A friend going to church in the country saw one sheep holding a dustbin lid while another sheep ran at it. Several psalms later, they were still at it though they might have changed sides. Hard to tell with sheep. Even sheep have to make their own entertainment in Ambridge because there are acres and acres when nothing whatsoever happens. The highlight of the week was a farm walk in which people actually came to look at holes in the ground (“There’s another hole in the next field!”).
Now Rob has left blood-soaked Blossom Cottage, it falls to Toby to buck things up a bit. Toby (“I’ve got a bit of a cashflow problem”) is full of good ideas. The best of these is home-brewed gin. Elizabeth is encouraging: “Gin with a whiff of the hedgerow.” Pip is cautious: “Dingleberries are poisonous.” Apparently, you can add anything to gin. Jam. Anything. The world’s your larder.
David Archer – whose strength, like Galahad, is as the strength of 10, because his heart is pure – was furious and closed Toby’s gin still down. But Toby had read the small print on his lease, which Galahad – what with the helmet and visor and all – hadn’t. So Ambridge Gin is on again. A catchy brand name is solicited for this promising tipple.
Ambridge’s premier gin tippler is David’s Aunt Lilian, whose motto is: “There’s a dance in the old girl yet!” She has been having a fling with Justin, who is rich and ruthless and married. Rob, who has silkily sashayed into blackmail, Now Knows All.
If this sounds like a pantomime, it is. Lynda is producing her widely dreaded Mother Goose, with Tom (last seen legging it from the altar) and Kirsty (his abandoned bride) playing young lovers. When Kirsty queried this, Lynda said: “Use it, Kirsty! Use it! It’s what real actors do!” Which, in the circumstances, verges on the offensive.
I was, however, very taken with The X Factor interlude starring two of Ambridge’s silent characters, Molly Button, the infant phenomenon, and the sinister Nathan Booth. Molly did a belly-dance while Nathan attempted a speciality act. “What was he doing with those ping-pong balls?” asked Lynda, bemused.
“Well, that was quaite … ” said the continuity announcer stiffly. Only a BBC announcer can say “quaite” quite like that.
A month in Ambridge returns on 4 January.
