The aftershocks of Pat Evans's death have left EastEnders' storylines in shreds. We're heading for the stars," she told new boyfriend Danny over a bottle of high-altitude fizz, fully aware that, 30,000 feet beneath her, on a drizzly patch of Weatherfield cobble, Steve McDonald was standing contemplating the prospect of 40 years manacled to Tracy Barlow with a face like an abandoned clay pit.įly away, Becky. "Regrets are for people what stop on the ground. After six years of miscarriages, velour jogging bottoms, theft, alcoholism, cigarettes and Steve McDonald, Becky had earned herself a first-class ticket to the Costa del Schadenfreude, a new life tucked under her arm like a raffle ham. Neither Roy nor his rolls stand a chance.īut it was for Becky McDonald that the bell tolled loudest, her departure – a public debagging of inveterate liar Tracy Barlow ("'Er medical records show that when she fell down my stairs … SHE WAS NOT PREGNANT") followed by a climactic airport dash in a leopard-print padded jacket – proving a fitting send-off for the reigning holder of soap's Golden Scrunchie for Indomitability In The Face Of Relentless Leisurewear. "Beef Encounter could be bigger than McDonald's! TOOT TOOT!" he barked as Roy looked on helplessly. Milton has a wide-fitting loafer in the door of the future and a rheumy eye on Sylvia's support hose. Roy gazed at the building plans and saw a faultline appear in his tiny, carefully ordered life.
0 kommentar(er)
