighten the mood after burning Kat’s face off in a house fire. You could always count on him to come to the fore in the summer, AKA Soaps Silly Season. Who will be the Alfie of 2015? Martin’s got his eye on the title, romancing Stacey by relentlessly calling her “babe”, despite the fact that she looks as if she wants kill again every time it happens.
But it’s Kush who keeps the spirit of the Walford fool alive. It takes a strong man to tussle with both Shabnam and Stacey, but the cheeky cheater still finds time for a particularly laddish brand of fun.
As much as he was keen to prove to Shabnam that he can actually get involved in Ramadan, one whiff of a pork scratching and he was down the Vic. Well, it was his 30th. “I’m not really a birthday person,” he lamented in a way that meant you just knew he’d be chained to the railings in the middle of Albert Square in nothing but his pants just hours later.
Amd so he was. “Phwoar, you could eat your dinner off them abs,” perved Donna as a gaggle of women stopped by to take selfies with the naked berk. Fortunately, Shabnam didn’t discover her fiance shackled with the furry handcuffs, but that’s not to say she doesn’t have her own issues. First, Shirley brought her and despicable Dean’s lovechild to the Square, then she discovered she was pregnant.
In other cheating news: it turns out Carol has been offering Buster more than just extra chips on the side. Oh, Carol. Nobody can deny the dark horse the chance of happiness after years of putting up with her rancid family and taking in the horror that is Cindy, but surely there are far less dangerous ways to get your kicks than polishing the head of Shirley’s man.
Every time Charity Dingle gets sent to prison, a little piece of Emmerdale withers and dies. So it’s a delight to see she’s still causing trouble even while serving time.
They must serve the curry hot in jail because every time Charity gets banged up she goes into labour. Noah was born in the clink, and Charity’s motherly instincts forgot to kick in as she was rarely seen with the poor boy. This time round, it’s Debbie who’s left holding the baby. Her choice of name proved controversial. “Moses? Who calls a baby Moses?” fumed Charity, who seems to have forgotten she’s related to Chastity, Shadrach and Tinkerbell. Although with major surgery to get through, the name’s the least of his problems.
So who’s the daddy? Jai? No. Cain? Not this time. A wildcard, actually: Ross, currently a very busy man as he’s Debbie’s bit on the side. “We had one bunk-up in the back of the chop shop,” he whimpered. By Charity’s standards, that’s the stuff of true romance.
