Erinsborough loses or changes to create "good friends" (10)

Previouslys: Elle, Dylan and Kerry in the carpark; Harold, Loris, Steiger and Janelle in the hospital; Dylan, Sky and Kerry in Sky's hospital room.

Um. This is kind of embarrassing. I completely forgot to recap a scene in my last entry. And now it has turned up in the previouslys, so it was obviously more important than I gave it credit for . It was the penultimate scene from the episode. I'd better do it now:

(Hospital. Harold, Loris, Steiger, Janelle. Everyone is ebullient, celebrating the safe return of little Kerry. They crack open some champagne and share it around. Harold doesn't want any. He's only got one kidney, and, further, he's worried that drinking it will turn him evil again, so he tips the contents away and then pretends to toast. Then, bizarrely, he also tosses the glass away. No one notices, or, at least, no one remarks upon his eccentricity. Steiger refuses a glass, because he's on duty. He asserts that it's very rare for a case like this to end happily. Especially when he's the officer assigned to it. There is much merriment and talk of enjoying the moment. Harold works himself into a frenzy, then seizes Loris and kisses her. Janelle shrugs and pounces upon Steiger. I really, really hope that they don't end up getting together.)

Sorry about that.

My note-taking is complicated by the extraordinary number of characters whose names begin "St." For the most part, I can just note down initial letters (P fo Paul, E for Elle) but when there's a couple of STs around I have to go to three letters. When Stingray talks to Steph they have to be 'Ste' and 'Sti'. My nightmare scenario involves Steph talking to Steiger. *Shudders*.

Hospital. Sky, Dylan, Kerry. Incidentally, the actor playing Kerry is called Claudine Henningson. This scene seems to follow on directly from the previous episode. "So," says Sky, "you look at her [Kerry] for the first time and instinctively know she's yours?" "Call it a gut feeling," says Dylan. Ha, ha. That's a double entendre - he's just told Sky how to massage Kerry to relieve her wind. Geddit? Gut feeling? Hey? hey? ... oh forget it. It's not that funny. I'm feeling a little restive this episode. I might go and get myself a biscuit. "Just like knowing how she likes to be burped?" adds Sky suspiciously. I think she's put two and two together. Good. This is what I like to see - the brisk, purposeful advancement of plot. She has twigged, because her next line is: "Dylan, you stole my baby!" "No," says Dylan pedantically, "I stole my baby. And 'stole' isn't the word for it." Nitpicking - the last refuge of the terminally guilty. Sky isn't interested in semantics: "I don't care! She could've died! She was premature. She was just a few minutes old ..." "She shouldn't have been where she was," protests Dylan. "I can understand you hating me, but this is a new one!" says Sky. "This isn't about you ..." says Dylan. "Then what is it about? What sort of excuse could you possibly have for putting me through three days of hell?"

Scarlet Bar. Steph, Stingray. I couldn't find any biscuits, so I've got a banana instead. I'm surprised to see Stingray in the Scarlet Bar. I'm not sure whether he's still working there or not. I thought that he must have quit. It's pretty crowded and there's a big cardboard cut-out of a horse on the counter. Streamers and murmuring extras abound. "What, mate, really? Today of all days?" says Steph. The backing track and all the noise the extras are making means that it's difficult to hear what people are saying. "Yeah, I know," says Stingray apologetically, "Melbourne Cup." "Yeah. Melbourne Cup," Steph says sternly. "I'm sorry," croaks Stingray. "Come on! Does it have to be today? This place is going to be nuts!" Steph wheedles, but Stingray is intractable: "I just can't handle being around alcohol at the moment." Enter Toadie. He's wheeling something, but I can't see what it is. "Um ..." he says to his cousin, "should you be here?" "I'm just leaving," Stingray assures him. He's as good as his word. The camera pans around as he walks out revealing Will, who's been hiding behind the cardboard horse this whole time. One of the people I thought was just another extra turns around. It's Elle wearing a hat. "Why aren't you wearing a hat, Mrs Hoyland?" she asks. She saw your hat, Elle, and she thought that it made you look really stupid.

I don't know why I'm insulting Elle's hat. It's not that bad. This is shaping up to be one of those awful 'filler' episodes - all aimless denouement and no trousers. I've got a feeling that the Melbourne Cup will prove to be today's Macguffin, while we wait around for Kerry's paternity to be decided. "[wearing a hat is] not really my thing," Steph says and that ought to be excuse enough, but for some reason she feels to compelled to offer a string of woes by way of an apologia for her millinery gaffe: "Plus I've got too much to worry about with this place at the moment. Stingray's just quit, and this place is going to be packed in ten minutes and I can't even get this stupid television to work." Wearing a hat wouldn't make any of that more or less difficult, Steph. Vis a vis the television: Fear not, gentle reader! it transpires that Will knows how to press the 'on' button on the remote control. What a hero! Steph used to be a mechanic, so I don't think that technology would hold any terrors for her, and she wouldn't let a television remote push her around. "Thanks," gushes Steph, "how did you do that?" She laughs. "Some of us have it and some of us don't," says Will indistinctly. He looks a bit spaced out in this scene - he's open mouthed and wide eyed and doesn't really seem to know how he came to be there. He ducks down behind the bar for no readily apparent reason. I rewind the scene. "Some of us have it and some of us don't!" says Will indistinctly. I hold my banana like it's a gun and point it at the screen. "HIT THE DECK!" I yell at Will menacingly. He ducks down the bar. Heh. I make my own fun.

The camera angle shifts slightly. Ahh! I can see now that Toadie was wheeling a pushchair. No evidence that there's a baby in it though. "Did you get him down?" asks Steph. "Yeah, finally," says Toadie. If it was such an effort to get Charlie to sleep, then why have you brought him into the Scarlet Bar, Toadie. You idiot. "This little dude is dancing to his own tune," observes Toadie of Charlie. Whatever that means. Toadie doesn't look very well. He's lost quite a lot of weight. I hope he's eating well, and isn't on one of those stupid crash diets. Steph goes temporarily insane. "Agh! What's going on with you Charlie? Charliecharliecharliech!" she says. Elle is a little taken aback: "You know," she says, "you look like you could use some sleep. Why don't you go home?" "What? And leave this one [Will] alone here by himself?" Steph doesn't think much of Will and neither do I. He rises up again from behind the bar. He's wearing a t-shirt with a man boxing a lion on it. Elle is desperate for Steph to get some rest. She's obviously still feeling guilty for sending her husband mad and making him run away: "Well, maybe I could stay and help. It's not like I had anything else planned." Steph looks pleased at the suggestion. Elle bounces enthusiastically around the bar, and stands behind it. "Just a client luncheon in the ballroom," she adds, "kind of boring." Will's t-shirt is captioned "MIGHTY THOR". "Well ... if you're sure ..." says Steph. Elle is so sure that she takes her hat off. "Well alright ... any problems ..." garbles Steph. I'm still having trouble hearing dialogue over the general hubbub. "Your number's first on the list," says Will a trifle too hurriedly. Why does he want Steph gone so badly? Anxious for a little alone time with Elle methinks. I knew he wouldn't stick with the disfigured Carmella. Steph makes tracks. "How hard can it be?" asks Will nonchalantly and he's angered the Irony Fairy because we segue to a shot of all the extras crowded around the bar and clamouring for drinks.

They're all shouting out their orders at the same time, which is something that doesn't happen in real life and they're all standing a metre or so from the bar, so that they're all in shot. An attractive woman near front and centre wants a white wine and she wants it pretty badly by the look of her. Seriously, she's playing the role of "woman who wants a white wine" as if it were Medea. There's a man who wants a beer, but he could, well, take it or leave it, he's not bothered and the others all seem to want rhubarb, rhubarb, rhubarb. Compared to the Woman who Wants White Wine, they're all rather lacklustre. Come on people! Put some effort in! Let's inject a bit of energy into this overlong and ailing scene! I suppose it's a bit much to ask of the extras. It's Will's, Elle's and the script's fault that this scene feels so turgid and superfluous. "Why don't you make a Margarita?" asks Elle crossly. Wow. Exotic - someone's deviating from the male-beer, female-white-wine paradigm. "I am!" comes Will's plaintive reply. "So why don't you use a [something or other - possibly 'gin']." I couldn't really make sense of that line. Do you use gin to make a Margarita? Actually, I don't care. "I haven't got some," says Will. I think. But it's almost impossible to hear. "OK - shufty shuft," says Elle meaningfully, "if there's anything I know, it's cocktails. Margarita coming up and a Long Island Iced Tea." I didn't even know that the Scarlet Bar did cocktails. Will produces two beers out of nowhere and we cut to the

Hospital. Sky, Dylan, Kerry. Aw. Little Kerry looks REALLY tired. I'd forgotten about this storyline in all the heady excitement of the Melbourne Cup. Dylan is setting the record straight with regard to his part in the baby-abduction saga: "I saw Scottie first ... Passed out. There's no surprises there. But I heard her crying. She was just tucked up in his arms, helpless. So I picked her up. And the minute I held her, I knew she was mine." I already knew that. How many times do we need to hear this story? This episode really is just marking time. The scene could have opened with Sky saying "So it was Stingray who took her! But that doesn't change the fact that he's Kerry's father, Dyl." And then Dylan could say "I know she's mine. I know it." Sky could look thoughtful and then the scene could end then and there. But we've got to fill twenty minutes. Hence, the endless exposition and recapping. Sky says "Except she's not [your baby]. She's Stingray's." Dylan scoffs. He's always scoffing and sneering. "Yeah. And where is he now?" Proximity to the baby doesn't alter heredity, Dylan.

"Don't you dare unload this on [Stingray]!" says a furious Sky. "I thought my baby was dead. They were dragging a lake." Really? I wondered what was going on with Sky and the baby during the forty-eight hours when we were catching up with the other characters' fascinating storylines. "Yeah," says Dylan, "I was the one who saved her!" "Then why didn't you bring her back?" snaps Sky. "Because she deserves something more out of life. More than what you and my alcoholic brother could offer her," says Dylan haughtily. Sky is coldly angry: "Huh. Is that right?" Dylan carries on, blithe, oblivious: "I'm sorry that I worried you - I didn't think that part through, but you can't tell me I'm wrong about Scott." "Dylan," says Sky, "having a problem with alcohol isn't against the law, but kidnapping is." "Ha! Not if she's mine!" scoffs Dylan. "She's not yours," insists Sky. Dylan invites her to call the cops: "The worst they'll do is lock me up." Actually, I think what would happen is that Steiger would turn up, listen to Sky's story and then say "No, you're wrong. This was a random act by a random criminal. I already decided there was nothing for me to do and removed my Specs of Suspicion. The case is closed." "But ..." Sky would say. "The case is closed," Steiger would repeat more firmly and then he'd stride purposefully out of the room to fail dismally at the rest of his police work. Sky thinks that Dylan deserves to be locked up. "Yeah, maybe," conceeds Dylan, "but it'll be tough on Kerry knowing her father's in jail and her Mum put him there. Not a good way to grow up."

General Store. Harold, Loris, Janelle and - oh no! - Lyn. "She just appeared on the doorstep!" chuckles a clearly delighted Harold. I guess he's telling Lyn, because the others were all there with him at the time. Janelle beams idiotically. "Aw! That's so wonderful! I can't wait to have my very first cuddle!" says Lyn menacingly. You stay away from that baby, Lyn, you harpy, or so help me I'll beat you to death with a copy of Stanislavsky's An Actor Prepares wrapped around a brick.

Every good story needs a villain, and Lyn Scully is the villain here. I am, of course, the hero. Doggedly watching Neighbours so you don't have to. "You'll have to join the queue for [cuddling Kerry] I'm afraid." A look of consternation passes across Lyn's face. She fumbles nervously in her handbag. "Oh, speaking of queues," she nonsequitors, "I've got to get to the T.A.B!" She'd rather be watching the horse-racing - in which she has never before shown any interest whatsoever - than sharing in the joy and good fortune of her friends. Shame on you, Lyn Scully. Shame on you. "I didn't know you were a gambling woman," says Harold, a little concerned. He's thinking of Rosie, his former squeeze who became addicted to gambling and then stole all of his stuff. "Harold," chirrips Lyn as if Harold was a particularly stupid child, "it's Cup Day!" Yeah, Harold, get with the programme. The Melbourne Cup is today's Macguffin. It's like that time Shane Warne came on the show to promote his children's charity and, suddenly, everyone, including Mishka, was fascinated by Australian cricket and was a slavering fan of the Sheikh of Tweak. And then you all forgot about it. It's the latest fad, don't you know? Lyn leaves, but her jarring, nasally delivery is still ringing in my ears.

Loris asks Harold if he is going to have a flutter. "Well, I can think of one old nag he fancies," Janelle says cheekily. She means that Harold is interested in Loris herself. Loris parries: "At least he wasn't throwing himself at police constables!" "He's a senior sergeant," says Janelle unashamedly. "Anyway, I'll catch you two lovebirds later." She winks and leaves. Loris tells Harold to pay no attention to her. "But you didn't mind did you?" He means about his kissing her. "It was a moment of unbridled joy," shrugs Loris. Harold makes that rumbly, half-laugh, half-growl that makes his many chins wobble uncontrollably. "Oh ree! ... As they say there's more where that came from." He's insinuating madly. Loris guffaws. As Neighbours has insisted time and again - sexually active old people are really, really, really funny. I suppose that since Harold's sex-life doesn't have the prurient-titillation value of the sex-lives of the House of Hotties newbies, nor can it realistically further the plot with unwanted pregnancy nor with infertility, its only purpose can be to amuse us with its absurdities. And that's rather sad. Harold reins himself in. "I'm sorry, no ..." he says, looking distraught, "I've been living with Lou too long. It's beginning to rub off." Pffft! Trying. To. Resist. Obscene. Pun. Loris takes pity on Harold: "I know you're not that sort of person." Harold seizes the life-ring she's thrown him: "It's a wonder to me that you know me at all." Loris wonders what he means. "Well," he explains, "with all the drama that's been going on, we haven't had a chance to sit down and get to know each other properly and I'd like to do that." Artfully done, Harold. I'm impressed. So is Loris: "That makes two of us. Why don't we take it back to square one? Two strangers meet for the very last time." Bizarrely, for the last part of that line she was doing an impression of Mishka. Harold chuckles manfully.

Scarlet Bar. Will and Elle. Will is surprised that Elle looks at home behind the bar, because she's Paul Robinson's daughter. He quizzes her. Elle tells him that she's "into survival." She was raised by a single-parent so she's known privation. "There must be some expectation that you'll eventually run the show," says Will, the dollar-signs alight in his eyes. He's looking to marry into money. "Yeah," says Elle, "I can't wait." "So, you're into the power trip?" Will asks. The dialogue's still really difficult to distinguish from the rambunctious background noise of the extras. "If I had the choice," says Elle, "I'd choose financial [something or other]." "So," persists Will, "you're saying that you can't be poor and happy?" I'm losing the will to live. Is this scene going anywhere? Elle turns the question back onto Will: "Well, what would you choose?" "I haven't given it much thought," says Will blandly. Wow. Rosetta was right. He has so much SUBSTANCE AND DEPTH. "Wah wha the questions," says Elle. "Could be a sticky fibbet," opines Will. Enter Dylan. Thank goodness. Maybe they'll shut up now. Elle rushes over to talk to Dylan. "Sky knows," Dylan tells her. Sigh. He's recapping again. "How else could I tell her that Kerry was mine without telling her how I knew?" "But you don't know," says Elle sensibly. "I do," Dylan avers, "I know in [my chest]." That's not where the organ of reason and rationality resides, Dylan. "Maybe this is a way of punishing [Sky]," suggests Elle. On this point Dylan is vehement: "No! If I wanted to get back at Sky, I'd have done something else." "What," says Elle quietly, "like get back with me?" Yep, Elle, that is precisely the sort of thing that he would have done. "No!" lies Dylan. "Don't start ... that baby is mine!" He's starting to sound like a broken record. "I'll do whatever it takes to make sure that everyone knows." Must you, Dylan? Is that going to consist of you constantly repeating the phrase "that baby is mine" like a mantra? It's going to be very wearing. "Are you going to stick by me or not?" he demands of Elle.

Hospital. Sky and Kerry. Sky looks puzzled. Enter Dylan. "She OK?" he asks. "I just fed her," affirms Sky. Dylan rushes to pat Kerry. "Er ... Dyl," says Sky, "I'd prefer if you didn't ..." Dylan retreats. "I'm not going to call the police," Sky assures him. He looks pleased - but, wait, there's a proviso: "As long as you stop saying you're Kerry's father." Obviously, she's fed up with it too. Both Sky and I look at Dylan expectantly. He looks conflicted and then says: "I'm sorry, I can't do that." Damn. Sky tells him that she and Stingray have enough to deal with, without him making it harder for them. "If there's the slightest chance that I'm Kerry's father, wouldn't you want to know?" counters Dylan. "Well, there isn't," says Sky but she doesn't sound convinced. "You believe in motherly instincts, right?" asks Dylan shrewdly. Oh, here we go. More hocus pocus. If Dylan does prove to be the father, he'll be insufferable because it will have validated his spurious notions of a preternatural bond between parent and child. "Yeah [she believes]..." says Sky cautiously. "Well, it works for fathers as well. I know she's mine because I can feel it," Dylan says animatedly. The backing music sounds a little like The Twilight Zone theme. "And I want a DNA test to prove it." So he still has some faith in science over emotional intuition.

Hoyland residence. Toadie, Steph, Lyn, Charlie. Toadie's been briefed about what he's supposed to be interested in today. "That's the last tip I get off Karl," he says. I suppose he didn't necessarily bet on the geegees. He may have laid a wager on Stingray being the father of Sky's baby. "Tired?" Lyn asks Steph. She is. "How's Rowdy Rodney, here?" asks Toadie rhetorically. He's talking about Charlie and not any of the dubious "Rowdy Rodneys" who rear their ugly heads when you type the words into Google. Lyn is mortified. "Ah no, I thought he was sleeping through!" That was a classic example of her pompous overacting and whining, screeching delivery of a line with little or no regard for realistic patterns of speech. Steph tells her nightmarish mother that Charlie had been sleeping through the night until a few nights ago. She posits that the baby is missing Max. "Well," says Lyn knowingly, "babies do tend to know when all is not well with the world." In the whole history of the world, there has always been something "not right" with it. According to Lyn's hypothesis, this means that our poor babies must be constantly on edge. And you thought they were just teething, or suffering with wind, or in need of changing.

She expands upon her oracular knowledge of babies by saying in a bloodcurdlingly awful baby-voice. "But they just need a cuddle, don't they? even at 3AM they do." The interfering old hag is irritating Toadie almost as much as she is me. "Sometimes that's not such a good thing," he says testily. You tell her, Toadie. Lyn senses an assault on her authority: "Thank you, Dr Spock," she says with what is supposed to be withering sarcasm. I guess she's undermining Toadie's argument by pointing out that he's not got as much childcare experience as she has. He doesn't have as much shoplifting experience either, but she's not going to mention that. Her superiority is a little unfair, because it's not Toadie's fault that he didn't settle down and have a family. His wife - the love of his life - died on his wedding day. Well, technically, it is his fault that he's alone, since he was the one who drove her very slowly into the sea, but that doesn't mean that he's not entitled to an opinion on the intricacies of childrearing. Lyn tells Steph to go and sleep and she'll look after Charlie. Everyone seems to want Steph to sleep today. If I were her, I'd be starting to develop a complex. Toadie insists that he can take care of Charlie. Victory is his - Lyn's got no reason to hang around any more. "Oh, that's OK," she says, her evil plan thwarted. "And I'll see you later my handsome young man." "Lyn, PLEASE!" cries Toadie, exasperated. I wasn't so polite, hurling a string of expletives at the screen. Lyn leaves huffily. When she gets outside, a house lands on her and the Munchkins dance around singing a celebratory song featuring the ringing of bells conjoined with a joyous broadcast of her expeditious removal from this world. When their helium-enhanced voices have died down, Toadie suggests to Steph that she try something called "controlled crying" whereby, Charlie is taught that he cannot summon his slaves at will, by bawling. Sounds like a reasonable idea. Steph is a little reluctant.

Scarlet Bar. Elle. This episode's taking me much longer to watch than normal. My attention keeps wandering. Lyn glides in and the ambient temperature of the Scarlet Bar drops a degree or two. I guess the Munchkins were precipitant in their festivities. "So," she asks Elle, "how'd it go?" "It has been an absolute madhouse," Elle replies. She's been run off her feet and didn't exactly wear appropriate shoes. "I'll bet," says Lyn. She's always disapproved of Elle's choice of footwear. "I just wanted to see if you're coming home for dinner," Lyn says. Surely her presence in the Scarlet Bar can't be that inocuous. She always has an ulterior motive for everything she does. And it's usually evil. "Oh that sounds, lovely," says Elle and, to her credit, she sounds quite genuine. "I'm just going to have a quick drink with Will that's all." Lyn looks a little put-out. She has no right to be, her invitation is very last minute. "Right," she says and then adds with seeming-innocence: "No big date with Dylan, then?" And there it is. She's there to spy on Elle, and see if there's any gossip to be had or moralistic pontificating to be done.
BUTT OUT, LYN. IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.
Elle makes the mistake of dignifying her with a response rather than throwing a bucket of water over her in the hope of melting her. She and Dylan have "struck a few complications." "Ah," says Lyn, "I don't want to interfere." Then don't. If she really doesn't want to interfere, then she is incapable of stopping herself. It must be an involuntary compulsion because she goes onto say: "Do you really think you're doing the right thing, with Dylan I mean?"
SHUT UP, SHUT UP YOU INSIDIOUS MONSTER!
Elle confounds Ramsay Street's hypocritical, judgemental juggernaut by saying: "Lyn, you of all people should know that you don't choose love, love chooses you." Lyn looks struck. Elle's referring to the fact that Lyn fell for her father, who is the face of all evil in Erinsborough. Everyone in the series seems to be of the opinion that Paul Robinson is the most evil person in the relationship, but at least he is unambiguous in his wrongdoing. Lyn's subtler, unctuous, sanctimonious evil is much harder to deal with. Although she's not a murderer (as Paul is) she did accuse her own daughter of murdering her [Lyn's] ailing father and even went so far as to testify against her, securing a conviction. She's a nasty, poisonous piece of work.

We pan across to Harold and Loris, who are pretending that they have only just met. Harold presents Loris with a single red rose. Enter Janelle. "Is that the best you can do?" she asks. "One lousy rose?" Loris is less than pleased to see her: "Do you mind??" Janelle proffers her an envelope and suggests that Loris might want it. Couldn't the post have waited until she got home? It doesn't seem likely that Janelle would have deliberately sabotaged Loris's date just to deliver her mail. "It's serious." How serious could it possibly be, that it couldn't wait a couple of hours? It's outside of business hours anyway, since they're having dinner. The letter informs Loris that she is being sued for divorce and that her husband wants to remarry.

Hoyland residence. Karl, Toadie and Steph. I'm surprised to see Karl this late into the episode. Usually, if the programme-makers are paying for an actor to be there, then they milk him or her for all they're worth. Karl is being an irritating know-it-all about the Controlled Crying Technique. It should only take one or two nights ... blah, blah, blah ... controversial ... blah, blah, blah. Some people might say it "will harm the baby for life." He explains the technique, which he believes will do no long-term harm. If the baby cries, then wait five minutes before seeing to him. Then incrementally, increase the gap between caterwauling and remedy. That way the baby will learn that he's not the boss of you. It really isn't rocket science, and didn't need Karl to make such a big deal of it. He does love to be all knowing and doctorly though. Karl is needed at the hospital. He leaves. Charlie cries somewhere off set. Steph goes to comfort him and Toadie prevents her. Charlie continues to cry as we segue to

Kerry crying. Neat. I suppose. Hospital. Sky, Kerry. Enter Karl. "Is there any chance there's been some sort of a mistake?" Sky wonders. "Dylan was in here earlier and he's got this crazy notion that Kerry is his." "Well," says Karl, looking a little rattled, "the timing would suggest otherwise." But Kerry was premature! "I can't be 100% certain that Stingray is the father." Oh, Karl. That isn't what Sky wanted to hear. He was such a pious prig when Sky wouldn't tell Dylan and Stingray what was going on. He even roped Susan (contrary to his hippocratic oath - people don't just 'guess' what passes within the sanctity of doctor-patient privilege)into administering the self-righteous guilt trip. Sky would have done better to listen to Izzy when they were both in that dumpster. Karl tells Sky that Kerry's birthweight was "well below average." Which is quite usual for a first child even at fullterm. He'll have to do better than that. It gets worse for him when he admits that Kerry is much more well-developed than he would have expected. But "there was always some confusion over the dates," he weasels. Yes there was, Karl. And that confusion and fug was created by you and you alone. Sky concurs with my assessment: "Confusion? You seemed pretty certain at the time." Enter Stingray, and Karl takes the opportunity to flee. He looks troubled and well he should. I hope he can't sleep tonight and has to take some of his magic potion which makes all women look and sound like Susan to him, and doesn't affect his ability to perform sexually.

Scarlet Bar. Harold and Loris are talking. Loris tells him all about her ex and her marriage and then turns the spotlight on Harold's past. He does have a lot of past - more than a lesser man could accrue in ten lifetimes. He tells her about Madge. Loris is under the impression, that they got divorced, and Harold is reluctant to set her straight. He tells her that Madge was perfect: "Warm, funny, wonderful company." Then what went wrong, enquires Loris, "did she have an affair?" Oops. Use your noggin Loris. Harold just says bluntly: "She died." Loris is understandably extremely distressed and apologetic, but Harold waves her discomfort away, forgiving her "honest mistake". His magnanimity doesn't assuage Loris's feeling of stupidity.

Hospital. Sky and Stingray. Sky breaks the news of his involvement in Kerry's kidnapping to Stingray, thereby ensuring that we get to hear the story yet again. Yipee! Stingray is horrified to have his worst fears confirmed. Sky then really sticks the boot in by speculating that Dylan might be the father.

Maison d'Hoyland. Toadie and Steph are still struggling with the technique. Steph is a soft touch and Toadie is a hardass. It's all rather tedious and predictable. Charlie's asleep at the moment, though. Lyn enters and shouts:
"KNOCK! KNOCK! IT'S ME!!"
at the top of her lungs. Immediately, Steph, Toadie and I are united against a common enemy. I don't know why she would shout like that if she wasn't deliberately trying to disrupt their attempts to settle the baby. What is her motivation? Ah - I see. She's just "picked up a few things to help get Charlie off to sleep." She's seeking to control Steph's life and to subtly erode her confidence in her abilities as a mother. This is the kind of parenting that sent Norman Bates over the edge. She's brought lavendar bags - "see they're really soothing" she enthuses. "You can hang one either side of the cot." She's also got lavendar oil for his bath. "Ah ..." says Toadie, in one of those rarest of things in Neighbours - a line which I wish I'd come up with - "What else have you got in there? Eye of newt?" Heh. Lyn is a witch. "He's already had his bath. And he's asleep." Now she has fallen foul of the Irony Fairy: Charlie awakens and begins to wail. "Aw!" says Lyn infuriatingly. Even babies don't merit that sort of superior, patronising tone. "I'll put a little drop of this on his pillow!" I hope the lavendar oil poisons Charlie, and Lyn has to deal with the guilt of it for the rest of her life. She'd probably blame Steph and then get her convicted of murder. Again. Steph has to body-check her to prevent her reaching the baby. She explains the technique to her and Lyn looks as horrified as if there were some sort of moral equivalence between the Controlled Crying and child abuse. Here's a question for you, Lyn, since you're such an expert on childcare:
WHERE IS OSCAR? WHY AREN'T YOU TAKING CARE OF YOUR THREE YEAR OLD CHILD?
I sympathise with her predicament as a single, working mother, but she isn't working now. She's interfering. So there's no real reason for her to separated from her child. You can't really judge what Steph and Toadie are doing, when your serial physical and emotional absenteeism is probably doing more damage to your own child. And what was that nonsense about you sending him to a slumber party for three year olds the other day? It seems to me that you're desperate to escape him. Look to your own life before judging others, Lyn Scully.

"What?" Lyn says, in absolute horror. "You just leave him alone to cry his little heart out?" Yes, that's right, Lyn, they're evil, evil, unspeakable people. Steph gives her more credibility than she's worse, by pointing out that the technique is safe and that they've checked it out with Karl. Lyn's having none of it: "Duh! Babies need love, Stephie, you know that!" Toadie mumbles something indistinctly: "They wait before," is my best guess. I hope it was something really insulting. "He could be psychologically scarred for life!" Lyn asserts grandly. She means "You might make him gay!" She's an invidious homophobe. "And there it is!" says Toadie - this is the attitude that Karl derisively predicted earlier. Maybe Toadie said "wait for it ..." before. That would make sense. Steph guffaws. "Stephie," says Lyn, her authority slipping away from her, "this isn't funny!" "Mum," Steph asserts, "I know what I'm doing." "Well good on you," says Lyn, throwing an almighty tizzy, "I hope you do. I'm not hanging around to be part of this cruelty." Grrr... I hate that woman with a fiery passion. She leaves and not a moment too soon. Steph jokes that she's now in the bad books of both Charlie and Lyn. Never mind, Steph. Charlie will forgive you and Lyn can just sod off and die somewhere. Toadie decides to pick out a DVD to watch to drown out the sound of "modern parenting". He picks up The Hand that Rocks the Cradle. He looks awkward and suggests some music instead. Is that the only DVD that Steph has in the house?

Ext, Timmins household. Harold and Loris. "A quick nip of Tazzle before you go?" asks Loris suggestively. "Oh dear ..." says Jelly Belly, "I'll be up and down half the night." It's refreshing that feels that he can talk about his weak bladder in front of his date. Undeterred, Loris offers him a Horlicks. "How did you have me pegged as a Horlicks, man?" enquires Harold. "This may be our first date, but I feel that I've known you for a very long time," says Loris significantly. Harold looks uncomfortable. I hope this works out for him, he deserves a bit of stability and happiness. Loris worries that he's upset by the dramas and the appalling faux pas from earlier. He kisses her impulsively, then breaks off to apologise. Loris kisses him. Aw. They arrange to meet up for a tazzle the following day. Apparently, Harold can handle it in the daytime. Exit Harold. Loris enters the house and discovers Janelle eavesdropping. She pretends to be angry for a while and then admits to Janelle that she thinks she's falling in love again.

Hospital. Just about everyone. Sky has gathered all concerned into her room, to save herself the trouble of telling them all individually. It's the philosophy of the mass email or the round robin. It's expeditious, but not particularly tactful. Karl tells the assembly that there's a chance that Dylan is the father of Kerry. Shock horror. Sky tells everyone that Kerry, Stingray and Dylan will undergo DNA testing to establish paternity once and for all.

Hoyland home. Charlie's been asleep for eight hours and forty three minutes. Toadie calls him Damien, spawn of Satan. Maybe he and Steph ended up watching The Omen rather than The Hand that Rocks the Cradle. Aha! This is one in the eye for Lyn and her rigid self-righteousness. Unless Charlie's dead. And it was their neglect of him wot done it. Um. Eight hours and forty three minutes seems like an awfully long time for a baby to sleep all in one go.

Hospital. Janelle and Karl in Karl's office. "Janelle," Karl says. His person-recognition skills are second to none. "Come in. What can I do for you?" "I think you've done enough already," says Janelle angrily. I sit up and pay attention - looks like Janelle's going to give Karl a well-deserved telling off. Excellent. "I'm not at liberty to discuss Sky's case, if that's what you've come for," squirms Karl. Of course it's what she's come for, Karl. "Yeah, yeah," says Janelle dismissively, "doctor-patient confidentiality - it's always a convenient excuse." Karl has always regarded that particular part of his oath as optional anyway. "If you think I'm going to let you hide behind that, then you are seriously mistaken." "I'm hardly hiding," blusters Karl. If you thought you could get away with it, Karl, you'd duck under your desk right now. "At first you say that Scott's the father and then you say he's not," Janelle says, neatly encapsulating a couple of months worth of plot into a nutshell. "Mistakes occur," says Karl uselessly. "So does incompetence," says Janelle. Quite right. "Oh, OK," says Karl cravenly, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave." He hates it when people say the 'I' word. "Yeah," says Janelle hotly. "Not till I've said my piece. You have stuffed my boys around well and good and it has torn my family apart. If that test comes back saying Dyl's the dad, I will spend the rest of my life making you pay." Credits. My prediction is that Dylan will prove to be the father, all hell will break loose for a while and Janelle will sue Karl. Then it will all be rosy. Everyone will forgive everyone else and Karl will be let off the hook. Yet again. That was quite a good last scene, but we had to wade through so much inconsequential chaff to get to it.