`The secret," said Coronation Street's favourite anorak, Roy, of his relationship with Hayley, the one he loves, clumsily and touchingly, "is to know each other well." "Whilst still retaining the capacity to surprise," chimes Hayley. Well, surprise is an understatement, and last night's revelation puts in context her chitchat earlier in the week about doing woodwork and technical drawing at school rather than domestic science. Still, sex roles have always been predictable enough in soaps, so a bit of transsexualism certainly livens things up, even if it does seem a little outre in Corrie.
Now, if it had happened in gritty EastEnders, that would be another thing. Try imagining that Graunt ain't such a tough guy really, and deep down is searching for his feminine side? Or perhaps Dinny in Glenroe really wants to "limp with the other foot" - it might explain all those trips to Spain, having operations that might turn him forever into Senora Byrne.
Roy (David Neilson) is quite a rich and complex character and has developed a lot from the antisocial, gauche geek of his first appearances, and Hayley (Julie Hesmondhalgh) did indeed seem like a match made in heaven for him, so maybe he'll get over the shock and take it in his stride, and maybe to more than comic effect. Far from being mentally retarded, as fish-face Gail unforgivably called him recently, Roy is probably the most intelligent character on the street (Weatherfield's "elder", Ken, is, after all, really just a well-spoken bore who has conversational French and likes wine). All that's missing with Roy is an ounce of social skills - and it should be interesting tomorrow watching him trying to deal with what must initially seem like an insurmountable blow to future happiness for these two lonely and fascinating people.
There have been hints in some of their conversations, like their declarations of innocence - "I've not done a lot of that . . . living I mean," said Roy, as Hayley insisted: "There are a lot of things you don't know about me. In some ways you don't know me at all." Earlier, over a private lunch in the caffy, the love birds were continually interrupted, by a harassed Curly wanting information on ecology (probably one of Roy's Mastermind subjects) plus a full breakfast including fried bread, and Fred looking for "an 'am bap - with a dash of moo-tard".
Fred has been excelling himself recently. It's as though he is taking his character to the limits, following his Late Late Show appearance a few weeks ago, where he belied the bluff, butch Weatherfield butcher with the real John Savident - a posh-spoken, luvvie full of wonderful stories about his dear, dear friends that all finished with "bless him".
The plotline of Are Nick and Leanne moving in with Ashley and Zoe, the nasty child-mother, could have been written purely for comic effect for Uncle Fred - just so he could give advice about "the vagaries of feminine wiles in the real world" to Ashley, who he imagined was in a "menagerie a trois" with Leanne and Zoe. And so we were treated to Fred recalling an unimaginable youth - as Elvis. "There were some that compared me with a young Elvis Presley. And I'll tell you this, if he'd have been alive today there are still some people who say that this (and he pats his belly) is what Elvis would have looked like."
Ashley's response was underplayed. "Well, I can see that really." But later Fred startles Ashley, and us, with his version of Blue Suede Shoes, backing out the door hopping, teeth protruding. A deliciously surreal spectre.
You want to shake Ashley for putting up with Zoe, but you also want to shake Lorainne in Fair City for being so taken in by the mad doctor and his manipulations. She is behaving like a pathetic puppy, simpering and slavering, trying to please. Mind you, she has the gumption to recognise some of his neurotic behaviour - "there's his clean shirts and his quiet time to unwind". The younger characters are, for the most part, written credibly in Fair City, even if, sometimes, situations are worked on and built up only to be dropped mysteriously.
The latest yoof element in Carrigstown is the house of students. Eunice seems fascinated with what they buy in the local shop - anyone who likes stale bread and buys four dozen candles and some brillo pads must be odd - and is clearly wide open to suggestions of witchcraft, despite a charm-initiative by the art student who "does a Mary McAleese" on Eunice - "building a few bridges" after a drunken night of high jinx offended her. Eunice may be a bit daft, but women in soaps (sappy Lorainne aside) tend to be self-possessed and strong enough to have no need to look for the man inside - Soapland has ever been the repository of strong females and weak males (whichever category you would slot Hayley into). So we know gorgeous and strong-minded hairdresser Fiona in Corrie will eventually cope just fine alone with her new baby, following post-natal depression and self-doubt - "we had no hormones in my day" her mother told her - if she can steer clear of the weak-minded Steve (now he'd make a grand wee girl).
Brookside's Jackie Dixon is another strong woman with a baby on the way (her condition seems to have changed the colour of her hair yet again - maybe it's a side-effect of surrogacy). She's no quiche-eater either - her friend Katie referred to her as Robowoman - but her dad Ron has been feeling ever so sorry for himself recently, watching his mate "Bing" Crosby "like a lovesick bloodhound" over a woman, and coveting the car of his neighbour, Muttering Mick: "There's me going cap in hand to the social and there's the likes of him - tops his mother-in-law and walks away scot free and finishes up driving around in a top-of-the-range motor. Don't tell me that's fair." Meanwhile the question with Sandy's baby in Fair City is - who's the daddy - her husband, the heel Leo, or his son, Dean? We may have to wait till the child is talking to decide which of their accents its speech most resembles.
Each of the men of God in a frowned-upon relationship with a woman has behaved weakly and indecisively - after Fair City ran with a controversial ball, with Father Malachy acknowledging his feelings for publican Kay, he lost his bottle and did a runner. Why has the storyline dribbled out? Alex, the EastEnders's vicar who never smiles, has only this week found the courage of his convictions and stood up to Kaff from the Kaff's soon-to-be-ex, the chubby, tough lad Phil, who breathed threateningly at him. Alex even smiled once during the episode, I think. Maybe he's a real man after all.
