Roy Barraclough remembered at special event this May

Coronation Street expert Mark Llewellin will be giving a talk on the career of Roy Barraclough, who played Coronation Street's Alec Gilroy.

Mark is patron of Willow Wood who provides specialist palliative care to those suffering life limiting illnesses. Roy Barraclough was the hospice's first patron and proceeds from the talk will go to Willow Wood.

If you're in the area, you really won't want to miss Mark's talk. It takes place on May 9 at 7pm.  Tickets include cheese and wine, cost £15. 

The event takes place at the hospice, OL6 6SL. Call 0161 330 7788 to book.

You might also like to view other fan events for 2019 here.

Fancy writing a guest blog post for us? All details here!  

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Five things we learned from Classic Coronation Street this week

Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye...

This week was all about the departing Hilda Ogden. Following her attack at Dr Lowther's house, Hilda had become quite a recluse and despite the efforts of a caring Sally and Kevin, saw little point in going on. Jean Alexander was a joy in these scenes, acting her socks off and clearly relishing her final storyline. A bleak mid-winter trip to Stan's grave was particularly moving. Before too long though, a bright new future beckoned as Mrs O was offered the chance to move out to Dr Lowther's country cottage and become his housekeeper. It was a bittersweet send off for such a glorious, iconic character but it all felt so right that Hilda got a happy ending.


The famous Christmas Day episode which featured Bet and Mike Baldwin throwing on a surprise party in the Rovers was warm, happy and joyful with the vast majority of the cast squeezed in the Rovers set. It felt like everyone was getting a turn at a final scene with Jean Alexander, with most of her fellow actors appearing in the iconic set of Number 13 over the course of her final episodes. I dreaded the goodbye when it came as there could only be one Hilda and one Jean Alexander. She was a class act and one of the main reasons these repeats have been so worth watching.

Bet's past is showing

 

In a glorious moment during Hilda's farewell party, the woman of the hour in one last classic instance of tact, dropped a subtle hint to Alec that Bet knew Mike Baldwin rather well, nudge nudge, wink wink. As the camera panned away, Alec visibly tightened in every conceivable orifice at the thought of his new wife up the ginnel with the Cockney lothario. This led on to several days of Alec and Bet bickering behind the bar, driving away customers (well Don and Ivy, so it wasn't all bad news) and Alec sleeping in the spare room. 

Of course Alec had nothing to worry about as by this stage, our Bet was strangely devoted to Mr Gilroy despite his penny pinching ways, bad taste in sweaters and peculiar sexual mores. What am I talking about? Well, cast your mind back to Alec's sojourn to Germany with his touring show (comprising a blistering array of turns we'd sadly never meet). Bet and Alec enjoyed several saucy conversations over the phone and at one point swastikas were mentioned. Goodness only knows what went on in that pale pink boudoir up those Rovers stairs.

Fanny's on the rob

 

Fanny Carby continued to grate on my nerves this week as Amy Burton, slotting in to the now absent Hilda Ogden role awkwardly and without many positive character traits. Slovenly rubbing a dirty duster over the Rovers bar, fag in hand, she gave endless cheek to poor old Jack and continued to run rings around her idiotic daughter Vera. Percy Sugden had one of the lines of the week when he barked across the bar that Amy was a "demented old trollop" after she accused him of undressing her with his eyes. I should imagine nobody ever got past that hideous hat, forever suctioned onto her gob-laden face. 

Just when Amy hit rock bottom, she started digging herself a hole under the viaduct. Whilst doing some typically 1987 shopping at Alf's (a packet of party rings, a tin of sliced pears and an industrial sized jar of Daddies Sauce) human cheese grater Amy half inched a tin of salmon, bold as brass. Little Sally didn't know what to do and when Amy the Arduous returned the next day to stick a family sized jar of Maxwell House down her drawers, both Audrey and Sally reacted like a couple of coma-bound store detectives. I can see how this will pan out. Alf will get exasperated, lose his cool and accuse Amy, who will deny it while Vera loses her dentures calling Mr Roberts all the names under the sun. Only to find out once again that she's in the wrong and her family is yet again comprised of lary, unappetising rejects from the pages of Viz.

Carry On, Cabby

 

Despite enduring a night out with Ivy, Jack and Vera earlier in the year, cab driver Don Brennan was back on the scene this week and he only had Ivy on his mind. This romance seems to have progressed quite quickly, with Don easily winning over Brian the Teeth and Gail. Don even presented Ivy with a very expensive gold watch (a quick dash to Ratner's in his Cavalier no doubt) but the viewers were left to ponder whether this fledgling romance had yet been consummated, or consumed as Hilda might have once put it (sob!)

Ivy and Don are quite a good match in these early episodes, all working class good humour and steak and kidney puddings in her front parlour. At this stage Ivy is still wearing that winter coat which makes her look like something from Fraggle Rock and her hair is very much that of a Vauxhall Conference footballer, but obviously Don could see past these minor trifles. Of course before too long they'd be wed, Don would have one leg, with the other repeatedly rammed up Baldwin's backside. And Ivy would be off her head, walking the streets of Weatherfield in her nightie before doing a midnight bunk to a convent. The way ITV3 are going through these repeats, we should be seeing those scenes in early summer. Something to look forward to there.

Jenny Bradley: Man Eater

I had a feeling Patrice would be back on the scene as soon as Alec started mentioning croissants in the Rovers. Sure enough, Jenny flamin' Bradley's fiance was back just after Christmas and as the pair embraced on Rita's vile couch, all we could see was lots of lots of very 80s hair - and that was just Patrice. Rita was obviously heartily sick of mentioning Patrice so every time his name appeared in the script she started calling him Patrick. Fair enough really, although I quite like him myself. He had a lovely little twinkle and provided a much needed quota of Eurotrash to the cobbles. 

Anyway, their reunion was not all it cracked up to be, what with Jenny being a gobby mare, a juvenile spoilt teenager and a rather scary ginger to boot. There was constant festive skriking which made a pleasant change from Mavis crying into her Bailey's at the thought of Derek all alone in a bedsitter in Withington. One forgets just what a nasty-faced baggage Jenny was back in the day as she attended Sally and Kevin's party and copped off with best friend Lisa's fella, Gary. I have no idea why Jenny-from-the-ginnel felt the need to do this as Patrice exuded floppy haired Gallic charm while Gary Grimshaw was dressed like a disgraced radio disc jockey and had obviously suffered a sideburn malfunction. 

Until next week!

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

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Five Things we Learned from Classic Coronation Street this week

Fear of Fanny

Carby that is. Nothing against the late actress Fanny Carby, I'm sure she was a lovely lady who enjoyed a great career elsewhere, but what the hell is Amy Burton? Obviously preparing for the departure of Weatherfield grandee Dame Hilda of the Muriel, Vera's adenoidal ma was quickly shoehorned in this past week without any previous mention. Apparently she had visited several times before, however until now she'd obviously never popped over on a Monday or a Wednesday. This irritating foghorn of an old crone has made Vera seem almost reasonable and underplayed while her constant skriking has had me actually feeling sorry for Jack Duckegg. 

And it's going to get worse before it gets better. She set upon Alec up his back entry (Stop it) at the end of last week and was soon installed as the new Rovers cleaner. Good luck Gilroys as Amy looks more spit'n'chammy than bleach and elbow grease. Fortunately old Ma Burton would be gone by the following Spring, the Coronation Street production team suddenly coming to their senses and realising she was certainly no replacement for Terry crawling about under the breakfast table in his grundies.

Trouble at Dr Lowther's

Most of this past week has focussed on the violent (for 1987 Corrie) attack on poor old Hilda and Mrs Lowther. The Lowthers' were packing up their house and set to move away to Derbyshire and this, hard as it is for me to type, marked the beginning of Hilda's exit storyline after 23 years in the show. Even though these are repeats and we know it's coming, I've gotten so used to Jean Alexander's beautiful performances that I'm just not ready to say goodbye. The attack storyline, a bungled robbery, was actually quite shocking and featured much more location filming than normal at the time. The use of a real, rather grim looking hospital added to the drama. And back in those pre-multi channel days, with only two episodes going out each week, the cheeky cliffhanger which left viewers guessing which character had passed away would keep viewers hooked for five whole days, not the thirty minutes we're used to nowadays. 

One of the joys of this rather sad story, which also shone a light on Hilda's loneliness, was the brief return of the glorious Geoffrey Hughes as Eddie Yeats. Geoffrey came back for two episodes as he wanted one last chance to act with Jean before she left the show. Lovely stuff. Of course the drama of the situation was lessened slightly by the fact one of the violent thugs was played by Heartbeat's P.C Bellamy, Joan Lowther's sister by the actress who played tarty Marina in Last of the Summer Wine and the hospital consultant by the guy who played the husband of Sonia in the Julia McKenzie 80s sitcom Fresh Fields. And yes, I am that sad.

Alec Gilroy, Employer of the Year

One of the knock on effects of Hilda's hospitalisation this week was Bet having to don a tabard and set to cleaning the Rovers. Alec was most put out and as usual when Alec is put out, Roy Barraclough is at his funniest and most comedically inventive. Not only could he not lay his hands on a teabag, but he rather worryingly found a plentiful supply of jelly in the Rovers' kitchen. He had no idea why it was there but I have a creeping suspicion Bet does (shudder). In a brilliant line, Alec expressed his dismay at the thought of Bet going down the street in a pinny and headscarf looking like a woman who "had been driven from home". The mind boggles.

Later, Alec paid Hilda a visit, ostensibly to check in on the hardworking char but really just to chivvy her back to work. Failing to mask his shock at the sight of the infamous muriel, Alec uses that brilliant Gilroy tact to ask when Hilda will be back scrubbing the Rovers' toilets. With a toe-curling yet joyous touch of comedy, Alec carefully places a bottle of mild on the table in front of Hilda, almost like popping some cheddar on a trap. We soon found out that Mrs O was having none of it as once Alec returned to the pub, that same bottle of mild was bunged back on the bar top! 

The Rosamund Street Avengers

Derek Wilton, the John Steed of travelling salesmen, snivelled back into view this week, once again taking advantage of poor, twittery Mavis. In the hands of lesser actors this storyline may have been little more than an irritating diversion, however Peter Baldwin and Thelma Barlow are just delicious as Derek and Mavis, tying themselves in knots over the intrigue of the mysterious Angela and her alleged paramour. Derek, while sick of domineering Angela and her vile son Neville, seemed quite determined to leave his wife until he remembered his career, his company car and his pension. The scenes which saw Derek turn up on Mavis's doorstep one dark and stormy night, were beautifully played, with Mavis a little bundle of simmering sensuality at the thought of Derek sleeping on the sofa. She was deliciously coquettish in her pink winceyette, knitted toys on her candlewick. 

Rita raised more eyebrows than she sold humbugs this week as she cut through the Brief Encounter romantics with her razor sharp ginger wit. There was a lovely scene when Rita expressed her care and concern for Mavis though and it was smashing to see the genuine warmth and affection between those two chalk and cheese characters. Derek, calling on Mavis like Steed on Mrs Peel, made it clear she was needed and she was off in Rita's Fiesta to the Harvester last seen during Brian and Gail's estrangement the previous year. As Angela and her man friend enjoyed roast lamb and baked potatoes, Mavis sidled round a print of Constable's Haywain while Derek slunk even lower into the passenger seat of Reet's runaround. Belting stuff.

Audrey's Hard Labour

Poor Aud. In the days before Alma resurfaced, our Mrs Roberts was forced to divide her time between filing her nails behind the counter of Alf's Mini Market and taking never-ending tea breaks at Jim's Cafe. With young Martin the Mullet not yet back behind the Horlicks dispenser and Phyllis away having her throat re-gravelled, Audrey was frying chips for long distance lorry drivers and buttering teacakes for Percy. After a long day feeding the faces of folk, Aud exclaimed that she was too old for hard graft and insisted Alfeh took her out for tea. Little did Audrey know what was to come: serial killer son in laws, Gail scrapping in the street in her dressing gown, Demon David, a lapdancing great-granddaughter and Nicky suddenly looking twenty years older than she does. I'm sure our Aud is now sitting in her glamorous gran-pad at Grasmere Drive, looking back misty eyed at the days when all she had to do was shovel chips and submit to Alfeh's salacious desires.

Until next time...

I'm on Twitter @GraemeN82 if you fancy a natter

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Five Things we Learned from Classic Coronation Street this week

 

Weatherfield's very own Fanny

Cradock that is. Bet, taking offence at some less than flattering comments from an unknowing Mavis in the Corner Shop, set out to prove that she was capable of becoming the world's best housewife. Alec was appalled at the thought of Bet ditching her gleaming pumps for a life of pinny-clad servitude even if she does "grill a decent chop". Mrs Gilroy wasn't listening though as she sent off a convoluted shopping list to Alf's (she even bought some of Sally's garlic croutons, proving our Sal was always a bit above herself). Bet spent the morning on her table setting, struggling to make swans out of napkins and burning her toast corners. 

Sadly, all Bet's guests dropped out and Emily and Mavis (or Hinge and Bracket as Alec had nicknamed them earlier in the week) were forced to endure Bet's lumpy casserole and flacid meringue. Our Rovers landlady definitely put the cock in coq au vin. The Gilroy pair sitting round the dinner table with Mave and the Bish was a delicious comedy of errors and Thelma Barlow shone as the twittery Mavis, suffering from endless coq in mouth syndrome as Bet's facade crumbled. Julie Goodyear and Roy Barraclough brought such vim and vigour to the Rovers Return and they are a constant, comedic joy. There was real heart and love in their relationship and that balanced out the comedy oh so nicely.

French Farce

 

I guess we forget in these modern cosmopolitan days that not so long ago French France seemed a million miles away. In those far off, pre-Brexit days, people didn't just swan off to la belle France at the drop of a beret. Unless you're Jenny flamin' Bradley that is. Good lord but she's an irritating little ginger madam. Taking advantage of innocent young Martin Platt once more (after trapping him upside down in Reet's Fiesta not so long ago) Jen conned herself a ride to a life of sunburn and soggy grapes in the south of France. Selfish little feather-headed Bradley didn't return with Martin though, after swanning off with some French piece by the name of Patrice Podevin. Cue as many dubious French stereotypical references as you could shake an 'Allo 'Allo shaped stick at. I was waiting for Alan Bradders to drop in a mention of the fallen Madonna with the big boobies.

Jenny eventually drifted back to Rita and Alan, who had spent the week beside themselves; Alan threatening to thump anything with male genitalia and Rita sniping at Mavis as if she'd just caused a Weatherfield aniseed ball shortage. PATrice (as Jenny kept addressing him) soon charmed Alan and Reet with cheap wine and some form of worryingly described lace frillies. I just hope the wine was for Alan. Jenny spent the rest of the week's episodes prancing around the street, ring first, shoving it under everyone's nose. We all know it ain't going to end well, after all PATrice has already endured bed and breakfast at the Rovers at £20 a night. I can only hope he wasn't offered the leftovers from Bet's beanfeast for brekkie. 


Glossop calling Susan

 

Mike Baldwin was over the moon this week, resplendent in a rather dashing grey pleather sports jacket. What's not to love? After weeks of Susan slumping herself through those kitchen swing doors at St Mary's Place, she finally confirmed she was pregnant with MVB's baby. Scottish wines and cigars all round! Except poor little bitch girl Sue isn't exactly over the moon at the thought of being (as someone delightfully put it) "up the stick" with the fruit of Mike's loins. Shudder. Susan keeps bleating on about having a life, having a career before settling down to motherhood. To be honest, even if she was a decent actress, that would be as much a possibility as Jack Duckworth managing to clean his own chimney without getting soot in Vera's bottom denture.

There was a glimmer of hope for 1987 viewers when Mike whisked Susan away to a remote farmhouse in Glossop - the ideal place to bring up a family. And the best place for Susan, away from those pesky Granada camera and acting stuff. Fear not, this dreary little tale will soon be at an end as Sue hops off back to Newcastle in her bought and paid for Austin Metro, boot rammed with man-made fibres. Bill Podmore's decision to dispense with the services of Susan Baldwin could not come a moment too soon. Sadly, we'd have to wait a few more years before she'd return one last time, complete with a head transplant and a secret son, before she'd be axed forever at the hands of Billy Gurny Gums. But, hey, I'm straying into Oates territory here so I'll stop.

The Germaine Greer of the Gazette

 

Ken Barlow was once again delivering in spades this week. Despite the fact he's endured on our screens for nigh on sixty years and that he's got a head of hair a man half his age would kill for, we are often remiss in recalling just what a big-headed, ego-centric, pompous old windbag Kenneth is. After pushing poor old Alf into heart attack territory (therefore denying Audrey her oats for the month of May) Ken shoehorned Deirdre through a dodgy demi-wave and a move to even bigger bins and into the council. Ken managed to be a proud husband for all of five minutes until Deirdre started to develop a brain away from the potato peeler and the tumble dryer and actually started to enjoy council work. 

Ken's outdated, Victorian, patriarchal attitudes led me, in a moment of madness, to label him a bell**d on Twitter this week and for that I will never apologise. Deirdre, sick of Ken's moaning, trotted off to Bournemouth with Alf Ventress from Heartbeat for a week on waste disposal. Yes Ken, your wife would rather talk turds in the conference suite of a Ramada Inn than spend time with you. Stick that in your Gazette and choke on it. 

Sally's Supermarket Sweep

 

Finally this week, I must mention dear little Sally Webster, already exhibiting signs of the social climbing snob we all know and love today. Cosy in her new job working with Alf at the mini market, Sally is a bright ray of sunshine, energetically trying to flog the aforementioned garlic croutons to Emily Bishop, spreading gossip with Audrey and moaning about Kevin's lack of get up and go. Just you wait, luvey. What I did notice though on several occasions was Sal's inability to work the till, add up and deliver her lines all at once. Now Renee Roberts might have been a bit dull and more suited to anything starring Hylda Baker (one for the teenagers there) and Maggie Clegg might have legged it to Zaire in the middle of pricing up the tinned pears but at least they could operate a till a good deal less vicious that Arkright's. It seemed that everything anyone ever bought always amounted to 38p. I guess when you've got young Kevin's be-jeaned buttocks pressed up against the dairy counter, your coordination is bound to go right out the window.

And I leave you with my pic of the week - Bet had popped in to the Corner Shop for a packet of Alec's favourite beef burgers and picked up more than she bargained for from Mavis Riley. If looks could kill...

Until next time...

I'm on Twitter @GraemeN82 if you fancy a natter.

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

 

I was overjoyed when the announcement came that ITV3 would start re-running classic episodes of Coronation Street. To begin with, I was disappointed the network wasn't going to show episodes from earlier on - I believe the mid 1970s to early 80s to be the golden age for the show - however I can now see the benefits in starting in 1986. The episodes broadcast this week are modern enough to feature a vast number of characters viewers today will still be aware of, either because they are still regularly on our screens or because their time has only recently been and gone.

Coronation Street in 1986 featured regular characters who stlll appear today - Ken, Rita, Jenny, Audrey, Gail, Sally and Kevin. The likes of Deirdre, Emily, Jack and Vera, Betty and Hilda are still very much in our consciousness too. Early '86 also began some long running stories, introducing Sally Seddon to enliven Kevin's life for many years to come and most of all, the start of the three year Alan Bradley saga. 

I have been tasked with cobbling together a blog on five things we've learned from this week in the life of Classic Coronation Street on ITV3. This last week in 1986 saw the fallout from the Rovers fire continue and for a brief moment it seemed the famous pub was doomed. Thankfully George Newton had a change of heart, taking pity on Bet when he discovered the only belongings she'd managed to salvage from the fire were her singed 'butch" wig and her burnt Orinoco Womble. Elsewhere, young Susan Baldwin still couldn't act but managed to reunite Rita and Alan over a frozen pizza. Rita certainly would come away from that little lot with a bit more than just indigestion...

Ivy Tilsley: Knicker Nicker 

Another glam night out for Edina and Patsy

Yes you read it correctly, that cheeky little minx, the Pope's own representative in Weatherfield, Ivy Tilsley was up to mischief this week. Vera Duckworth, newly certified behind the wheel, dragged Ivy and Shirley Armitage (remember her?) off out in the Nova for a night of boozing and whooping at The Pink Flamingo Club. There, a reluctant Ivy ended up dancing on the stage with a muscle-bound stripper who's pants came away with her in her sensible handbag. What would Bert have thought? Second thoughts, don't answer that.

It was refreshing to see the fun, down to earth side to Ivy. I for one only remember her pointing the finger at Gail, tutting upwards at Audrey and trying to protect young Nicky from evil little Martin Platt. Who knew the hot summer of 1986 would see her pocketing what Terry reliably informed us were "briefs". These ravishing undercrackers would cause a great deal of trouble for Jack. And no, don't worry, he doesn't model them for Phyllis Pearce.

Who knows what you'll find down the back seat in a Vauxhall Nova...

Jack and Dulcie get down to business

Just for a change, Jack and Vera were at each others' throats this week. The Vauxhall Nova saga continued on with no sign of a truce. Jack, the rogue he was, started whipping the keys out of Vee's handbag and trotting off to her garage in Viaduct Street to pop out for a spin, and he wasn't going alone, oh no! Yes, the deliciously named Dulcie Froggatt was his back seat companion. However before they could get down to it, as it were, Jack felt something strange behind him - yes none other than Ivy's briefs. Someone pass the smelling salts. 

No sooner had the briefs been found than Jack was accusing poor old Vera of exactly what he was getting up to (or down to) with the delectable Dulcie! Incidentally, I caught up with the lovely Margi Campi, who played Dulcie, earlier this year. You can read our interview here.

A Rover Returns...

Alec reacts to Terry's request for a corned beef barm

The aftermath of the Rovers fire had one positive for us viewers. That's right, we were re-introduced to the fabulously grotty Graffiti Club. This members only, less than salubrious establishment was now owned by a certain Mr Alec Gilroy, last seen over a decade earlier as Rita's money grabbing agent. Now he was back, as the club's money grabbing manager. With only crusty old pensioner Sam Tindall as a customer, and he kept his dog in a bag, Alec was in desperate need of more customers. In comes Jacko (he was busy this week) and is soon running about recruiting members as if his job depended on it. Well, actually it did, or so Jack thought. Alec promised Jack a job behind the bar if he could round up new members for his crappy club. Jack's first mistake was agreeing to do Alec's bidding. And his second was taking GIlroy at his word.

This began one of Coronation Street's golden chapters, with Roy Barraclough on barnstorming form as the wily, tight fisted, sharp tongued publican. Roy fitted in so well with the rest of the Coronation Street cast and after many years of trying, Granada finally lured him back and signed him up to a contract and I'm really glad they did. 

Jenny Bradley, teenager from hell

Morten Harket

She's always been a heavy parcel, our Jenny. True enough in 1986 she didn't resort to dangling little children off balconies, instead she just sulked and flounced about between her dingy bedsit and her paper round. Not even her 80's summer pastel fashions and A-Ha haircut are entertaining any more. Dad Alan, pre full on psychopath he'd later become, was still showing signs of being less than pleasant by two timing Gloria Todd-Corkhill with Lady Reet of the Kabin. How could Alan even think of bonking, sorry bunking down with Gloria when Rita had gone to the trouble of styling her hair as if she was about to audition for a bit part in Howard's Way?

Jenny obviously had her favourite and it was Glo. Probably because she was younger and her wardrobe of latest polyester fashions was merely a few steps across the grimy hall. When Alan plumped for Rita, Jenny, obviously having slipped Susan Kennedy like on some spilt milk, seemed to forget that fluffy Fairclough the foster mam had saved her piggin' bacon. Even Alan's suggestion of a family trip to Jersey fell on deaf ears as little Jenny stropped about like a bad smell. Not a fan of Bergerac then.

Gail Warnings

Not a warm front in sight

Ah yes, an old one but a good'un. Everyone was wondering this past week 31 years ago, just why Gail was being so sullen, so moody and so standoffish. Personally, I couldn't make out any difference from her normal radiant self. She was snapping at 12 year old Martin Platt, brushing off support from gravel-voiced Phyllis and being terse with Brian the Teeth. Obviously I'm totally fine with Gail treating Brian like dirt but there was no need for the rest of it. In one totally hilarious (not) scene Gail even had the nerve to mind having her bottom pinched in the cafe by a rather rancid looking trucker (I think that's what she called him).

Of course the real reason for Gail's mardy mare act is revealed in the cliff hanger at the end of the episode. Rather rudely cutting off Hilda in her prime and putting an end to Audrey's endless twittering (oh Sue Nicholls, please join Twitter, it would be fabulous darling), Gail comes out with it. She's got a bun in the oven and it's not back at Jim's Caff. The penny drops with Aud the back street barnet permer when she realises the baby might pop out with an Australian accent. Fortunately, it didn't. Unfortunately, this happened instead:

Definitely Brian's

   

Until next week!

Classic Coronation Street is broadcast on ITV3 every week day at 14.40 and 15.15, repeated from 6am the next day.

You can follow me on Twitter @GraemeN82

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