I’m never any good with a new bit of machinery. Apart from the possible exception of my iPod, no piece of electronic equipment I’ve ever owned has worked properly, exactly as it should, straight out of the box. There’s always a certain amount of tinkering to be done.
Now, either Elliott Hope is a bigger genius than we knew, or the Lung Laser 2000 (or whatever the new piece of kit is called) is completely user-friendly, because no sooner was it out of the cling wrap than he was using it to perform a bit of simultaneous “resection, coagulation and tissue sealing” on young Footballer Ben. There were the inevitable hiccups, of course. It wouldn’t be proper Holby surgery unless there was a moment when the machines started to bleep and someone yelled “Pressures are dropping!” and/or “We’ve got a bleed!” But, all things considered, and with the help of the glorious Connie, things went off fairly smoothly and Footballer Ben was soon on a trolley on his way back to his whiny mother and a WAG-filled future.
This was such ground-breaking surgery that the rep from the Lung Laser 2000 company showed up to watch it in action, and it was from him that Mark “Jesus” Williams learned that the machine had only been ordered the previous day. Eventually he discovered that Elliott had been swindled out of the charity funds raised for the original machine, and had sold his house to pay for the second. This leaves Jesus with a bit of an administrative headache, and leaves Elliott living in his car with his dog.
Even when Faye Byrne isn’t there, men are still fighting over her, such is her evil sexual power. Joseph and Linden continue to lock horns, though these days it’s about the right to be a father to Faye’s foetus. Joseph is the biological father, but Linden is kind of the sitting tenant of Faye these days, so he’s claiming the moral right to bring the child up. He’s a bit petty, though, that Linden. His dislike of Joseph runs so deep that, even when he had a patient literally dying on his operating table (sats were dropping!) and needed Joseph’s expertise, he wouldn’t let anyone get him. Luckily “anyone” doesn’t include Goth Nurse Frieda, who obeys only her own rules.
Posted by PLA (more Holby here)
In a storyline that’s shockingly like something from the 1960s, Syed has been going to a therapist who has promised to “cure” him of being gay. He was told to visualise the man he loves, Christian, covered in lice and pus. Well, Syed had a go at this, gripping Christian’s gleaming biceps in a manly way in the middle of the market. Later on, he shook Christian’s hand, to prove that he can touch him and not be affected by lust at all. “I’m not attracted to you… any more,” he muttered between clenched teeth, as his attempts to visualise something quite vile and disgusting no doubt backfired behind his eyeballs, what with Christian being all buff and that.
“It was like an electric shock through me,” he told his “therapist” later. Pseudo science having failed to “cure” him, Syed turned to a higher power. “I need to pray,” he told his long-suffering little brother Tamwar, a boy who permanently wears the expression of someone who was promised a nice, logical planet to live on but who finds himself sadly disappointed.
Lucas Johnson is a man who prays a great deal, and if his prayers were asking for him to be endowed with superior psychological cunning, they have been answered. The police have apparently not entirely bought into the idea that Denise killed Owen and then killed herself. Lucas finds himself needing an ally, and also someone to shift the burden of guilt to. So he decided to confess to Patrick. Not that he was the serial murderer, obviously, but that he was guilty of helping Denise to cover up her crime against Owen. He did it because he loved Denise, and he didn’t want the kids to have to know their mother was a killer. It’s all about the kids, you see, and right on cue Jordan appeared so that Lucas was able to demonstrate just what a rock he is to the young ‘uns. This is something Patrick can relate to, so he’s on board to help Lucas avoid police attention. Cunning!
Cunning is not a word we can apply to Phil Mitchell, who is praying that son Ben will survive being “sent dahn.” I’m surprised Phil hasn’t thought of sitting Ben down with a DVD of Scum to give him scene-by-scene pointers about life in juvenile detention. Shirley was able to give some practical advice. Ben now knows that “psychopaths are very touchy people” – advice which he may well want to pass on to Patrick.