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."