Granny Gold is Wilting

Poor old Granny Gold is suffering in this heat, so she has asked me to stop filming for a while until she recovers. The daft old ham. But don't be glum, Plastic St fans. You can always look back at the previous gripping episodes to refamiliarise yourself with the deviously twisted plotlines, or just sit back and listen to the theme tune. Altogether now: "Let's creep / To the windows of Plastic St..."

Episode 18 - Better the Devil

Brandon looked at Ray, prostrate on the floor, and Mary, cooing over the view, and sighed. The plan wasn't going quite as... well, planned. Ray and Mary were at this very moment supposed to be shinning down the cliffside in search of Grandad Gold, preferably slipping and breaking their necks, saving him and Granny Gold the trouble of murdering them.

He was just about to rouse them into action with a convincing wail of despair when someone grabbed him by the shoulders. He span round, avoiding toppling off the edge of the abyss by the narrowest of margins.

"Dad! What are you doing here?"

There was urgency in Richard's face. Urgency, doubt and despair. And a little bit of gravy left from lunchtime. "Brandon, we must play a game of tennis."

"Now? Only I was in the middle of doing Granny a big favour."

Richard gave Brandon a shake. "Now. I have to be sure of something. And this is the only way."

Brandon took a step back, flailed for a moment, then took a step sideways instead. "And I have to be sure of something as well. So you'll have to wait."

"I can't wait! We have to play tennis! Now!"

The noise woke Mary from her revery. "Apparently Grandad Gold has fallen down the abyss," she said lightly.

"My god!" Richard sunk to his knees. "What are we to do?"

"I thought we'd just pop down there and rescue him," said Mary. "Ray?"

"There is nothing out there! Nothing!" groaned Ray. He scrambled to his feet and looked down. "Hang on, there is something down there."

"Hello!" piped up Grandad Gold. He looked very small, standing at the bottom all by himself. "I went off for a little toddle but didn't end up anywhere, so I decided to come back. Better the devil you know, eh? Could anyone give me a hand?"

Episode 17 - A Mother's Love

"I hope Dad's okay," Richard mused, as he stood next to Wendy watching Anita push Amy and Abigail on the roundabout. It didn't seem five minutes since they were at the park - in fact, it was about five minutes. He knew they had a home somewhere; they just never seemed to get to it. He had an image in his mind: a large, whitewashed cottage with a thatched roof and foxgloves growing wild in the front garden. Glancing round at the sea of plastic that faced him wherever he turned, the image suddenly seemed unlikely, but that was his house, he was certain of it.

Wendy put a comforting hand on his arm. "I know. I think he's going... you know."

"To be murdered?"

"No! I was going to say going a bit ga-ga."

Richard sighed. "Maybe it was just my imagination. I know Mum's as mad as a gatepost, but surely even she wouldn't murder her own husband!" He rolled his eyes as if to ridicule his own ridiculous delusions. "Oh, and - talking of attempted murder - Brandon looked well, didn't he?"

"Richard, do you think we could ask him to come home now?" Wendy burst out. "It's been so long. I miss him!"

"Do you?" Richard said, surprised.

"The way he used to scowl at me if I happened to meet him on the landing. The death threat posters on his bedroom door." Wendy smiled fondly. "And the booby traps in his underwear drawer." She glanced at her hands. "All I have left are the scars."

Richard looked at her disbelievingly. Wendy was now close to tears.

"And the way he set fire to the girls' bedroom...!" she sobbed, suddenly losing control completely.

Richard grabbed her by the shoulders. "Doesn't that tell you something? Wendy? He set fire to their room! He was trying to kill them!"

"He was only trying to keep them warm! The radiator needed bleeding!"

Richard very rarely raised his voice in anger against his wife, but this time he did. "There is no way that child is coming back to live under what's left of my roof!"

"You're just jealous because he can play tennis better than you!" burst out Wendy. She clapped her hand to her mouth.

"What?"

"He... I... no, it's nothing. Forget it! Forget all about it!"

Wendy ran from the park, still clutching her mouth as though she could claw the words back inside it. Her mind flashed back to the Holiday Inn Express and Gordon - she'd insisted he wear his tennis kit and sweatband throughout. Could Richard have guessed her secret? Did that explain his irrational hatred of Brandon? And why had she mentioned tennis? Why, why? If Richard ever played a set against Brandon it would be obvious for all to see...

Episode 16 - The Rescue part 2

Note: due to artistic differences and knackered legs, the inanimate object which played 'clifftop' has resigned and been replaced by a new, differently coloured clifftop which Plastic St fans will agree can only enhance this superior soapblog experience.

Ray rushed to the door but Mary grabbed his arm.

"Don't go with him! It's a trick!" she hissed.

"A trick? What do you mean? Are you saying that Brandon is deliberately pretending his Grandad has had an accident so he can lure us to the edge of this... abyss place, and push us off?" Ray rolled his eyes at Brandon and laughed dismissively.

"I mean," said Mary, putting her hands on her hips, "that this is Brandon Gold, the lead guitarist from Gore Hell Vandals and our chief rival in the Plastic St Battle of the Bands! He's trying to distract me so I can't practice my jazz hands!"

Ray shook his head. "Hormones! Come on, son. Show us where the trouble is."

Brandon, still clutching his side in pain, looked past Ray and Mary into the house. "I'll need at least four people to help," he said.

"Well, there's only the children..." Ray said doubtfully.

"They'll do!"

"I'm sorry, but Farmer Fun and the Funtime Furry Friends is on in five minutes," Mary said firmly. "There's no way Tom will leave the house."

Brandon's face darkened. "I can persuade him."

"I think we'd better get to your Grandad and not waste any more time," said Ray. "If we need extra help, Mary can get the rest of Uterus."

"But -" began Brandon.

Ray hustled them through the doorway. "Lead the way, Brandon my boy! I must say," he added to Mary as they walked through Plastic St on to a road he'd never taken before, "life is getting very exciting. I admit I've been a bit... down recently. Felt a bit lost. I imagined myself at the end of a road, facing a drop - all metaphorical, of course - whoooah!"

Ray looked down into the abyss.

Nothing.

There was nothing.

Plastic St just ended, and then it was the end of the world.

His mind raced. They had moved here from somewhere so there had to be another place, another town. But where? Where had they come from? He had a vague memory of packing boxes, nothing more. He felt giddy and slid to the floor.

"My god... there's nothing out there..." he groaned.

Beside him Mary smiled. "What a lovely view. It makes me so happy to think we live in such a beautiful place. I think I want to stay here forever, don't you, Ray?"

Episode 15 - The Rescue

"Now push. Push!"

"I can't!"

"Yes you can, you're just not trying! Now breath!" Ray Plastic puffed rhythmically into his wife's face.

She reached up and slapped him. "For the last time, I am not in labour!"

Ray sat back on his heels, red in the face from exertion. "You had a show."

"No, I said I was going to be IN a show. The Battle of the Bands, remember? With Uterus, the menopausal girl group?"

"But you said you had a contraction!"

"No, I said we had a contract. Now give me a hand getting up off this floor."

With difficulty Ray pulled Mary to a vertical position. "So you're just going to go ahead with this, are you?"

"Didn't you hear what I said, Ray? We have a contract. We're going to be famous. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Ray shrugged. He didn't really have a concept of fame. The only person who seemed to be well known around Plastic St was Granny Gold, and that was because people just didn't like her. It was more a sort of infamy, really. Of course there were the newsreaders as well, those vague head and shoulders that popped up on the television reading exactly the same news report day after day. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember what the news report actually was, which was rather odd as it never changed.

Quickly he sat down in the armchair on a button which automatically activated the television. The tinny theme music blared out.

"What...?" began Mary, but Ray hushed her.

"The news!" he hissed.

After a few seconds the television switched itself off. The news was over.

Ray shook his head. "Nope. I've still got no idea what they're on about."

"Ray, look at me. Look at me. What do you see?" demanded Mary.

Ray turned round and looked at his wife. "I see a..." He peered at her stomach. "Is that your belly button? It looks like a gear stick!"

Mary's face crumpled. "Well, the record company see a star, and that's what I'm going to be. With or without your support." She waddled off towards the front door.

"Wait! Mary! You can't! I'm sure I glimpsed the head while I was down there! Mary, come back!"

Mary put her hand on the door and looked back at him. She opened her mouth to say something.

The door swung open.

"Mr Plastic! Come quick!" Brandon stood panting on the doorstep with a wild look in his eyes. His hair stood on end and he clutched his side as though in pain. "Grandad's fallen down the abyss!"

Episode 14 - Brandon Takes a Beating

"And so it begins," said Granny Gold, exhaling deeply. A look of intense relief passed across her face.

"Eurgh, no - you haven't..." began Brandon.

"I was talking about my evil plan, not my evil bladder!" snapped Granny Gold. She took a sip of her tea. "I have set the bait. The rest is up to you now."

"Fine. Anything to get out of this schoolhouse," muttered Brandon. He hated sleeping at the school. Even worse, tomorrow it was time to let another family have a turn. He would be walking the streets or trying to sneak into the hospital. Granny was right: why should the Plastic family have the only house in the street?

"I want you to run up to the Plastic house and call for help. They'll all come running - they're that sort of people." Granny Gold looked disgusted. "Tell them your poor doddery old Grandad has fallen down the abyss. You must lead them there. They'll be sure to attempt a rescue - a rescue that is bound to go disastrously wrong."

"Okay," Brandon shrugged. "By the way, where is Grandad? Have you hidden him out of the way so it won't spoil the plan?"

"Something like that. I think it's called killing two birds with one stone. It's definitely called killing, anyway. Oh, wait a minute, Brandon." Granny stopped Brandon at the door. She tripped him up and kicked him a few times in the ribs.

"What was that for?" Brandon yelped.

"Firstly, because I enjoy it, and secondly because you need to look battered and bruised. You've been trying to help your Grandad and are injured."

"Right," gasped Brandon.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go to the..."

"The what?"

Granny pulled a face. "Too late. Now go, go, go!"

Brandon slowly shuffled out of the door, clutching his side. He had to admit it, Granny Gold was a genius.

Special - The Making of Plastic St

"It really is an enormous amount of fun," says Lou Treleaven, producer, director and internet visionary, when I ask her about the making of the famous blog-soap, Plastic St. It turns out she is actually speaking to someone else, on her mobile. After ten minutes I am able to ask my question again.

"It really is an enormous waste of time," she says.

What?

"A waste of time to ask me, I mean. It's a real team effort, this production. It might be just my name on the credits, but you're talking script editors, casting agents, costume, makeup..."

So how does a typical week pan out when the team is getting ready to produce the polished gem that appears every Wednesday?

"Well, first I draft out a rough script. I know what I want to happen and how I'm going to get from A to B, but that's about it. Then I meet with the script team who come up with some humorous dialogue, a few gags, oh and there's even a double entendre specialist."

Really?

"Yes, at a moment's notice he can whip one out and thrust it in to the script, leaving the audience satisfied and exhausted."

And when you're happy with the script?

"Then it's read-through time. All the cast for that episode meet with the script team and we sit round a table going through it like a radio play. The script is still up for revision even then. Sometimes the actors can come up with dialogue we never thought of. Particularly Rufus (Ray Plastic). He's hilarious."

What about Dame Margaret Montgomery (Granny Gold)?

"Oh, we make sure she has a large print version."

No, I mean does she ever need anything changing?

"Well, her private nurse sees to all that. We'd rather not get involved."

No, I mean -

"I did it once. Never again."

How much rehearsal time do the actors get?

"Not much, because by then it's usually Tuesday and the episode has to be ready to go out the following day. The crew film from the off and we use the best takes. Usually the first ones are the freshest."

You mean they just turn up, do it and go home?

"They're made of plastic. How much rehearsal time do they need? Anyway, if they get something wrong I just threaten to melt them down. I'm joking, I'm joking!"

And lastly, is there anyone on set you've grown particularly fond of? Anyone you're close to?

"Nope."

Could I please have a box set of the first series signed by all the cast?

"Clear off."

Episode 13 - Goodbye Grandad Gold

Grandad Gold lay on his back in the Abyss. It wasn't too uncomfortable, he thought to himself. It helped that he couldn't actually feel anything.

"I'm off, then," Granny Gold called down to him. She looked very far away up there, just a tiny head peering at him.

"Right-y-o. Off to get some help."

"No, just off," Granny Gold said.

"But I'll see you again in a minute - with the ambulance crew?"

Granny Gold smiled. "You can think that if it helps. So long."

"Wait!" Grandad began to call to her, but realised he had no idea what her first name was. He had always called her Granny Gold. How odd. "Wait a minute... Granny Gold... Goldy.... Goldykins..." He racked his brain for a suitable pet name. "My little nugget. My eighteen carat darling. My -" he stopped abruptly. She had gone.

He waited for the ambulance. He knew there was one in Plastic Street - a square, shiny white thing that occasionally emerged from the hospital, did a few pointless laps and returned, empty. Strangely he had never seen any patients in it. No one was born or died. Was that unusual?

His thoughts drifted back to his own childhood and for a moment he was lost in memory. Only for a moment, though. He only had one memory of his childhood: a dazzlingly sunny day in a park throwing a ball and laughing, vague blurred figures standing just out of the picture representing his parents. He realised with a sort of dull inevitability that he didn't know their first names either.

He supposed it was age. Other people probably had great childhood memories. But at least he had his love for Granny Gold - oh, it was absurd. How could he not know her name after all this time?

And then it hit him.

"Plastic St is our past, present and future!"

There was no time. She was Granny Gold, he was Grandad Gold. It had always been so. He couldn't remember his childhood because he had had no childhood. The one memory meant nothing; it could have been a picture he once saw, or even a false memory conjured up to represent what he imagined his past must have been like.

Brandon coming to live with them; that was the only thing that had changed recently. Oh, and falling off this cliff.

Slowly, gingerly, he tried to move. To his surprise, after a few false starts he was able to climb up to a standing position. It must have been the shock of the fall that had paralysed him. He felt himself all over, then looked round for his Elton John glasses. There they were just a few feet away. He put them on. He felt good, like Elton John. Goodbye, Yellow Brick Road. Goodbye Plastic St.

He glanced up at the cliff, then turned his back. Looking through stars, he began to walk.

Episode 12 - Back to the Abyss

"You dropped your Elton John glasses into the abyss?" Granny Gold repeated.

"My bright red ones, shaped like stars -"

"Yes, I am aware of the optical extravagance of Elton John, thank you!" Granny Gold snapped. "Well, we'll just have to go back and get them, won't we? Sorry to break up the happy family reunion. Come on, Brandon."

"I'm not going all the way back there," snarled Brandon. "And I thought the abyss was bottomless? How can Grandad get his glasses back?"

Granny Gold smiled nastily. "I'll find a way."

"Dad!" cried Richard suddenly. "Don't go with her!"

Grandad nodded compliantly. "Go with her, you say? Come on, dear." He shuffled off behind Granny Gold, who was still smiling.

"Dad! No!" Richard ran in front of his parents and pulled his father's arm. "You don't realise. You never have. She's evil! She doesn't even like Elton John!"

Granny Gold took Grandad's arm and marched him quickly away. "Say goodbye to your father nicely, Richard," she called over her shoulder.

"Dad!"

Richard's cries soon disappeared. Granny and Grandad Gold walked back through Plastic St until the road abruptly stopped. There was the abyss, in all its glorious nothingness.

"Can you see them?" Granny Gold asked, pushing Grandad Gold towards the edge.

"No, I need my close-up glasses for that," Grandad muttered, rummaging in his pockets yet again.

"But you look so handsome without them!" Granny Gold cooed. "It's just like when we were first married."

"Really?" Grandad Gold beamed, turning to look at her.

"Yes, I wanted to push you off a cliff then, too. Goodbye for ever!"

Granny Gold gave her husband an enormous shove. She just couldn't resist it this time. Silently he fell off the edge, and after a few seconds Granny Gold heard a distant thump. Cautiously she made her way as far forward as she could and peered over.

"I've had a bit off a fall," said Grandad Gold's tiny voice. "Do I have a personal panic button which instantly alerts the emergency services, like the fictional Mrs Hope in the old magazine ads?"

"No," said Granny Gold.

Episode 11 - Ray Gets a Grip

"Nice boy, that Brandon," murmured Ray to himself as he wandered back into the house.

He had a new vision - he was going to be the father and husband he'd always hoped to be. Not this vague, dispirited version of himself he'd become, constantly searching for meaning in a meaningless world. He would bond with Tom, get him to grow up a bit. They would play football together. He would try to persuade him to put down his plastic train and behave like a normal teenager.

And Sara. The poor girl was scared of her own shadow. Scared of any shadow, in fact, but particularly her own as it seemed freakily to follow her around. He would be a strong role model and show her the world was nothing to be afraid of.

As for Mary - well, it was about time she had that baby. He was beginning to suspect it was just a pillow she'd stuffed up there when he wasn't looking. He'd never seen her without her maternity dress. Perhaps they were sold as a unit: dress with fake bump, ideal for the wife who has run out of excuses. Well, excuse time was over. That baby was coming out.

He marched into the living room where Mary lay sprawled on the only chair, rubbing her bulging stomach with absentminded affection as an over-familiar news programme blared out. He was relieved to see that the other members of Uterus had left.

"Fancy a curry, dear?" he suggested lightly.

"Oh, no thanks," said Mary. "I'm not really in the mood."

I know that, thought Ray glumly. "Don't be silly, love. I'm offering to cook. A lovely hot curry - yum yum. I'll go out and get the ingredients -"

"Ray, it's summer. I don't want a curry. Besides, I want to rehearse some more tonight. Joss has thought of some great dance moves. I don't want to be full of heavy, lumpy curry."

"But you're full of a heavy, lumpy baby. How can you be contemplating pop stardom in your condition?"

Mary dragged herself up and planted her hands where her hips should have been. "Are you saying that woman with babies shouldn't have careers?" she demanded.

"No, I, er..." Ray blustered. "Not when they're about to give birth!" he burst out.

"You male chauvinist pig!" Mary shouted. "Come on, children! We're going out. And we're leaving your father here until he comes to his senses - which could be a long time."

"Good, maybe you'll finally have had the baby by then!" snarled Ray.

Tom and Sara clambered down from upstairs. Sara let out a shriek and pointed at Ray.

"Yes, I know," said Mary, nodding. "He's a living, breathing anachronism."

"No!" wailed Sara. "It's not that! It's his shadow!"

Episode 10 - An Awkward Encounter

"This could be - ah - awkward," remarked Richard, eyeing the three onlookers. They were walking back from the park, Amy and Abigail hopping on and off Anita's wheelchair as they went.

"What could be, dear?" asked Wendy.

"Well," began Richard, taking a deep breath, "it appears we're just about to run into our estranged son who tried to murder our other children, in the company of my megalomaniac incontinent mother, and my witless father who refuses to admit that he married the most evil woman on earth."

"Oh, Richard!" Wendy smiled. "I'm sure you love them really!"

"Let's just presume that's true for the next five minutes, shall we? It'll probably be safer. Hello, Brandon!" Richard said quickly as the group approached.

Brandon looked down at the plastic slotted-together pavement and kicked his ball sulkily. "Dad."

"Brandon, love!" Wendy rushed forward and threw her arms around her son. "Look girls, it's your brother!"

Anita stopped the wheelchair dead. She pulled Amy and Abigail on to her lap and held them tightly.

"Come on, girls," coaxed Wendy as Brandon struggled to free himself from her. "Come and give your brother a hug."

Richard leaned towards her. "He tried to kill them, remember?" he said out of the side of his mouth.

Slowly Wendy let go. "I'm sure he didn't mean it, did you Brandon?"

At last Granny Gold, who had been watching with interest, spoke. "Of course he did, you doting idiot!" she cried exultantly. "He's my grandson!"

"Hmmm," said Wendy in a noncommittal way, remembering the liaison with Goran the tennis professional at the Holiday Inn Express fifteen years ago.

"You just don't like me because I'm not ginger like those three!" Brandon burst out, pointing at Anita, Amy and Abigail. "It's reverse discrimination!"

"That's not true, love," pleaded Wendy. "And besides, you can convert. I've got some ginger hair dye at home. You'll look just like one of the family."

"You fool!" shrieked Granny Gold. "Don't you realise? You can't change here. Nobody can change. We're stuck like this, forever! We've looked into the abyss and seen the future. There is none. Plastic St is our past, present and future!"

There was a stricken silence. Brandon opened his mouth to supply another dramatic a cappella soundtrack, but met Granny Gold's eye and closed it again. It seemed nothing could heighten the drama of this moment.

Until Grandad began rummaging frantically in his jacket. "It's my Elton John glasses!" he wailed. "I think I dropped them into the abyss!"

An Interview with Dame Margaret Montgomery

Firstly may I say what a pleasure it is to meet you, Dame Margaret.

Thank you, dear.

And what a part - Granny Gold, the empress of evil, the archbishop of arch-bitches, the cardinal of cardinal sinners! Is this the pinnacle of your career?

Not really.

Oh.

I mean, I haven't had an acting career. I was plucked off the street to be Granny Gold and, well, here I am!

I'm flabbergasted. You've never acted before?

Never. I was toddling along one day with my shopper, and a nice young man stopped me and said he worked for an obscure internet-only TV channel and would I like to audition for a part? I said yes, of course. I mean, you don't get an offer like that every day, do you? He invited me to his office and I signed a five year contract that very same day.

But you weren't doing too badly before that by the sound of it. You said you were out with your shopper.

Yes, my tartan shopper.

You have a Scottish personal shopper? How a la mode!

It's a bag on wheels, dear. So anyway, they explained they had this character in mind and I was the spitting image of what they wanted.

You must have natural acting ability, then, to bring the character so vividly to life.

Not really. I just play myself, to be honest. That's what the director said to me. Just play yourself, only a tinsy bit more evil. I'll give you an example. When my grandson comes round I give him a slice of ginger cake. When Granny Gold's grandson comes round she gives him a murder weapon. It's only a subtle change but it makes all the difference.

What do you think of method actors like Carl Lovell (Brandon Gold), who prepared for his part by spending three weeks encased in plastic?

Carl is a love. He takes things very seriously, but then he went to drama college. I'm just little old me, an everyday granny plucked from obscurity and thrust into the limelight.

You are fond of cliches, aren't you?

At the end of the day, you've always got something to say.

Dame Margaret, thank you very much.

Since this interview went to press we have discovered that Dame Margaret Montgomery is, in fact, a genuine actress who has trod the boards in the West End for many years, and the story that she is an everyday granny plucked from obscurity was invented by the publicity department of Plastic St. Deplorable.

Episode 9 - The View from the Top

"This," Granny Gold announced, "is the edge of the world."

They had walked right through Plastic St, past the little schoolhouse, the Plastic family house, the vet's and the hospital. They followed the road until it ran out, then walked. Brandon had never been this far, and he suddenly felt his life was very narrow.

"Behold the abyss!" cried Granny Gold dramatically.

"What?" said Grandad.

Granny Gold sighed. "The view. Haven't you got your glasses on?"

"What, these?" Grandad Gold rummaged in his pockets and began to juggle with about six pairs of glasses. "I've got my reading glasses, my long distance glasses, my short distance glasses, my bingo glasses, my toilet glasses -"

"Hang on," interrupted Brandon. "Why would you need a different pair of glasses for going to the toilet? I can't see the point."

"Ah, but I can when I've got my toilet glasses on," Grandad said sagely. "Now, which glasses should I use for looking at a view, I wonder? Ah yes, the panoramics." He set a pair of extra wide glasses on his nose and gazed around. "No, it's no good. Can't see a thing."

Granny Gold huffed. She had a sudden urge to push Grandad from behind and enjoy watching him tumble down the sheer drop in front of them, arms flailing like windmills.

"You're very quiet, my love," Grandad said, putting on an enormous pair of pink star-shaped glasses that made him look like Elton John.

Granny pulled herself together. Now was not the time to bump Grandad off. There would be plenty of other opportunities and besides, Brandon was present and she didn't quite trust her grandson.

Brandon stared down at the drop. So this was it, the end of the world. There was nothing else out there, nothing at all. Nowhere to go. He would leave school, get a job in the hospital or vet's or just wander around aimlessly like most of the Plastic St inhabitants, and that would be it.

The thought made him smile. So there was nothing to live for. Big deal. That meant he had nothing to lose. He could be as evil as he liked, just like Granny Gold, and things could only get better. He surveyed his grandmother, gazing out over the empty landscape like the figurehead on a ship, and he had the sudden urge to give her a shove. If Granny Gold disappeared, it would save a lot of heartache. Granny Gold was pure evil. He would be a hero, once people understood.

He stepped back and kept his hands well to himself. A hero? No way. It was a villain he wanted to be now, it was his destiny. And he would out-villain Granny Gold. But not yet. First he would learn from her. Then he would trump her. And the name of Brandon Gold would be feared, from Plastic St to... He looked around him. From one end of Plastic St to the other end of Plastic St!

Episode 8 - Granny Gold Gets Evil

"Well?" demanded Granny Gold. Her small black eyes glittered malevolently inside the yellow spectacles. "Did you succeed in plunging the Plastic family into a deep depression causing them to leave their home vacant in a way which would only suit an evil elderly woman and her spare part of a husband?"

"I am listening, you know," Grandad Gold said mildly.

"Er..." Brandon played for time. He was a good liar, under normal circumstances. But nobody could lie to Granny Gold. She seemed to see into your soul somehow. He bounced the football under his foot a few times.

"Leave it!" shrieked Granny Gold. "You didn't, did you?"

"I did help Mary Plastic to make friends with the Uterus girls and I convinced Ray Plastic that life was worth living," blurted out Brandon, cursing himself for having to tell Granny Gold the truth. "But I didn't mean to!"

Granny Gold grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. "Do you know, Brandon, I thought I saw something in you once. A spark. I thought I saw a glimpse of myself at a young age, the little girl who pulled the wings off flies. But it appears I was mistaken."

"No, no you weren't mistaken! I can pull the wings off flies!" Brandon said desperately. "I just need to find one..."

"Silence!" cried Granny Gold. "Don't be ridiculous. We have gone beyond flies. Far, far beyond."

"What about daddy long legs?" Grandad Gold suggested.

Granny Gold ignored him. "I'm sending you back out there," she hissed at Brandon. "And this time you're going to send that pathetic Ray Plastic completely round the twist."

"Like me?" Grandad Gold suggested. I'm full of ideas today, he thought proudly to himself.

"Oh, worse than you. Brandon is going to show Ray Plastic the edge of the world, aren't you, Brandon?"

At that moment a burst of dramatically evil music filled the room.

"Sorry," said Grandad Gold. "My mobile."

He put his hand in his pocket to answer it. Granny Gold snatched the phone and threw it across the room where it shattered on the floor.

"As I was saying. The edge of the world, Brandon."

"But... I don't know where the edge of the world is," stuttered Brandon.

"Then let me take you there," said Granny Gold. She paused a moment. This time there was no spooky music. She glared expectantly at Brandon.

"Dah - dah - dah!" sung Brandon unhappily.

An Interview with Rufus Wright-Carter

Lou Treleaven meets the actor who plays Ray Plastic on his private island in Fiji.

Rufus, you're primarily known as a stage actor. What attracted you to a part in a long-running TV soap, and how does this fit into your career plan?

Well, Lou, not many people know this, but when I was offered the park of Ray Plastic I initially turned it down!

No!

It's true! I was in the middle of a run of Judas - the Musical at the Geilgud, I had Romeo lined up and it just wasn't a good time for me.

Bit old for Romeo.

Pardon?

I said it's a bit cold for Romeo. Tights and... stuff. So - what happened to make you change your mind?

Well, Judas closed early, Romeo & Juliet was banned on obscenity charges and... it was like someone wanted me to do this part.

The casting director?

No, someone higher.

The executive producer?

No, higher than that. This part - it was meant for me. Here is a man who finds himself in a plastic world. Is it real? Is he real? How come he can never change his clothes or put down his newspaper? Ray Plastic is me.

I'm sorry to hear that.

I'm talking metaphorically. Do you know what that means, Lou? It's like, when you compare something to something else. No, that's a simile.

"Juliet is the sun."

Who?

You did say you were going to play Romeo?

It was a modern interpretation expressed through the medium of Irish dance.

Right. No wonder it was banned.

What did you say?

I said, wonderful band. For the lovely Irish music. Thank you, Rufus. I'll let you get back to your luxurious celebrity lifestyle.

Thanks.

Episode 7 - Uterus begin rehearsals

Brandon shook his head as Tom and Sara skipped off to the playground. They had invited him to join them but he just couldn't bear their company one minute longer. Farmer Fun and the Funtime Furry Friends? He spat on the pavement in disgust.

Glancing up, he saw a rather insipid looking man walking towards him, a grown up version of Tom. He lowered his head expecting to be admonished, but the man stared through him vacantly.

Brandon spat again. If there was one thing he hated, it was being ignored.

The man sighed. "What does it all mean, eh? What's going on? Why are we here?"

Brandon looked at the man in disgust. He was clearly insane. "You're Tom and Sara's dad, right?" he said.

"Right..." replied the man. He nodded, first rather doubtfully then with increasing enthusiasm. "You're right. I'm a dad, a father. I'm Ray Plastic. I have a place in this world, if not for me then for my children." He took Brandon's hand and shook it. "Thank you, thank you. You have the wisdom of youth and the... the..." He looked Brandon up and down. "The acne of truth. Come inside. My home is your home."

Brandon struggled in vain as Ray steered him into the house. They were met by a vocal assault that sounded like three dogs locked in a shed within smelling distance of a steak sandwich.

"That's beautiful, darling," Ray enthused. "My wife and her new friends," he explained to Brandon. "They're rehearsing." Mary, Joss and Joss's sister Wendy were dancing round the room and clicking their fingers. Sweat dripped from their foreheads.

Brandon threw himself into the chair as Uterus began another number.

"I'm gonna have a hot flush, baby this evening,
Gonna have a hot flush, baby tonight!"

"Cool," said Brandon. Mary Plastic was slotting into the community far too easily, he frowned to himself. "Someone's out of tune," he said. "You, the fat blonde one."

Mary looked distraught. Brandon smirked to himself.

"Let's try again, darling," said Joss firmly. "And this time, listen to me."

Uterus sang again. Suddenly the dogs in the shed were gone. Three larks flew through the sky, warbling joyously.

"That was fantastic!" breathed Wendy when they'd finished. "Well done, Mary. And thanks, Brandon. You've really made a difference. I think we've got a chance of winning Battle of the Bands after all, girls!"

Brandon slunk out, cursing. What had he done?

"And Brandon?" Ray called from the front door.

Brandon turned around, scowling.

"Thanks for the advice earlier. You've really changed my outlook. I think we're going to be happy here after all."

Brandon swore violently.

Episode 6 - Brandon Begins

Brandon obeyed Granny Gold and ambled over to the Plastic family home. It wasn't hard to find. The place stood out a mile. Gran was right - why did these newcomers get to move straight into the best place in Plastic St while the rest of them were forced to stand about like spare parts? Something was wrong, and he was going to put it right. Even if it did mean co-operating with a daft old bat with a power fixation and a weak bladder.

There they were now, coming out of the house. Two pathetic little kids, a boy with a train and a girl hugging a toy mouse.

"Hi," he said, walking up to the boy nonchalantly. "Like your train."

"It's... it's mine," the boy blurted out.

"I'm Sara and this is my brother Tom," the girl said, coming forward shyly.

"Sara, eh?" Brandon sidled over to the girl. The boy was a wet fish. Maybe he would have better luck with the sister. "What year are you in, Sara?"

"Eleven."

"This must be fate! You'll be in my class. I'll save you a seat by me, right at the back. I hope you don't mind sitting at the back, Sara, where nobody can see us."

"I-I'm Year Eleven too," said Tom.

"No kidding! You're twins, right?"

"Er, no," said Sara doubtfully.

"But you're the same age. And you're related." Brandon thought back to his biology lessons, which he had spent drawing rude diagrams in the sanitised text book, 'The Adventures of Mr Sausage'. "You must be twins!"

"Well, we've always been the same height, and we turned up at the same time... I don't know, we're just The Children," Sara concluded uncertainly.

"Okay... well, let's get to know each other. What are your favourite bands, Tom?"

Tom clutched his train tighter. "Bands?"

"Yes, you know. Rock, pop, dance, speed-death-thrash metal... Who d'you like? Do you like Rancid Armpit?"

"Who?"

"You haven't heard of the Armpit?"

Tom shook his head.

"Okay - Chainsaw Death Monkeys. You must have heard of them. No? Satan's Entrails? Acid Facewash? Sado Nun Attack?"

Tom looked increasingly blank.

Brandon sighed wearily. "Go on, then. Who do you like?"

"Farmer Fun and the Funtime Furry Friends," said Tom, his face brightening. "It's on at half past four every day on the Baby Boogie Channel."

Episode 5 - On the Edge

Ray left Mary and Joss discussing song lyrics for Uterus ("I've put been on HRT, find out what it means to me!") and wandered outside. He wondered whether anybody else was having trouble adjusting to the move. Mary just seemed to be carrying on as blissfully as usual, her ripe stomach and saintly smile reminding Ray of a school nativity. He had played a sheep, of course. Mary had been there then, too, gliding along beside him as though reminding him by her constant presence that they were destined to be together. He remembered flicking a rubber at her in English, or had it been History? The rest of their courtship and young adulthood was just a fuzzy feeling of comfortable romance: holding hands in the park, holding hands in the cinema, and finally holding hands in the church. Other than those vague memories, there was just the bright colours of childhood and now, the present. It was as though someone had thrown him here and planted a vaguely happy past in his head to give him some sort of back story.

All of a sudden he felt like he was standing on the edge of a road, a road that stretched out from his house for ever and ever (seemingly), until suddenly it stopped, leaving him teetering on the brink of an empty space.

He put his hand to his head to steady the vertigo that had attacked him for the second time that day. It was rather difficult as he was still carrying a newspaper and briefcase, plus a strange blue cloth that suggested a coat although it had no sleeves or buttons. It seemed he was ready for work, but where did he work? In an office, presumably. He racked his brains and eventually came up with a fuzzy picture of a row of computers with screens around them like pigpens. There was a secretary called Trisha and a boss called Simon. Even the names made him yawn. They were predictable. His job, he was beginning to remember, was predictable. He supposed he should go back, go through the motions of unpacking, moan harmlessly about his job and pat his wife's smooth, round bump.

He looked for the edge of the road, the edge of the precipice, and felt a surprising jolt of disappointment that there was nothing of the sort after all.

Episode 4 - The History of Brandon Gold

Wendy Gold watched her two young daughters playing on the roundabout. They were so sweet-natured, so innocent. "I wonder how Brandon is?" she said. "I do miss him, Richard. Richard?"
"Er - yes. I miss him too," her husband agreed quickly. "Of course. I mean, he is my son. But Granny Gold's is the best place for him at the moment. We just couldn't put up with the way things were, Wendy. And besides, he and your mother seem to have some sort of bond. She's never bothered with the other three, that's for sure."
"But were things really that bad, dear? I'm sure he thinks we sent him away because of his hair." Wendy patted her own dark locks, tucked beneath the sun visor she always wore. (She had once dated a professional tennis player, and she liked the look.) Her husband was strawberry blond and all their children were a bright, vibrant auburn. All of them, that is, except Brandon. He was dark and curly-haired, a bit like the professional tennis player. Which was odd, as she hadn't seen Goran for years, apart from that one time where she had run into him at the Holiday Inn Express fifteen years ago.
"His hair?" repeated Richard. "But that's ridiculous. Doesn't he realise what he did to the girls was serious?"
Amy and Abigail shrieked with laughter on the roundabout. They seemed so much more relaxed and happy these days, Wendy mused.
"They were just larking about like children do," she said.
"Larking about?" exclaimed Richard. "Brandon trapped them under the see-saw and then took photographic evidence - look!" He produced a photo from his wallet.
"But the girls are smiling!" said Wendy uncertainly.
"They're grimacing with pain. And this one. He pushed a tree down on to them!"
"He told me they were playing a nice game of Murder in the Woods," said Wendy.
"Oh, wake up, Wendy," Richard said angrily. "There's something wrong with that boy."
"You're telling me," said a voice. The Golds' eldest daughter rolled her wheelchair up beside her mother.
"What do you mean, Anita?" said Wendy.
Anita glanced at her legs and sighed. "Nothing, Mum. Nothing at all."

Episode 3 - Granny Gold's Evil Plan

"Brandon! Brandon!" screeched Granny Gold.
"What is it now?" mumbled Brandon.
"I need you. Come here when I order you."
Brandon reluctantly left the blackboard he had been defacing and sloped over to Granny Gold. It was quite difficult to slope as he had a football permanently attached to the bottom of his right trainer, but being a disaffected teenager he did his best.
"What is it, Granny?"
"Someone has moved into the house," Granny Gold said. She looked at her grandson with great significance, but he failed to respond. She took a sip from the teacup she habitually clutched to her chest. "A family called the Plastics," she added with disdain.
"What's that got to do with me?" Brandon moaned.
Granny Gold shook her head in disgust. "Do you think it's fair, Brandon Gold, that we should all have to take turns sleeping in this pitifully small schoolhouse, not to mention that disgusting vet's place - we, who have lived in Plastic St all our lives - while they move straight into the big house?"
Brandon's face changed. "That's not fair!"
"They have a fitted kitchen!" Granny Gold paused to let the words sink in. "And a toilet," she added. Brandon still did not look outraged enough. "They have a TELEVISION!" she hissed.
Brandon's eyes widened. His hands clenched.
"Yes," Granny Gold nodded. "That's how I feel, and if everyone else is in their right mind - and I'm not speaking for the vet - they'll think the same. Now, I want you to go and spy on them."
"Spy, Granny?"
"I mean, make friends. Find out how they got that house. Worm your way in. Like a maggot."
Brandon understood. A smile spread across his face. "Yes, Granny."
"They have two children. They look... pathetic."
Brandon moved a hand self consciously to his head. "We can't all help how we look, Granny."
"You're not still upset about not being ginger enough?" Granny said, peering at him suspiciously through her yellow half-moon spectacles. She didn't like to see any signs of weakness in her favourite grandchild. "I'm sure that's not the reason why your parents asked if you could stay with us."
"Stay with you? Live with you, more like. Just because I don't have ginger hair like the rest of them. Well, I hate them all!" Brandon shouted, trying to stamp his foot and failing.
Granny Gold's face softened, like a candle in the shape of an ugly old woman that has slightly melted. "There, there. I'm proud of you. Hate is a positive thing, you know. I didn't get where I am today by liking everyone, did I?" She patted Brandon on the cheek. "Now, off you go. And if everything goes according to plan, the Plastic family will be so desperate to leave they'll be begging us to take the house from them!"
She tipped her head back for a burst of evil laughter, but stopped as her tea was beginning to slop over the edges of its orange plastic cup. And she was a little worried she might wet herself.

Episode 2 - Getting to Know You

"Cooeee! Hello, anybody at home? I'm Joss, live next door. Thought you might want some help unpacking."
"Oh, er, I think we're nearly there, but come in." Ray put down his box of train magazines and opened the door. A middle aged woman with dark curly hair and a bright pink scarf around her neck pushed past him.
"So this is it," she said, gazing around. "The house."
"Yes it's... ours," Ray answered uncertainly. "Would you like a cup of -"
"How on earth did you manage it?" Joss began to poke around the kitchen. "Fully fitted. Nice."
"I'm Ray and this is my wife, Mary," Ray said, politely ignoring the fact that Joss was trying to open the kitchen drawers.
Mary stood up, one hand resting on her stomach. "A neighbour? How lovely. I feel like I've always known you, Joss."
Joss looked Mary up and down. "So that's why you got the house. Things are changing for you."
"Yes, I hope so," said Ray.
"I won't hold it against you." Joss gave Mary a hug. She stood back, surveying her. "I've just had the most fabulous idea! You must join our girl group. Well, lady group. We're all ladies of a certain age. We call ourselves Uterus."
"Er, I think that would be a bit difficult," Ray said quickly. "Mary's nearly due, you see, and -"
"That sounds absolutely delightful," said Mary.
"We rehearse every Wednesday evening at the school," Joss continued. "My sister Wendy is lead vocal and Trisha and I are backing singers. Trisha's leaving so there's a vacancy. We're taking part in Battle of the Bands next month. It's between us and Gore Hell Vandals but I think we capture the zeitgiest. Anyway, can't stop - I'll have that cup of tea another time, Ray!"
"Good," said Ray, who was having trouble opening the fridge.
Tom and Sara climbed down from the bedroom and stood shly looking at Joss.
"These must be yours," said Joss, as though she had just picked up something they had dropped. She looked critically at the children. "They'll fit perfectly into Plastic St."
Tom held a red plastic train close to his chest, while Sara cuddled her toy mouse.
"How old are they? I've got a nephew a little older than the boy," Joss said, eyeing the train.
"He must be..." Ray counted in his head. "Fifteen," he said finally. It didn't seem possible. The children had always been... well, just children. And Tom had always carried that train. It was almost part of him.
Joss was looking at Tom in disbelief.
"They're... slow developers," Ray said quickly. "Give me the train, Tom." He tried to wrench the toy out of Tom's hands.
"Waaaahh!" Tom burst into tears and ran to Mary.
"Well, I was going to suggest he might like to play drums for Gore Hell Vandals with Brandon, but perhaps not," said Joss, raising her eyebrows.

Episode 1 - Moving Day

"The house," Mary whispered, "is perfect."
Ray hoisted up his box of model train magazines. He looked up at the bright red plastic facade. "Yep, it's er..."
"It's home," breathed Mary.
Ray looked at Mary sceptically. The square house with its bright blue roof, matching door and unconvincing faux flowers did nothing for him, but then he wasn't pregnant. Mary was. In fact, she had always been pregnant, as long as he had known her. They had also always had two children, a boy, Tom, and a girl, Sara. It was just the way things were. Pretty odd, really, when he came to think about it.
"What's the matter?" asked Mary.
Ray pulled himself together. "Nothing. I'm just not used to change, that's all."
"Change? It feels like we've always lived here. Don't you feel it?" Mary gazed up at the house again with such adoration that Ray felt he had to do something. He pulled her to him but she looked down modestly and he could only manage to peck her on the cheek.
Ray sighed. He wondered how on earth he had got Mary pregnant in the first place. Oh well, at least he had his model train magazines. He would have a rummage through them later.
He watched Mary squeeze through the door (how many months was she? six? seven?) and dumped his box on the nearest chair. The only chair. God, this place was small.
"Oh, I'm exhausted," puffed Mary. "Do you mind if I...?"
Ray removed the box. "Of course. You are pregnant, after all." He bent down closer to her. "You are, aren't you? I mean, it's not my imagination or anything?"
Mary smiled benignly. "Are you worried about having this baby, hun?"
"Why, are you? Does that mean it's coming?"
"Of course I'm not worried! We have a beautiful life, two beautiful children, and now this beautiful house. What do I have to worry about?"
"But the baby..."
"Relax. Go and check on the kids."
"There's a hospital near here, I saw it on the way. We could take you for a scan, making sure you're really... I mean, make sure everything's all right."
Mary patted her stomach. It was straining through her dress like a ripe apple. "Everything's always all right, isn't it?" she said.
For once Ray couldn't answer. It was this place, it had unsettled him. He had always accepted everything as easily as Mary appeared to. But this move was different. It was change. Perhaps he was changing too. That would be odd, as he hadn't aged since... well, since he could remember.
"You're right. There's no point fretting about things. I'll check on the kids."
Mary nodded and turned on the television. It was the same newsflash he had seen all week. He shook his head to clear it and walked through to the back of the house. There was no back wall and he had to climb up the side to get upstairs.
"Kids?" he called, blinking at the brightness of the electric green bed and pink bedside chest assaulting his eyes. "Is this how you got upstairs, too?"
Tom and Sara walked out of the worryingly open-plan bathroom. "Of course, Dad. That's how we've always gone upstairs, remember?"
Ray gazed over the edge, feeling a sudden swoop of vertigo. "Right..."