It was a sight that should have had us weeping into our Friday night fish and chips (mushy peas too if that's to your fancy . . .) Poor old deluded Gail Pot-Til-Til-Pla-Hil-Mac, face of a thousand miseries, realising that she's been well and truly shafted. Although not in the way she had anticipated. People of Britain, weep openly for this most wronged of women. Shed sympathetic tears.
Having said that, I treated myself to a jolly good laugh as Gail in her tabard reaped what she had so richly sown. Slumped on the sofa, I suddenly realised that I've never really liked Gail. As a child, I always loathed that hideous sheepskin coat that she shuffled around in. There was a brief ray of sunshine during her Elsie years but even then, I always favoured slutty Suzie Birchall. The came Our Brian with his Farrah Fawcett hairdo and dodgy accent which is when things really started to go down hill.
For over thirty years it has felt like an endless tale of Gail versus the world. Horrible Ivy (and her disgusting clunky brown tea service), philandering Martin Platt, a wealth of disappointing children (frail, elderly Nick, unappetising Sarah and Weasel David), the micro-bijou house, the council house, Ivy's spare room, murderous Hillman, tedious Joe, prison, cackling Eileen . . . on it goes.
There were good times I suppose. Gail's years in the café with Alma and Phyllis were fun and . . . err, no that's it to be honest. Her best friend, indeed only friend, seems to be Sally whose moral pontificating is enough to have you jumping from the faktry roof. In fact that only person Gail even seems to have any social contact with is the doleful Eileen, rumbling across t'cobbles like a Primark tractor, barbed comment at the ready.
Where to next for the former Miss Potter? Well, the only was is up. No doubt she will repair to a corner, don one of those grim polo-necked creations and begin building bridges. Literally. Owen should employ her as a hod carrier.
Audrey will eventually come around, Nick will be supportive and David will sneer a few one-liners in her sorry direction. For Gail though, it could be the chance to start over. New home, new job and a fresh outlook on life. I'm kidding of course! We want to see her wallow in an olive jar of misery and strike up a relationship with someone totally unsuitable. Rob quite likes a challenge . . .
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