Tuesday 5 August 2014

'He's gone to the shop!!!'




Never have so few words held so much weight....


Yes, Ken's back! Hurrah!


Even an untrained eye could tell Ken had been away a while. A healthy bronzed glow had replaced the Barlow bleak beige and he hadn't hired a 'Streetcars' taxi back from the airport. Most tellingly, he thought 'surprising' his family would be a lovely idea. As the street's longest serving resident you'd think it would be imprinted in his every fibre of his being that this was very much the opposite; sort of like knowing when he's hungry or needs to visit the library. But I suppose maple syrup and vegetarianism can turn man's head...






Ken has returned a changed man. He's now vegetarian, (well, these intellectuals always have funny ideas), has begun to dress like an Umpire and is writing poetry (leave now Deirdre, now!). But Ken's lifestyle changes, pale into insignificance to the tumultuous time Deirdre's faced in his absence. He ain't the only one that's changed...





After the 'Surprise-Surprise!' of Ken's early arrival, Deirdre spent the rest of the afternoon keeping him prisoner in his own home and well away from the truth. In 'Goodbye Lenin' fashion, she shoo-ed away friends and neighbours, cracked on with a lasagne and pretended all was well. That was until Eccles decided now was time for her revenge and bolted...We all knew there was only so much those little paws could take... 
After witnessing the vision that was Deirdre racing like a be-slippered Zola Budd after Eccles, Ken suddenly felt the need for a bottle of brandy.

A fitting drink for someone who's about to get one helluva shock. Drink deep, young Kenneth you're going to need it... After bumping into Carla (could she smell that brandy?) he was soon up to speed. The beans spilled all over the Rover's floor, with a crowd of afternoon drinkers watching avidly, while chomping their crisps and supping ale ( a simpering Gail, Audrey and Les Dennis).

As the horror of the past few months unfurled, Ken ran through every emotion a man could - shock, disbelief, disgust, anger, grief - with the same expression. Stoicism incarnate...

Returning to No.1, Ken's fury was finally unleashed. 'How could you not tell me that my own son is in prison for murder?' 'What sort of woman are you?' he raged at poor Deirdre. Which is a bit much from Ken, who would be hard pushed to name all his children of the top of his head, and definitely couldn't pick them out of a police line up.


A tearfully apologetic Deirdre sobbed throatily, imploring Ken to understand and listen...to no avail. Eventually she got frigged off with his pious, sanctimonious preaching - roaring at him to 'Shut up! Shut up! Shut up...!'.


And with that, he did and went for a lie-down - never touching his vegetarian lasagne. Despite returning to a maelstrom of family breakdown, 
affairs, alcoholism and murder charges, there was one thing he was certain of. He doesn't trust that Rob...








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