Even the Gods have turned against Phelan. Pat's attempt to retrieve the bodies from the lake was accompanied by some of the most apocalyptic weather I have ever seen. Rain, wind, thunder, lightning - never mind an apartment block, he should have been building an ark. Meanwhile, at the same time, in another part of Weatherfield:
A chilly night for sure, but the Street's residents were larking about outside without any sign of the tempest afflicting Pat. Sophie spent a good while sobbing on Maxine's Bench Of Contemplation without so much as getting damp. The only possible conclusion is that the universe has finally had enough of Pat Phelan's shenanigans and is using its natural resources to try and wipe him off the face of the earth. Next week: an earthquake strikes the front room of 11 Coronation Street and literally nowhere else on the planet.
There ain't no party like a Moira Pollock party. Last week I wrote that Moira's return to the Street was an utter triumph, and a number of commenters disagreed. I now realise, with the benefit of hindsight, that I was mistaken, as her appearance last week was nothing compared with her gloriously inappropriate behaviour at the Street's competing parties. She knocked back the prosecco and launched into a wonderful run-down of everything she knew about her fellow guests, thanks to the medical centre being a hotbed of gossip. ("I say the medical centre; I actually mean Elizabeth.") A quick run down of her local knowledge, together with the reactions this information elicited:
"Nudie photo shoot"
"Secret daughter"
"Mmmm... well..." (This is only a 7.5 on the Amazing Jenny Bradley Face Scale, but a solid effort)
"Addiction to plates with dogs on them"
"The one everybody hates"
After the party at Eileen's turned out to be as entertaining as the burial for a much loved family pet, they shifted across the road, interrupting Sally's candlelight supper. Sadly we were denied the opportunity to see Moira and Mayor Metcalfe go head to head, as she was too captivated by Imran's backside to do anything other than sit and stare.
(By the way Liz, don't think we can't see you staring too). Tracy Barlow declared admiringly, "You are brilliant," and I can't disagree.
Michelle Connor is indefensible. So Sally is fleeing the Street she's lived on for more than thirty years because her step-daughter is too afraid to live there any more, and has reluctantly put her house up for sale. Michelle, in her role as Glorious Queen of the Universe And Arbiter Of What Is And Isn't Acceptable, sees this as an opportunity to poke round number four and laugh at Sally's soft furnishings. What a horrible person. Carla at least had the decency to express regret at going through with Michelle's idea in the pub afterwards, and then look suitably shame-faced when found out. Also, I've seen your flat Michelle, and you're no Linda Barker. Sally would do well to remind her that she has worked her way up from a sad childhood on a rough council estate to owning a three-bedroom semi, having an adorable family, and being Mayor of Weatherfield; Michelle is living in a flat owned by her boyfriend, has two sons who can't stand the sight of her and only seems to be able to pay the bills through insurance fraud or the generosity of her ex-husband. Sally's wallpaper may not be to Saint Michelle's taste, but at least it's all hers.
The writers have been on Corriepedia. This week, Sean remembered he had a son, David remembered he had epilepsy, and Liz wondered who was cutting Jim's hair. It's always good to be reminded of people and places gone by, and should be encouraged. It wasn't perfect - the Platts seemed to have forgotten that Martin's girlfriend has been pregnant once before, and Tyrone never thought to bring up Hope's murderous father when Fiz kept banging on about Ruby's abusive mother - but it's a start.
Never borrow money from family. Jude is skint. It turns out Manchester (thirty miles from the coast) isn't the best place to be a marine biologist, meaning he was forced to borrow a hundred pounds from Mary to pay for Angie's birthday present. He clearly forgot that Sunday is Mother's Day, meaning he's going to have to borrow some more money to buy Mary some flowers and a card, and she's going to know he had to borrow the money because he was brassic only a few days before. It's a little cycle of debt that'll probably end in a really uplifting story about loan sharks in a few week's time.
If you can explain how Tyrone can claim to be thirty five years old when he only entered the show a couple of years ago as a teenager, please explain it to the author on Twitter @merseytart. Be nice though. Don't just shout "YOU'RE OLD."
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