In Gail we trust . . .

As Gail Potter-Tilsley-Tilsley-Platt-Hillman-MacIntyre begins her 39th year on t'cobbles, it would appear to be 'business as usual' for the hapless floor scrubber. In the past few years, we have seem Gail metamorphose from cheerless harridan to loopy lav cleaner. Hurrah for that. The old Gail was a bit of a drain on sympathy and at one point, it was commonplace for this blogger to bellow "Oh just hurry up and die" every time she appeared on screen.

Die though, Gail did not. Instead, the rubbish receptionist has re-invented herself as caring gran, concerned mother and would-be bar hostess. However, our Gail has always enjoyed a bit of male company in the same way that a scorpion enjoys a bit of a sting. Therein lies the problem for poor old Lewis Archer. For all his moustache-twirling, cape-swirling outdated evil posturing, he does not seem to have weighed up the challenge that is Gail Mac. Over the years she has disposed of a bore, a wimp, a serial killer and a loon. Her other men-friends are few and far between but we can only applaud 1980s dullard 'Jeff' and ridiculously tall Phil Nail for having escaped, although the idea of Gail Nail was almost too good to resist.

Lewis does not seem to realise what a force of destruction Gail can be. All he can hear is the gigglesome voice and see her batting her eyelashes like a Hanoverian trollop. Deep down though, does Gail have something else in mind? Surely she realises what a liaison with Lewis would do to poor old Aud and therefore should not even entertain the idea. Or is Gail silently planning her own revenge on the philandering wine waiter? Will Mrs Mac be serving up a deadly cocktail at the Bistro? Will this temptress in a tabard surprise us all with her terrifying quest for justice? Probably not.

Gail Potter-Tilsley-Til . .. etc, a nation waits! While we wait though, could you give those urinals a quick once-over?


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