There must be a Santa Claus, if that loser Ian Beale . . .

Date Published: {J}

There must be a Santa Claus if that loser Ian Beale in EastEnders succeeded in getting Janine into ‘the scratcher’ for the night . . . or was it a feverish moment I endured during a battle with a bout of something that felt close enough to the A(H1N1) with which they have now been threatening us for months.

From this, you will gather that I was stricken by ‘the male flu’ in the past week, with much of the time being spent in loud sighs and moans on the couch in front of a blazing fire and the telly, as I tried to comfort myself with hot drinks, fistfuls of paracetamol, and lashings of tender loving care.

Wearing a dressingown voluminous enough to have got Napoleon safely back from Moscow, and between thunderous sneezes, heart-wrenching coughs, occasional high-pitched tortuous breaking of wind, and gasps ‘yes please’ to the odd fry-up, I have become one of the greatest living experts on ‘the soaps’ once again.

A week of this clinging to life is what has prompted me to ask if there simply hasn’t to be a Santa Claus – if Ian Beale can end up in the morning curled up in Janine’s bed on EastEnders?

I have to preface this by saying that in the face of such an offer myself I would have had to come up with a loud groan, and a reply like “no thanks . . . I’m not a well man . . . and I’m a happily married man”.

Now, let’s face it. Janine is hardly the most attractive personality in the world. You mightn’t want to marry her . . . but she makes up for not being the nicest person on the planet by being quite fetching and rather well upholstered. While you mightn’t particularly want to ‘take her home to Mum’, Dad might find her tolerable on the eye.

Schemer that she is, Janine can have her pick of those in the men in the neighbourhood, so how did she end up with loser Ian? Two empty bottles of wine in the kitchen, and Janine standing at the bedroom door in a rather fetching black number, and with tears welling-up in her eyes, and looking at Ian snoring in the bed, told the sad story.

Hope for us all guys yet, in a week that was, in many respects, tears all the way. Lest perhaps this should engender a flow of ‘get well soon cards’, can I say that while there were times when I was very low indeed with the ‘male flu’, what reduced me to tears was the soap opera involving not just ‘the soaps’, but also some very moving moments from the Budget coverage.

Before I go on to the drama in the Dáil, can I draw your attention to another highlight from ‘the soaps’. Kevin, the garage owner in Coronation Street, got away with one of the most unique excuses I have ever heard for a man delaying the business of leaving the wife and moving in with the girlfriend with whom he has been canoodling for months.

Kevin and Molly have been grabbing a quick snog for ages now, but very rarely seem to get the opportunity to go ‘all the way’, because of the sheer difficulty of getting a few moments alone. Why I remember one of their afternoon trysts in his home when two kids came home early and it went from passion to panic in the bedroom upstairs in a matter of seconds.

For more, read page 17 of this week's Galway City Tribune