(Series 15, ep.37) Sacha and Chrissie. Did it all start out so promisingly? Not really. A one night stand that resulted in My Son Daniel. An intervening “romance” with Dull/Gay Dan. A wedding that probably wouldn’t have happened if Jac hadn’t issued a subtle threat. And months and months of patients and hospital visitors telling Chrissie that she’s waaay too gorgeous and wonderful for dear old Sacha, and her blushing prettily and agreeing with them.
I wanted it to work out, because I want Sacha to be happy, but it was never going to last. Sacha never thought he was good enough, Chrissie always thought she was too good. I liked how, when the break came, it came as a result of a situation that was morally and emotionally complicated, rather than the more obvious route of Chrissie having an affair, or the less obvious route of Sacha having one. My sympathy for Chrissie has fluctuated over the last few weeks, with last week’s behaviour in the red button episode being particularly unimpressive, but this week I did feel sorry for the way she was sidelined in the Levy Family Drama (Helen was good value, though).
Still, it didn’t excuse Chrissie’s rather nasty emphasis on the past tense when she was leaving Sacha in the Car Park of Grief. “What I loved – loved – about you was that I could trust you,” she said. Ouch. So Sacha was left sobbing in the car park as Chrissie and My Son Daniel went to stay with Mark “Jesus” Williams (who else would you turn to in a crisis than “Jesus”?).
No Pregnancy Watch this week, as Jac wasn’t around. Instead, for the night shift Darwin was being staffed by Jonny Mac, Mo (who seemed to be officially stationed in the coffee bar, as she wasn’t actually on the ward much – maybe she was giving out healthy heart advice to people planning to order pies), Oliver Valentine and Dr Honey. Elliot was around, but was having a well-earned half with Dr Sharon, who told him to turn his pager off. Not content with deploying Dr Posh as an irritant to the already beleaguered Grieving Widower, Serena decided this week to torment him by having Dr Honey shadow him. It wasn’t a terribly rewarding situation for either of them. The patient they were dealing with was somewhat high-maintenance and could have tried the patience of a saint. As it was, he was just trying the patience of a vicar, who also happened to be his partner. When he got stroppy with Ollie and refused a chest drain, Ollie got stroppy in return and stomped off, leaving Dr Honey to do a procedure she wasn’t qualified for.
It’s been far too long since we’ve seen Henrik Hanssen, but in his absence Serena seems to be taking on something of his persona. The way she asked Oliver, “Were you there, Dr Valentine? Supervising?” was pure Hanssen.
Meanwhile on Keller there was a sweet double-act of dying Seb and an old man called Mr Potter, who were both trying to encourage Digby to ask Chantelle out. Poor old Digby ended up letting Mr Potter’s grandson think that Mr P was dead, when he was actually in theatre. Then he had to break the news that he had, in fact, died. Every week I love Digby more, and I did feel for the lad when Chantelle turned him down, although he could hardly carry on being the bumbling, hapless soul he is if he was stepping out with the prettiest girl on the ward. Just ask Sacha what a trial that can be.
Next time: Seb deteriorates; Honey and Posh are back on AAU; and Elliot has a date.
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