Tag Archives: Emily Bishop

Corrie Street Jan. 17/16

Silver-Topped Che

Emily Bishop left for Peru. Monday she announced her plan to go see her nephew Geoffrey, aka Spyder, who is working in an orphanage emily bishop looks at streetthere. Thursday we said hasta luego to her.

When she first mentioned Spyder, and that she hadn’t heard from him in such a long time, I thought maybe he was coming back. Wouldn’t that be wonderful! Then it entered my mind – maybe he wasn’t coming back, maybe she would go see him. And so it came to pass.

Billy encouraged her to go. Rita told her to seize the moment, do what ken-rita-and-emilyyou want to do while you still can. Norris told her and anyone who would listen that she was insane to leave her home and a lifestyle befitting her age and abilities. A “silver-topped Che Guevera in wide-fitting shoes,” he scoffed. She told him that she would like his blessing but was going with or without it.

New Year’s night in Weatherfield, she was in front of her house all-outside taxi saying-goodbye-to-emily bishopawaiting her taxi. Ken was there to see her off. Tracy, her goddaughter, was not. Big surprise. Rita was there. Billy and Anna were there. Mary came with the gift of a diary and many pens so she could record her activities and moods with different coloured inks.

At the last moment, Norris rushed up carrying a bag. “Pencils,” he emily-holds-pencils norris is giving hersaid, “300 pencils.” He had been emailing with Spyder who told him that’s what would be most useful that Emily could bring. Norris included writing pads as well. I’d been doing well up to that point, but then I couldn’t help but cry.

ken-sad-he-is-missing-emily-leaving as nessa looks at phoneAnd Nessa ran to the group, arms full of Freshco bags and plans for dinner and phone calls about something her son was up to and impatience at Emily not being gone yet. “She’s making a meal of it!” Ken looked at her with disgust.

emily-smiles-goodbyeNessa flapping distracted him during those precious moments with his friend of 55 years. But Ken got rid of her in time to rejoin the others in saying goodbye.

There was one more poignant scene after Emily’s departure. Norris norris in dining room picks up remotealone at their dining room table, Emily and Ernest Bishop’s wedding photo behind him. He turns the television on and flicks through channels, trying to put some life in the house. He turns it off, and scrapes his uneaten dinner into the bin.

Corrie Street Feb. 2/14

Strawberry Jam Forever

When the vanload of strawberries for Hayley arrived, all I could think of was olives – cases and cases arriving at the Bistro. A continuing joke, with olives popping up hayley-first-strawberrieseverywhere there was a Platt. Please, oh please, this can’t happen with the strawberries. The out-of-season berries are the only food Hayley has been able to eat. But they are unavailable. Possibly Hayley’s appetite for them has gone as well. But finding strawberries becomes a mission, a way of doing something for Hayley. For her friends and Roy, it’s a way to take action and thereby maybe stave off her death.

But I feared her seeing those piled-up crates of strawberries, filling up the café. What would that do to her? Knowing the effort, time and money they had spent to show her they care. How can she strawberries in cafereciprocate other than by eating her way through them? She saw them: I expected to see her throw up.

How is this going to end? Are we going to have flats of strawberries appearing at Hayley’s funeral? Will a moldy, rotting pint of berries appear on a café windowsill weeks from now? Please make them go away! But don’t let them be wasted. That alone would kill Hayley, watching good food go to waste. Take them to the soup kitchen! Where’s helpful-Hannah Sophie when you need her?

make-a-suggestionAnd there’s Emily Bishop. She sees lights on in the kitchen and comes to the door. It’s a strawberry party.  Smoothies, daiquiris – anything and everything in which strawberries can be used. She suggests jam. Of course, and what a wonderful idea. So Mrs. Bishop oversees Fiz, Jenna, Kirk, Roy, Carla and whoever else is there in a production line of boiling and bottling. Mary comes in with jars, her mother’s prize-winning preserves recipe and a whole lot of attitude. Emily makes room for her at the stove. She also tries to keep Carla occupied so her culinary ineptitude doesn’t endanger the actual cooking.strawberry jam jars filling

They had a great time. Hayley came down to see what the noise was about. Her doing so covered the bases, addressed my concerns. She saw her friends having fun and doing something useful – all due to their love for her. Mary turned it into a competition, of course, and asked Hayley to judge the winner between jam and preserves. I recall her doing this before, taste-testasking Hayley to choose in a cook-off that Mary spontaneously created. This time, as in the past, Hayley declared it a tie. Still, it’s a refreshing indicator of Mary’s acceptance of the vagaries of life (and maybe her self-absorption) to not let the spectre of death stop her from putting someone on the spot. Hayley probably appreciated being treated normally.

cute-little-jarsThe strawberry jam is a testament of love for Hayley and it will remain, an edible memorial to her.

Coronation Street Scene of the Week (Oct. 2/11)

Agatha Christie?

Despite the sight of Tracy Barlow lying bloodied on the ground by the Barlows’ back door, the Emily and Tracy on streetscene this week for me was Emily Bishop telling Tracy just what she thought of her.

Mrs. Bishop said, I think, what we’d all like to say to Tracy only she was more polite about it.  “I’ve known you since the day you were born and I’ve never been more ashamed of you in my life.”  The implication was not lost on me that Emily has had plenty of reason before to be ashamed of our Tracy.  As everyone has.  Especially Ken and Deirdre.  What can Deirdre being thinking to continue supporting and justifying that girl?  A mother’s love, yes, but a mother’s blinders?

Carolling on streetTracy arrived back Christmas Eve, and what an entrance!  A lovely carol sing on the street, snow lightly falling.  Ken reading a poem (especially commissioned for the episode, I read, from the poet laureate Carol Ann Duffy).

Tracy Barlow is back in town!

Then into this Currier & Ives scene, a black Tracy putting one foot out of taxitaxi pulls up.  High heeled shoes and fishnet stockings get out of it.  Who is it?  The wicked witch.  Tracy Barlow. “Oh no, not her!” I groaned aloud.  A miscarriage of justice, she said about her murder conviction, tainted testimony.  The only person glad to see her back was Deirdre, and I suppose Ken.

Tracy Barlow back on streetThen a week of Tracy offending, alienating and implicating her way through neighbours, friends and family.  You quickly realized an Agatha Christie worthy murder mystery was being set up.  Everyone was going to be in the suspect line.  Words that could be taken as death threats were uttered by many.  Death wishing looks were cast Tracy’s way by even more people.

The suspects

She slept with both Platt boys, back to back.  That alone would guarantee three murder suspects – David, Nick and their momma.

But the line doesn’t stop there.  And, after swanning around the Rovers on New Years’ Eve, she added Sean and Mary to the list of people seriously annoyed at her.  And I wouldn’t trust Mary too far.  Tracy doesn’t know it, but she maybe is more deranged than Tracy herself.

Ken Rosie Claire Sunita Dev watching Tracy's arrivalEven before Friday’s double episode, we were wondering if Tracy’s murder would be a group effort by everyone on the street, as in Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express.  And, lo and behold, on Friday, Deirdre and Ken mentioned that book, one of many literary allusions on the Street this week.

Tracy on ground and bloody hands over herSo who dun it?  Steve was caught red-handed (literally) over Tracy’s unconscious body.  But she was still alive.  “Oh no,” I groaned yet again when she was shown in hospital.

The only saving grace to Tracy is sometimes she says things to people that, while cruel, are so apt that you only wish that you could say something like that yourself to people who really do deserve it.  But you can’t because you’re not as horrible a person as she is.