Five things we've learned from Classic Coronation Street this week

(No) Curtains for Ida

We waved a not so fond farewell to poor Baldwin's Casuals troublemaker Ida Clough this week. Ida was a semi-regular for a decade but was restricted to factory-based stories and generally only popped in to cause bother. Often found in the sewing room or a booth at the Rovers, she had a face liked a squashed barmcake and was rarely seen without her equally unappetising colleagues, Ivy and Vera. I actually felt a bit sorry for Ida as she remained on the second rung of Corrie staples for ten years, perched uncomfortably beside the likes of Sam Tindall. While Ivy and Vera graduated from small part players to actually owning homes on the Street, complete with families, Ida was tabard bound for all those years with only brief visits from her caridgan-wearing dope of a son Bernard and her disgusting gob on a stick daughter, Muriel.

Muriel Clough was a three part harmony of Renee Roberts, Amy Burton and Olive from On The Buses. Surprisingly, she didn't last long. The early part of the week was dominated by a dreary story at the faktry which saw Baldwin shift production from denim flares (well it was nearly the 90s) to curtains. This caused an incredible amount of friction with thick, unpleasant mouth mountain Vera apoplectic with rage. Vera really was quite horrible back in the day and is far removed from the softer granny persona we came to know and love later on. Anyway, Ida shot her mouth off once too often so Mike very swiftly gave her the boot. Never fear though, she would return later in the year for Ivy's wedding to Don. I know you're as excited for that festival of polyester as I am.

Broken Britain

 

Curly Watts, who has been at something of a loose end since Terry Duckworth took off with that Polish prostitute from Brookside, found himself in the role of Weatherfield's moral compass this week. While Kev and Sal ran into bother with their mortgage application thanks to an unpaid debt and Martin Platt was paid under the Rovers bar for renovating Number 13 whilst claiming benefits, Curly was a picture of honesty and decency, calling them all out. Well fair enough, Sally quickly bought him off, not once, but twice with half-inched Walnut Whips from Alf's serving hatch. I really liked Curly's young man with an old soul. 

In the kind of storyline they just don't feature anymore, Curly had recently taken steps to better himself. Enrolling at Weatherfield Tech on a business degree, his intentions were excellent even if this positivity would soon lead to an extended spell working with Ken Morley in a disused branch of Prestos. Yes binman Curly had come a long way. And things were about to get a lot more interesting as young machinist Shirley Armitage had taken a fancy to him too. This week saw Curly escort Shirley to the pictures to see Nightmare On Elm Street III. Oh the glamour. Thankfully we were spared the details of what Shirley did to steam up Curly's specs in the back row at the Roxy.

Thanks a bunch, Pauline!

 

This week saw Sarah-Lou's first birthday party! So of course Gail had to throw a vibrant party full of love, cheer and caterpillar cake. Well actually what Sarah got was a homemade sponge, a bag of cheesy puffs and three bottles of cheap plonk from Alf's in the company of Phyllis, Don, Ivy and Gail's mate Pauline. All this in the drab setting of the Tilsley living room at Hammond Road. Of course the whole thing was really just an excuse for Brian to pop the question and ask Gail to marry him once again. Gail being Gail, she flew into a strop, look heaven-ward a great deal and fluttered her eyelashes endlessly. Brian reacted in typical house brick fashion. 

Later, Pauline was back full of anticipation at the thought of extra lolly for filming some wedding scenes. She couldn't understand Gail's reticence and pretty much frogmarched her down the aisle with the threat that if she turned him down, Brian would become a weekend dad to her kids. I was wrong-footed by Pauline's delivery of this line as it seemed to suggest that would be a bad thing. Gail, all tracksuit and scrunchie, feared this decision would mean a lifetime of being Mrs Brian Tilsley. I wouldn't worry, cock. I really wouldn't worry...

 

Mavis Riley, Gold Digger

 

In a slightly bizarre story strand, which may or may not have been pointless padding, Mavis and Rita took on a geriatric paperboy this week. Our Reet was forever being rushed off her feet despite the fact that the Kabin was only ever visited by Percy Sugden and Gail looking for change. Anyway new papergrandad Harry Ashton was taken on and soon caused a right kerfuffle with the very best Sylvia Young's theatre school had to offer in Wayne Pickles and the gloriously named Priscilla Millbanks (played by future Brookside lesbian nanny Nicola Stephenson). When the shell-suited brats threatened to strike Mavis donned her best pussy bow blouse and released her inner Iron Lady over tea and iced buns to set them straight.

I quite liked the character of Harry (played by Keith Marsh, who once upon a time had starred in the Sid James sitcom George and the Dragon - just call me a televisual saddo). Harry relished the job and enjoyed getting his Jimmy out first thing in the morning. Stop it now, that's his dog. After treating Mave to a posh tea at the steakhouse in the precinct, Miss Riley received a visit from Harry's sister, who whilst thumbing through a copy of Vogue, accused Mavis of being after Harry's cash! I always knew she was a fast cat on the quiet. I almost wish Mavis and stuck with Harry as he was a damn sight less irritating that Demon Derek.

Souk it up, Alec

 

Bet Gilroy started the week treating Alec's tastebuds to a ready meal moussaka from Alf's. In typical earthy fashion, Bet enquired about the product by asking young Sally "ay up cock, what's this muuuuusaka when it's arrr 'ome?" At least it's an improvement on that cock up au vin she fed him the other week. Having settled into married life well enough, Bet was rightly peeved at Alec's reluctance to whisk her off on a honeymoon. The best part of two episodes were spent following Bet follow Alec round the Rovers like Judith Chalmers on heat (what's new you ask?) Eventually Bet gave up and announced she'd booked ten days in Morocco with fellow landlady Stella Rigby.

Alec was horrified. Apparently La Rigby had a reputation for having a go at anything in trousers so let's hope Bet left her slacks at home. I wish we'd seen more of Stella of the White Swan. Bet and Stella were worthy successors to the lady vics rivalry of Annie Walker and Nellie Harvey from many years earlier. Camp, backcombed and shoulder pads-a-plenty, they injected some much needed 80s glamour into a Weatherfield world of loose perms, tabards and bacon slicers. And there was definitely a spin off to be made of Bet's jaunt to the souks of Marrakesh with our Stella.

Sadly there's no time to pull apart Don and Ivy's bizarre market stall exploits with a load of exercise wheels. I'm sure you'll be heartbroken. And for fans of Fanny, get in quick. Only four episodes left before Amy Burton, the tinned salmon pinching, hat with teeth is hoofed out of Weatherfield in the boot of Vera's Nova.

Until next time...

You can follow me on Twitter @GraemeN82 if you fancy a natter...

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