Happiness Is...A Bulging Bank Balance

[RitaLittlewood]

Okay, this is actually 2 stories I put together which was originally on the old Granada board from September 2002 until it closed at the end of Feb 2003 and I tried to tie in things happening in Corrie so it would be in real time. So if anyone was on there and remembers Screenwriter then you'll not find it strange I included me and her since we used to to that. Then picked up 7 months later from September - November 2003. Enjoy! ;D

Part 1

Reet came out of the hairdressers sporting her new plum-coloured hairdo to match her eyebrows with extensions (the hair, not the eyebrows). It was her 54th shade in the past 30 years, but she didn't care. She remembered she had to do some shopping, which she hardly did these days except going to France for crates of vodka, spending most of her time who knows where when not behind the Kabin counter, or occasionally being allowed to prop the bar up in the Rovers. She walked into the butchers.
"Morning, Ashley," she said cheerily.
"Good grief," Ash squeaked. "Is that really you, Reet?"
"Course it's me," she replied.
"It suits you," Ashley said.
Reet blushed. "Thank yer, Ashley."
"What can I get you, Reet?"
"Pound of sausages, please and a couple of chops."
Ashley got her order while she handed over the money. They eyes met as their hands gently brushed each other's. Ashley went round the front of the counter and they locked in a passionate embrace.

Meanwhile, Reet returned to The Kabin with a spring in her step. Norris dropped the bag of toffee whirls when he saw her new look.
"Afternoon, Norris," she said airliy.
"Reet?"
"Course it's me. Yer the second one who's asked me who I am today. Anyone'd think I had two heads, or summat," she replied, trying her best not to lose her temper and let it spoil her day.
"You look like a redheaded Veronica Lake," Norris observed.
"Do yer think so?" she asked, stroking the extra long fringe now covering half her face.
At that moment Ashley walked in. Reet tried not to be too happy at seeing the helium-voiced hunk (well, to her he was a hunk).
"Hello, Ashley," she said, trying to be nonchalant. "What can I do for yer?"
Ashley blushed. "Brought your order," he said quietly.
"Ah, right," replied our Reet. "Best come upstairs then so I can put it away."

When Reet and Ashley got up to the flat, they embraced passionately. When they broke apart, Ashley spluttered and pulled her hair out of his mouth.
"I fink you'd better tie that back in future," he squeaked, still pulling out the odd strand.
"I'll try and remember," Reet replied, flicking her hair back with her hand. "Never had it this long before. These extensions are great."
Ashley removed the last hair from his mouth and opened the bag.
"I've already got my order," Reet pointed out.
"It's not yer order," Ashley said, putting his hand in and pulling out a large bunch of flowers. "I got yer these."
Reet was touched. "Aw, thank you, Ashley," she said, on the brink of tears as she was so happy. "It was very thoughtful of yer." She took the flowers and put them on the side.
"I love you, Rita," Ash declared.
Reet's heart skipped a beat. "And I love yer too, Ashley," she cooed. "But what about Maxine?"
Ashley put his arm around her, pushing her locks over her shoulders. "Maxime who?" They both smiled and kissed passionately again.

Reet disappeared for several weeks on yet another unexplained and unmentioned absence. Ashley was going frantic. His little voice squeaking higher each day he was without his dearest love. Maxime as usual, didn't notice anything wrong with her devoted hubby, despite the fact he kept ringing Norris and asking if there was any sign of Reet yet right in from of her.
"I'm going out," she declared.
"Fine," Ash replied flatly, worrying what might have happened to Reet, and if his sausage roll had put her off him forever, since she vanished the day after.
"Job hunting. See if anyone'll hire me when I'm out of here," Maxime added, but it was obvious he wasn't paying attention so left.



To be continued....

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 2

Several more weeks later, Reet was back. Ashley was so pleased, and held her hair back behind her head as they kissed.
"I were worried about you," he said. "No one knew where you'd gone."
Reet gently stroked his face. "Oh, that always happens. Soon as I get a big storyline, I'm off again. Make the most of me. I'm only in this one scene for the next 3 weeks."
He twisted her locks around his finger.
"Ouch!" she yelled.
"Sorry," he squeaked, letting her hair go.
"Oh, yer'll never guess what the writers had me do while I was away, Ash, darling," she said totally fed up they'd given her more rubbish. "Apparently, I had me belly button pierced and got a tattoo saying, 'Reet and Ash Forever'. I really must have words about this."
"But, Reet," Ash piped up. She looked round, sure she could hear a talking mouse. "If people see that tattoo, then they'll know all about us."
Reet put her arm around him, and was glad they'd given her a fella almost her own size for once so she didn't have to strain her neck in the kissing scenes. "Don't worry about it, love," she assured. "No one's seen me arms for several years. Our secret will always be safe."
Ash smiled. He too was glad of a girlfriend almost his size so he didn't have to strain his neck either. "Good."
They kissed.
"Right, that's me done. See yer in 3 weeks, love." And she was off home to put her feet up and be pampered the way a star should be, preparing herself for the next daft thing the writers who weren't Patsy and Screen came up with.

Reet was in the Green Room flicking through the latest script. She was so fed up with her lot, and decided to have words with the Story and Script Editors who were having a meeting in the Museum of Science and Industry a couple of streets away. She saw them by the window in Xperiment.
"Ooh," said Patsy, all excited. "Reet and Len lived there. Then Reet and Len lived there," she added, pointing to the houses. "Then Reet and Alan lived there and he tried to do her in with an MFI cushion."
"Then Reet lived there with Ted," added Screen, pointing the The Kabin/Post Office/Nightclub or whatever it was meant to be these days. "Now it's just Reet."
"And it's high time," a voice boomed, "I started having a bit of fun."
Patsy and Screen froze, quaking in their boots (or they would if they'd been wearing them). They slowly turned round to face the Queen of the Street. They fell to their knees bowing. "We're not worthy," they chanted.
"I know yer not," said Reet. "But since yer have a 20-foot high statue of me and lay flowers every day, yer'll have to do. But on the strict understanding yer also start laying the flowers at MY feet and worship me every day."
Patsy and Screen looked at each other. "We'll do anything," they replied together.
Reet smiled. "Good," she said. "Yer can start by giving me decent plots and more screen time." They looked at each other again.
"Anything you say," Patsy said, quickly getting on her mobile to order 200 dozen red roses, while Screen pondered the idea of bringing in Michael Owen as Reet's latest boyfriend, then rejected it, preferring to have him and his Lucozade to herself.
"Oh, and get rid of that stupid dog. Give it to Emily, or someone," she added then left them to it and returned to the studio.

Ashley was round at Reet's again. She invited him to sit beside her on the sofa, which he did. "Ow!" she cried. "Yer sitting on my hair!"
"Sorry, Reet," he said. She pulled her hair out the way as he moved. "I've had enough of this," she said, heading for the door.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Wait here," she ordered.
"You're not going away for weeks again, are you?"
She could tell from the different tone of squeak he was worried. "Don't worry. I have 4 whole scenes this week. Aren't I lucky?" With that, she was gone.

Several hours later, Norris was busy in the Kabin selling a stamp when Reet walked in. He dropped the stamp in shock at Reet's latest look. She'd changed the colour to raspberry, and had shorter extensions so her locks were shoulder length and a bit wavy and combed over the top.
"Reet?" he asked.
"Why does everyone always give that reaction?" she asked, fed up.
"You've changed it again."
"I always do, though usually no one notices. Well?" she said, pleased with herself that this style was easier to manage, and less likely to be eaten or sat on.
"You look like a redheaded Bette Davis now," he observed.
"Do yer think so?" Reet asked cheerfully. "Thanks, Norris. I'll be upstairs if yer want me."

Ashley was biting his nails and stopped when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. He got a shock when he saw what Reet had done.
"Well?" Reet asked worried he only wanted her for her 4-foot mane. Ashley beamed.
"You look even more lovely," he said, going over to her and they kissed passionately again.


To be continued...

[Jade]

Hey! Thats really good... Ashley n Reet?! EWWWWWW! Sorry no offence how did you think that up? Its real good thought.

[RitaLittlewood]

None taken. It was just ridiculous thoughts. You ain't read nothing yet. It gets more ridiculous as it goes on! LOL! I'll put up the next couple of parts.

Patsy

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 3

Reet was behind the counter in The Kabin, determined to take her mind off Ashley until she saw him later. Norris was serving Ken, and asked her to pass over a walnut whip.
"I can't! I can't! I can't!" she wailed. "With all my heart, I STILL love the man I killed!" she continued before sobbing on her sleeve. Ken and Norris were confused.
"Which man would that be, Reet?" Norris cautiously asked.
Reet looked up dry-eyed. "Search me," she shrugged. "It's what it says in the script." She pulled it from under the counter. "See?" she said, pointing at the line. "I say that and it says 'Reet is melodramatic'. That's the sort of thing I've been waiting for since Ted Sullivan 10 years ago. Those girls obviously know what's what." She put the script back. "Walnut whip, were it?"
"Cut!" the director yelled. "Well done everybody. Right, let's break for lunch."
Reet picked up her script and went to the dressing room to relax, asking the floor manager to tell Patsy she wanted to see her at once.

Patsy nervously went to the dressing room carrying the draft script for the next episode. She wished Screen was with her, but she was too wrapped up sending Michael Own good vibes. Patsy knocked on the door.
"Come in," she heard from the other side.
She slowly opened the door, and inane grin on her face. "Brought you the next script," she stammered. "Hot off the printer."
"Ah good," Reet said, holding out her hand.
Patsy handed it over. "You wanted to see me," she croaked.
Reet rolled her eyes. "Oh please. No Ashley impressions. I haven't eaten yet."
Patsy coughed. "Sorry. Never meant to come out like that," she grovelled.
Reet flicked through the script. "Hmm," she began. "Not bad. I especially like what I see on page 23. Whose idea was that?"
Patsy coughed again. "Er... Mine. Screen's is page 12."
Reet beamed. "Like that too and will have fun acting it out. Ahh, sometimes I love this job," she sighed, reclining on her sofa. "Now, the reason I wanted to see yer was, I understand from Screen you're my biggest fan and have a museum dedicated to me."
Patsy swallowed nervously, hoping she wouldn't demand a percentage of the profits. "That's right. Though Debbie Thrower has pinched your fucshia jacket and wore it on Meridian Tonight earlier on," she babbled. "Rest assured, I will get it back."
Reet nodded and had a sip of her champagne. "I'm sure you will. Got many exhibits?"
"Yes. But I'm still on the lookout for Harry Bates. He seems to have vanished."
Reet stroked her new hairdo thoughtfully. "I understand yer'll now find him in Heartbeat."
"Ah," Patsy said as realisation dawned. "I thought he looked familiar. Thanks, Reet."
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," Reet commanded and her caviar and chips were brought in. "Yer may go, Patsy."
"Thank you," Patsy said, curtseying.
"Tell Screen I'll see her after lunch. And I might pop down to your museum when I have a free moment. Goodbye."
With one wave of Reet's hand, Patsy was dismissed and ran to Screen to tell her the good news about the script.

Reet wandered across to the garage to see if Kevin or Tyrone knew what happened to her car, which used to be parked outside her front door, and she was sure needed a service, but couldn't remember when she last saw it. Tyrone was busy dreaming of marrying Maria and living happily ever after with her and Monica to notice.
"Sorry, Reet," Kev said, wiping his hands on a rag.
"Get off me, Kev!" Sally shouted. "That's my best coat! Will you never get it into your thick head you're just a lodger to make the gulls happy, and help pay the bills?" She stormed back to number 13, carefully slamming the door so the house didn't fall down.
Reet sighed. "Things not going well between yer and the girl I bought to be my surrogate daughter for five thousand quid?" Reet asked sadly, already knowing the answer.
Kev shook his head and looked round for another rag. "I was thinking," he started slowly.
"Yer'd like me to babysit Rawzie and Sawfie tonight?" Reet pre-empted.
"Would you?" he asked hopefully. "I'd like to take Sally out and try and get back into her good books."
Reet smiled. "Course I will. About 7?" she replied cheerfully.
Kev hugged her. "I don't know how to thank you, Rita," he said.
"Yer can let me breathe for a start," Reet gasped. He released her and she rubbed her neck.
Kev looked down. "Sorry," he said quietly.
Reet smiled again. "That's all right. As long as yer have a good time," she whispered hoarsely.
Their eyes met and they threw their arms around each other in a passionate embrace. Meanwhile, Ashley came out of his house and made his way towards The Kabin...

To be continued...

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 4

In Ritanation Street, Reet awoke in a cold sweat. "What a nightmare," she said to herself. "Marrying Fred and getting that stupid mutt. Ugh!" She shuddered. "Thank goodness Patsy and Screen know how to write for me and make me happy." She reached across to the bedside table, picked up her glass of vodka and had a swig. "Ahh," she smiled. "That's better." She looked at the clock. "Oops," she said, getting out of bed. "I'm late for getting me hands mucky with all those papers." She went to the wardrobe and pulled out an outfit. "Yes," she said to herself again. Well, no one else to talk to since the mutt was fobbed off onto Emily and bit Blanche. "That'll do nicely. I'm really surprised Betty hasn't noticed I've pinched her clothes yet."

Meanwhile, Ash was tossing and turning, fretting over what he'd seen his Bette Davis look-a-like great love doing with Kev. He couldn't believe it, so decided to confront her. He got dressed and went to The Kabin. From outside, he heard a row so went in.
"Give me my clothes back!" Betty demanded. "You've got enough money, you cheapskate, so buy yer own! I'm just a poor pensioner. I'm disgusted you could stoop so low, Reet."
Reet shrugged. "Okay, yer win," she said, holding her hands up. "I'm surprised it took yer several years to notice, though."
"I'll be back later so I want them all washed and ironed!" Betty demanded, before leaving in a huff.
Reet stuck her tongue out. "Look better on me than they ever did on her."
"That's the first sign of madness," Ash squeaked.
"Who cares?" Reet shrugged. "Most folk round here think I never recovered from Alan Bradley or the carbon monoxide." She pointed at him. "And don't yer DARE mention Alec Gilroy!" she ordered. She pulled herself together. "Yer an early bird."
Ash reddened, but knew he had to confront her. "Couldn't sleep. I were thinking about you."
Reet smiled soppily. "Aww. Did yer really?"
"Yes. What were you doing with Kevin Webster yesterday in t'garage?"
Reet fiddled with her scarf and scratched her neck. "Nowt," she replied all wide-eyed and innocent. "He were comforting me over the mysterious disappearance of my car. Yer don't know what happened to it, do yer?"
Ash was relieved. "No. Ooh, Reet," he squeaked excitedly. "I thought you were two-timing me."
"Would I?" she asked in mock horror. She went round the front of the counter and they kissed passionately.

Reet was pleased she'd convinced Ashley, her hunky mouseman she was a one-man woman. And apologised for all the ink on his face and shirt from her fingers. She wished they'd make the ink quick drying these days, and didn't understand how they didn't with all that technology. All that washing her hands was drying her skin out. She'd seen in the script she was allowed to go to the Rovers, which cheered her up even more. It had been so long, she wasn't sure she could remember what it looked like, or what she had to drink. As she walked towards the pub, she heard Kev call her. She was in two minds, but decided to go with the original and went over. "Hello, Kev. Where's Tyrone?" she asked, looking around.
"Gone to walk Monica," Kev replied as he got closer. "He'll be gone hours."
Reet cast her eyes down and smiled coyly, playing with the stud on his overall. "Oh, well," she whispered. "That's all right then. Only I can't stay too long. I'm allowed in the pub and I want to film that scene. After all, who knows when I'll be written in there again."
Kev beamed, grabbed her scarf and pulled her to him where they kissed passionately.

A little later, Reet entered the Rovers. "Hey," Betty snapped. "I hope you've done that laundry."
Reet rolled her eyes. "Keep yer hair on, Betty," she replied, leaning on the bar. "It's done. Pick it up when yer want. And lock yer wardrobe in future."
Betty looked her up and down then sniffed. "I see you've got another new image."
Reet looked at her attire. "Aye. Pinched these from Liz McDonald. Vodka and tonic, if you'd be so kind."
Karen nudged Steve.
"What?" he barked.
"Er... Keep your eyes on me, babe," she demanded firmly.
"I'm not looking at anything. Finish yer drink and stop moaning!"

Another while later, Reet returned to the shop. "I'm going on a cruise!" she announced. Norris dropped his pen.
"What did you say?"
"Tomorrow, I'm off to Southampton and will sail away for a week or 10, depending on how long the writers have me off-screen for. Patsy and Screen, don't make it too long, eh, girls? Ta." She frowned. "Where was I? Oh, yes. The QE2, or Aurora, or Oriana, or summat. I don't know."
"B-but, Reet," Norris stammered, pulling out all his cruise brochures from under the counter. "There's no ships in tomorrow."
Reet tutted. "This is fiction, idiot! Dramatic licence. After all, Annie Walker went on a cruise in a February, while the ships were on their world cruise. No one batted an eyelid then. Farewell, and look after the shop. I'll be counting the pear drops before I go. Yer'll get a postcard, if it says so in the script. Ta-ta." She swept past him to go upstairs, waving as she went.

To be continued....

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 5

Reet swept into The Kabin from her cruise. "I'm back," she declared theatrically.
Norris sniffed. "So I see," he said flatly. "Quick trip."
Reet sighed, again theatrically. "Dramatic licence, remember? Yer can do anything to get a half-decent plot line. Like, for instance, making out I'm daft by leaving Len's name on the deeds so Alan could swindle the Building Society, when in reality it would've been my name on them. Things like that."
"Oh," Norris uttered with total disinterest since he never gets even a half-decent plotline. And when he does, like being kidnapped by Richard, it's fizzles out. He couldn't help noticing an elderly man had struggled with Reet's trunks and was now standing beside her with his arm around her shoulder. "Er...Reet," he started quietly. "That taxi driver's a bit familiar, isn't he?"
Reet laughed. "He's not a taxi driver. He's my husband," she announced with more sweeping gestures. "Norris, I'd like yer to meet Senor Javi Jojita. Javi, this is Norris who I told yer about."
Javi smiled knowingly. "Very pleased to meet you," he said and shook Norris's hand.
Norris was wary, thinking he was a golddigger. "Likewise, I'm sure," he sniffed. "Hey," he realised. "That means you're now Rita Jojita."
"Yes, Norris," Reet replied, rolling her eyes.
"And if you weren't a Mrs, and were Spanish, you'd be Senorita Rita Jojita."
Reet felt like clonking him one with a packet of extra strong mints, but decided against it. She was far too happy. "It were love at first sight, weren't it, Javi?" she cooed, looking deep into his eyes.
"It was," Javi concurred.
"H-how did you meet?" Norris asked warily.
"I went on an excursion, met Javi and he arranged for us to get married a few hours later. Isn't he wonderful?"
"If you say so," Norris said flatly.
"Come, Javi. I'll show yer yer new home." And with that she floated out, leaving him to struggle with the trunks again.

Kev and Ashley were gutted by the news. Kev chose to keep his distance, while Ash thought it better to find out why she'd done this behind his back.
"Nowt's changed," Reet told him.
Ash was appalled. "Course it's changed," he snapped. "You're married."
"So are yer," she remarked.
"Not for much longer," Ash reminded her. "I wanted to marry you once my divorce from Maxime was through a few months after she went."
"And yer still can," Reet said, waving her arms about. "Don't you worry about Javi." She winked.
He didn't know what she was getting at, sighed and left.

A few months later, Javi died. Reet took a book carefully from a drawer and looked at it. The Secret Diary of Rita Littlewood-Fairclough- Sullivan-Jojita, aged 70 2/3. She sat down and read the earlier entries: Met Javi. Fell in love as soon as I saw his bank statements. He has no living relatives so there'll be no fight over the will, and a dodgy ticker. In't life grand? She picked up a pen to add the latest: Terrible news - Javi's dead. Brilliant news - I'm rich again! She looked at what she'd written, smiled then closed the diary.

After the funeral and the will was read where she discovered he'd left her £73,352,719,31p after tax, she decided to have another makeover to celebrate. Fred saw her come out the hairdressers, which she only used knowing Audrey wasn't there, having been successfully turned mad by Richard. She never really trusted Audrey with her lovely locks anyway after she messed up Hilda Ogden's many years ago.
"I say," Fred called. "Is it the fair Reet, or Mae West?"
Reet waved and headed back towards the shop. She stopped when she saw Ashley conveniently coming out of it. He was completely taken aback by her new looks. She smiled. "Why don't yer come up and see me sometime?" she said, winked and went inside.

To be continued...

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 6

Fred strolled into The Kabin grinning. "How are you, my little chickadee?" he boomed as he entered. His face fell when he saw Reet. "You've done it again!"
"Uh-huh," Reet replied.
"A redheaded Elvis Presley!" he exclaimed.
"Uh-huh," Reet repeated, curling her lip.
"Why? I liked the Mae West meself."
"Couldn't think of the lines," Reet stated. "And at least I can belt out a cracking Version of Are You Lonesome Tonight. Listen."
She opened her mouth to sing, but Fred interrupted. "I'm sure you can. Perhaps another time."
Reet scowled. "Hey, I may have lost me marbles on more than one occasion," she snapped, "but not me voice. So shurrup and be surprised!" She began to sing and Fred was agog. When she finished, Fred clapped and she bowed, self-satisfied. "Told yer, cynic," she said.
"That were marvellous, Reet. I say, marvellous. Why you never made an LP is beyond me."
Reet smiled smugly again. "I did. 1973. Don't tell me yer didn't buy it." She tutted. "No wonder I was broke for so long."
Fred was very impressed. "Well, I'll have a look out for it. Now please. Ditch the jumpsuit and shades, please."
Reet shrugged. "Okay. Back in a tick." And she was off.

Half an hour later she was back. Fred had gone, explaining to Norris he wasn't sure how much more of her makeovers he could expect.
"You've gone back to the almost the hair colour you had a few years ago," he observed. "Not Lucille Ball now?"
Reet winked. "I have a plan, Norris and I may need yer help."
At that moment, Richard walked in and Norris froze. He took one look at Reet and instantly fell in love. "Hiya, Ricky," she said cheerfully. She turned to Norris. "Yer can go and get yer dinner now, Norris." He did, without hesitation.
"Oh, Reet," Richard said softly.
"Oh, Ricky," Reet replied and they kissed passionately.

At the Hillmans, Richard was about to go out as Gail came downstairs. "Where are you going?" she asked.
"Er..." he began, eyes overacting to get a pay rise. "I'm going to sell Rita Jojita some double glazing."
Gail glanced at her watch. "It's nearly ten o'clock at night!" she exclaimed.
"Is it?" Richard enquired innocently. "Only time to catch her."
Gail frowned. "Hang on. You don't sell double glazing," she pointed out.
Richard's eyes moved erratically again, now trying for a Best Actor award. "The script says I'm diversifying. That's a plot device meaning I'm secretly having an affair with the woman behind your back which you know nowt about," he explained.
"Oh," Gail realised. She smiled. "Well, have fun," she told him.
"I intend to. See you later," he said then let himself out.

Reet let Richard in and they kissed passionately.
"I've missed you," Richard whispered softly.
"Aw, that's sweet," Reet cooed back.
"I enjoy coming round here and being with you," he told her as he held her tight.
"Come round here a lot?" she asked.
"You know I do," he replied, taken aback somewhat.
"I've been off these past 5 weeks," Reet told him. "I've had to catch up with events on t'telly again like everyone else as usual. Not seen much evidence of yer coming to see me. Though yer driving Audrey mad is very good."
Richard smiled proudly. "Thank you."
"Just don't try it on me, that's all" she warned. "Been there, done that, bought the tram that helped make me normal again."
Richard stepped back. "Did you?"
Reet nodded. "It's called the Alan Bradley Express."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Richard assured her.
"I should hope not," she said and led him to the sofa where they snuggled up. "Ricky?" Reet said.
"Yes, Reet?"
"Why won't you let me into the business?"
Richard stroked her hair. "Because you have no sperience," he told her softly.
Reet sat up. "I do too have sperience," she replied, totally insulted.
"Like what?" he asked.
"Well," she started. "I can sing and I can dance and I can tell jokes and I can weigh out a pound of toffees exactly."
Richard shook his head. "I'm sorry, Reet."
Reet was upset. "Ricky Hillman, you don't love me."
"I do too love you, honey," said said. "I just dunt want you to be involved."
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, " Reet wailed.
He hated to see her cry. "Okay, honey, okay," he placated.
She sniffed. "Yer'll give me a go?" she sniffed, wide-eyed.
"ONE go,"he stated firmly.
She threw her arms around him. "Oh, Ricky, you're wonderful!"
"I know," Richard replied, grinning smugly.
She released him. "I've got yer summat," she said and went to fetch it. When she returned she handed it over. "Well, open it."
"You shouldn't have," Richard replied as he opened the wrapping. "Bongos!" he cried excitedly. "Just what I always wanted. Thank you." He stood and kissed her.
"Just don't start playing Babalu," she warned.

The next morning in The Kabin, Reet was touching up her make-up while it was quiet when a man walked in. She put her mascara down and smiled. "Can I help yer at all?"
"Mrs Jojita?" the man enquired.
"That's right," Reet replied, smiling.
"I'm Mr Mooney. The Post Office sent me." Reet looked blankly.
"Oh," she said flatly. "Owt wrong?"
The man looked around. "I'm afraid I have to warn you, Mrs Jojita," he told her frankly, "that if you don't get CCTV installed we'll take your Post Office away. You have one week."
Reet was livid. "Those things cost money, yer know," she retorted.
"Get it done or we'll take your stamps off you. I'll be back next week. Goodbye, Mrs Jojita."
Reet was shocked. "Oh, Mr Moooooooooneyyyyyyyyyy!" she wailed as he walked out.
Norris came from out back carrying mugs of tea. "We need a new kettle," he noted.
"More expense!" Reet cried. "Yer forgot the biscuits." She went out back and slipped on spilt tea.
Norris put the mugs down and went to her. "Have an accident?" he asked, trying to help her up.
"No thanks. Just had one," she replied, holding his tie to pull herself up. She looked at the mess. "Can't yer ever clean up?" she snapped.
"I-I was about to," he stammered. "What's wrong, Reet?"
"The Post Office say I've got to get CCTV," she moaned, waving her arms about. "In a WEEK! Where am I going to get that sort of money from?"
Norris rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Your bank account?" he suggested.
Reet glared. "That money's for necessities, idiot, not luxuries!" she barked. "There's nowt else for it. I'll have to cut yer wages to pay for it."
Norris was incensed. "You already pay me less than the minimum wage per month, Reet," he pointed out.
"Far more than yer worth," she replied dismissively.
Norris was hurt. "Anyway, what necessities do you need to spend your millions on?" he asked.
"Booze, clothes, make-up, getting me hair done, holidays. The usual thing," she replied airily. "Well, Norris, don't worry. Next week's script apparently says I have it put in, so the Post Office stays."
Norris fiddled with his pen. "How do you know? You're not in it next week?"
"Patsy and Screen told me!" she yelled, then pulled herself together. "Right, I'm done again. Time to go home and catch up on me millions of fan mail. Isn't it great to be adored by the public? Oh, sorry, Norris. I forgot. Yer aren't, are you?" Norris said nothing. Reet continued. "See yer in 8 weeks. Ta-ra!"

To be continued...

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 7

Reet sat in her flat, Secret Diary of Rita Littlewood-Fairclough-Sullivan-Jojita, aged 70 and even closer to 71 in her hand, running her fingers through her tresses as she thought. She'd had green streaks added. But after Norris asked if she was going mouldy, clonked him one and promptly had it changed to pink. She began to write: Ashley. Kevin. Richard. So useful their time off leaves me with at least one fella. Oh, if only the rest of the street knew. That'll teach them to just read their own scenes. No wonder they're all so ignorant round here! Maria the maneater? Pah! Never will be a patch on me. A mere young pretender. Must get a new hubby. Getting fed up with Jojita, but don't want to go back to Sullivan. Also down to me last £74 million. Practically destitute! She stopped, sure she'd heard something. "Babaluuuu! Baaabaaaluuuuu! Babaluuuu-ai-aye! Babaluuuu ai-aye." She smiled. That was Richard's signal to let her know he was on his way after she'd relented and agreed to let him learn the song since he wanted to so badly on his sparkling new bongos. She put her diary away and opened the door for him.

Meanwhile Richard was outside Reet's front door when his mobile rang. He answered it when he saw who the caller was. "I thought I told you never to ring me when I'm at word, Padders," he told the greatest love of his life after himself, Paddington bear. "We'll be together soon, I promise. I have to go. Love you too. Goodnight." He switched the phone off and went in, only to be greeted passionately by Reet. Now he felt confused. His feelings for the bear put to one side. "Wow!" he gasped, eyes moving erratically. "Oh, Reet," he said softly. "I can't believe that after more than 20 years of loving you, I finally have you."
Reet was confused. "What yer talking about? We only met after Alma's funeral."
Richard led her to the sofa and held her hand, trying to look her in the eyes, only his own wouldn't cooperate. "I have a confession to make, Reet," he told her earnestly.
"Oh, aye?" Reet asked warily, raising an eyebrow. "And what's that, Ricky?"
"I'm not really Richard Hillman."
Reet removed her hand. "Who are yer then?"
"Do you remember Don Worthington?" he asked.
"The social worker?"
Richard nodded. "I'm him," he said proudly.
"Yer can't be!" Reet exclaimed. "Though I wasn't able to say you reminded me of him as we're given amnesia when an actor returns in another role." Reet stood and crossed the room. "I don't understand," she began, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips. "If yer Don Worthington, what's all this Richard Hillman stuff?"
"I heard what Alan Bradley had done to you and I wanted to be like him. He's my hero," he explained beaming.
Reet was appalled. "Well, yer certainly doing a good job!" she yelled.
At that moment the door burst open. "A pale imitation!" a voice boomed.
Reet looked round. "Alan! she cried. "But it can't be. Yer dead!"
Alan sneered as he walked slowly into the room. "Not any more. This is soap!"
"Er... drama serial," Reet reminded him.
"Oh yeah. Anyway they've decided to resurrect me to show this imbecile what a real baddie is like, and how he should behave and, more importantly, dress!"
Reet was afraid. "Are yer going to try and kill me again?"
Alan laughed. "Don't I always? Drove you round the twist an' all, didn't I, eh?"
Reet breathed a sigh of relief. "That's all right then. See yer, Ricky. The King is back!"

A few weeks later, Reet summoned Ashley over. He noticed she looked a bit bigger. "What's up?" he squeaked, pouting as usual.
"I'm pregnant," she declared.
Ash was stunned. "You can't be! How?"
"How do I know?" she shrieked.
"But it don't say that in the script," he told her.
"Course it does," she replied, picking up hers from the coffee table. "Look, it clearly says: Reet - I'm... Oh, pregnant pause!" she laughed. "Silly me." She pulled the cushion from under her jumper and threw it back on the chair. "Sorry. Can we go again?" She cleared her throat. "I'm...sorry, Ash. I'm afraid I don't want to see yer anymore."
Ash re-acted his stunned expression. "You don't mean that, Reet. Please don't end it," he begged.
"Sorry," she repeated coldly. "There's someone else."
Ash felt the room spinning as he came to terms with what she'd said, and wished he'd not let Fred talk him into those 20 pints before coming over. "Who?" he managed to get out.
"Never yer mind. Bye, Ash." She turned away from him and he left with a heavy heart, determined it was not over.

A while later, Reet was making herself beautiful, singing along and dancing to the LP on the turntable. "And then he dims the lights, da da da dum, da da da dum," she warbled as she put her earrings on. "And then he holds me tight, da da da dum, da da da dum. Each kiss a sweet caress, will lead the way to happiness. He takes me to paradise. He takes me to paradise. Yeah. He takes me to paradise." The intercom buzzed as she ran to it with one shoe on, pressed the button and greeted her visitor very passionately. "Oh, Alan," she whispered.
"Oh, Reet," he breathed as they kissed passionately again. "They only brought me back for you to give you something to do," he told her when they came up for air.
"I know," she replied, smiling sweetly. "And yer much better than a stupid mutt."
"Let's get married," he suggested.
"Yes," Reet whispered.
Alan was in shock. "Yes? I was expecting you to turn me down again. You did it twice before."
"3rd time lucky," she replied. "But I want yer to sign a pre-nuptial agreement, and yer'll not get a penny when I die," she stated firmly then added, "Not that I will, since I'm immortal."
Alan pulled her closer. "Anything. I'm nowt without you, Reet." They kissed passionately again.

The following afternoon they were married. As Alan waited in the car to take her awy for their honeymoon to somewhere they had loads of cheap booze, which were always her favourite places, she took out The Secret Diary of Rita Littlewood-Fairclough-Sullivan-Jojita-Bradley, aged 70-and-a-bit-more and wrote the latest entry: Married Alan. At least I've got a new name now. Rita Jojita was getting ridiculous. Made sure I kept all me money and he buys all the drinks. Also thrown all the cushions out. I may be daft but I'm not stupid. Nice to know I have a rich husband who not only won the pools, but a rollover, rollover on the lottery when it were called that. Nowhere near as much as Javi, but it'll do for now. Gotta go. Cheap booze awaits! She put her diary away and left.

Maria came out of the pub and spotted Alan waiting in the car.
"Who's that gorgeous bloke?" she asked Fiz.
"Dunno," Fiz shrugged and walked off.
"That's Alan Bradley," Ken piped up, eyebrow raised and running his fingers through his locks as he too walked off.
"Alan Bradley, eh?" Maria said to herself since no one wanted to speak to her. "Must add that to my list when I get through the alphabet."

To be continued...

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 8

Reet staggered into the Kabin, Alan close behind. She'd really enjoyed her honeymoon. And couldn't get enough of the cheap booze there, duty free and free stuff on the plane. "We're back Norris!" she announced.
Norris looked up and dropped the money he was handing to Emily. "You've done it again," he noted. "Who are you meant to be now?"
"Can't yer guess?" Reet asked. Norris shook his head. "I'll give yer a clue." She turned to Alan. "If yer want me, just whistle. Yer know how to whistle, don't yer, Iron? You just put yer lips together and blow." She looked at Norris, eyebrow raised hopefully.
"You called him Iron, Reet," he pointed out.
"I know I did," she replied smiling.
"But his name's Alan," he pointed out again.
"I do know that," she told him sternly. "Iron's my pet name for him. In't it, love?"
Alan placed his manly hands on her shoulders. "Course it is. Ever since she called me that when she confronted me about the deeds. She calls me Iron all the time," he said.
"Slip of the tongue when trying to press me point," she admitted. She smiled at him and they kissed.
"Oh," said Norris flatly.
"Well?" Reet asked impatiently. "Guessed who we are yet?"
He picked up the change from the floor and gave it to Emily.
"Bogart and Bacall," Emily butted in. "Sorry," she added.
"No need to be, Emily," Reet told her, waving her hand dismissively. "Come on, love," she whispered softly to Alan. "Let's get this lot upstairs and break open the duty free!"

A couple of days later, Alan and Reet went to the Rovers for dinner. Everyone was shocked by their new look, except Maria who fancied him even more. Reet noticed as Alan ordered.
"My goodness," Ken piped up. "It's Sonny and Cher!"
"Well done, Ken," Reet acknowledged. "And since everyone who's in today's episode is in the same place, I have an announcement to make."
"What's that, Reet?" Fred asked, trying to avert his gaze from her outfit.
"I've bought a little boat," she began. "It's still being built. But when it is, I'd like to invite yer all to join me on its maiden voyage." Everyone expressed their gratitude.
"Does this boat have a name?" Deirdre asked her.
"It does," Reet replied beaming. "Though it will be changed shortly. It's currently known as the Queen Mary 2."
"That's not a little boat," Roy gasped. "It's a cruise liner!"
Reet nodded. "Me very own so I won't have to give them any more of me money, and people will have to pay me. When it's launched it will be known as Queen Reet. Cheers!" As she drank and left everyone in shock, she took Alan to one side. "Maria fancies yer," she told him in hushed tones. "Not that I blame her, mind."
"So I gathered," Alan replied. "She really must wear a bib if she's going to drool like that in public."
"What about yer?" Reet asked suspiciously.
"What do I want her for when I've got you, babe?" he said.
"I've gooot youuuu, babe," they crooned together then finished their drinks and went home.

Reet and Alan had been to Blackpool for a nostalgic trip down memory lane, and tripped over quite a few people as they strolled down it. While Alan was having a staring contest with Richard in the Rovers to see who was the best baddie ever to walk the cobbles with a dead ex-wife called Patricia, Reet sailed into the Kabin, hair a tight wavy red perm. "I've turned my back on the motel," she declared wistfully. "My life there is finished."
Norris was confused. "What motel?" he asked, fiddling with his pen.
"I know now I've opted out I feel happier," Reet continued, blissfully unaware he'd spoken, glancing out of the corner of her eye at the camera faking sincerity.
"Opted out of what?" Norris demanded, getting increasingly irritated. "You own The Kabin!"
"Time to go, darling," Reet sad sadly.
"Oh, Reet," Norris gushed. "I never knew you felt that way about me."
Reet snapped out of her reverie. "I don't, moron!" she barked, clonking him one. "It's called acting! Oh, I give up with yer. I'm going to find Alan. Yer just don't appreciate my talents!" With that she stormed out slamming the door behind her, which blew his precious magazines onto the floor.

In the Rovers, Alan and Richard had been staring at each other for over three hours and a crowd had gathered. Reet walked in and was glued watching who would crack first too.

Later on a punk girl walked into The Kabin as Norris was counting the toffee whirls. He watched her as first she looked at the cards by the door then started flicking through the magazines. He did wish Reet wouldn't keep leaving him to run the place on his own and would pull her weight instead of just raking in the profits. The girl started to mess up his display even more which made him enraged. He went over.
"Right, young lady. Out this minute!" he ordered, grabbing her arm.
"Gerroff, grandad!" the girl barked back.
"Reet!" Norris exclaimed in utter shock.
"Course it is, nitwit," she replied, removing his arm. "Who'd yer think it were? Emily Bishop?"
"What are you dressed like that for?" Norris asked aghast. "It's not Halloween."
"Watch it, Cole," Reet warned. "I fancied a change. What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing at all," Norris conceded. "But you're making a habit of this. Couldn't you just have a new hairdo or something?"
"I have!" she shrieked.
"You know what I mean," he explained.
"Oh, don't be so boring, grandad," she told him. "I feel like rebelling," she declared, promptly throwing the magazines over her shoulder.
"Reet!" he yelled. "Stop that this instant!"
She sneered at him. "Why should I? My shop. I'll do what I like."
"Yes," he pointed out, "but I'm the one who'll have to clean it all up."
Reet pulled a face. "Oh, shurrup moaning and get a life, grandad."
Norris was livid. "Right! That's it!" he said, stamping his feet out back and getting his coat.
"Where are yer going?" she asked. "Away from this madhouse," he told her. "I'll be back when you start acting normal again."
"Dull, yer mean," she retorted.
"Normal I said, Reet, and normal I meant," he said before leaving.
"Have a happy retirement then!" she shouted after him.
At that moment Alan appeared having stared Richard out of town. "Has he gone?" he asked.
Reet beamed. "At last!" she sighed and went to him. They kissed passionately. "Now it's just yer and me running the shop, darling," she said softly before they embraced. Reet was smiling contentedly. Alan was smiling as he plotted...

To be continued...

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 9

A car came down the road and screeched to a halt in front of Scarlett Littlewood-Fairclough-Sullivan-Jojita-Bradley, an arm emerging from the window and grabbing Mr Woo.
"I'll have my wig back, ta very much," barked Bet before the car sped off round the corner.
Scarlett breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks goodness that hairy fleabag's gone," she said to herself. "Now perhaps the viewers will return. Thanks, Patsy and Screen. Give yourselves a pay rise!"

In the Rovers, Rhett Bradley was drinking alone. Maria spotted him and went over. "Mind if I join you?" she asked. Rhett grinned.
"My pleasure," he replied quietly then winked.

Meanwhile Scarlett shut the shop, hitched up her ruffles and went to the pub. She was shocked to see Rhett and Maria laughing and decided to eavesdrop.
"You're gorgeous," Maria purred.
"I know, "Rhett replied.
"I mean, you're REALLY gorgeous," Maria gushed.
"I know," Rhett repeated grinning.
"I really fancy you," Maria told him.
"Most women do," he bragged.
"Doing owt later?" she asked.
"Not really. I'm sure I can make up and excuse. Reet'll believe anything I tell her. She always has," he said proudly.
Scarlett was shocked and flounced out after freeing her hooped skirt from the doorway. Emily and Norris had seen her.
"I think I should go after her," Emily said.
"Oh, leave her to it, Emily," Norris replied. "She's obviously flipped again. It's no wonder Alan's looking elsewhere."
"I just don't want her to something silly," Emily told him.
"Like what?" he asked.
"Like go to Blackpool, have Alan follow and play tag with the tram again," she explained. "Alan always comes out the loser," she added then left.
Norris sipped his orange juice, occasionally glancing over at Alan and Maria giggling and despairing what Reet would do next.

At the flat, Scarlett was miserable and had finished her 4th bottle of vodka by the time Emily arrived a couple of minutes later. "I do declare," she wailed, "he's at it again!"
"I'm sure it's nothing more than a meaningless flirtation," Emily tried assuring her.
"Oh, rubbish, Emily!" Scarlett snapped. "Yer saw what it were. Well, I won't lose me money - I mean, me man to that...that..."
"Quite," Emily added diplomatically.
"What am I do to?" wailed Reet. "How can I get him to only have eyes for me again?"
Emily pondered for a while. "I know the very thing," she told her smiling.

An hour later the doors of the Rovers opened as Reet walked in. Silence and jaws fell when they saw her new look.
"Wow!" gasped Fred, and Ashley realised he was missing her.
Reet sashayed in her 3-inch heels to the booth where Alan and Maria were engrossed and stopped in front of them. Alan looked up slowly. "Tell us about it, stud," she breathed.
"Sorry, Maria," he began then turned to Reet, stood, held her hand and continued, "You're the one that I want."
"Ooh, ooh, ooh, honey," the crowd chorused which made Reet delighted and Maria sulk at the thought she wasn't the Street's most glamorous woman as her talking mirror told her she was.

Reet was relaxing on her cruise having sent Maria back to Weatherfield since she tried to hook all the blokes on board, much to Reet's annoyance. The silence was broken by a loud beeping on her watch. She pressed the button and was shocked at what Kabincam was showing from her flat. Maria couldn't keep her hands off Alan. She picked up her state-of-the-art mobile and dialled. "I'm coming back," she firmly told the person on the other end. "And I want words with Patsy and Screen. I'll be there in five minutes." She switched off the phone, headed for the funnel, stepped inside and it disappeared.

Meanwhile Maria was back in her own flat having made a date with Alan and was looking at her compact. "Mirror, mirror in my hand. Who's the most gorgeous man-magnet in the land?" she asked it.
"What a stupid question," the mirror replied. "It's Reet Littlewood-Fairclough-Sullivan-Jojita-Bradley, stupid. Everyone knows that. It's part of her job description."
Maria was irritated. "Oh, shut up!" she ordered.
At that moment Toyah entered the room. "People'll think you're mad if they see you talking to your hand," she said, looking at everything but Maria.
"Just like Reet!" the mirror butted in.
"I told you to shut up!" Maria yelled then snapped it shut.
"I'll have that Alan Bradley and Reet won't stop me." she vowed.
Toyah was speechless, mainly because her next line had blown away.

Over at the Peacock's, Ashley was pining for Reet. Seeing her dressed as a redheaded Olivia Newton-John had made him sit up and take notice again, and was determined he'd not let her slip away again. He gazed lovingly at the photo of her as she walked into the Rovers, despite no one having a camera at the time, and counted the days till she returned.

In the office, Patsy and Screen were watching the England game. Michael scored which made them cheer and they rushed to the statue in the corner to worship at its feet. "All praise the Great One!" they chanted in unison. "All hail St Reet of the Vodka!"
"Yer can worship me all you like in a minute," they heard a familiar face boom. "I've got a bone to pick with yer first."
Screen and Patsy trembled as they slowly got to their feet and faced Reet. "What are you doing here?" Patsy asked nervously. "You're supposed to be on the cruise."
Screen nodded and added, "We should know since we wrote it."
"I did read it," Reet hissed. "I'll go back in a minute." She took a deep breath. "I'm not happy with the way things are going between Alan and Maria and I want it stopped," she told them as she paced.
"That's nothing to do with us," Patsy stated.
"That's right," continued Screen. "We're trying to keep them apart."
Reet slowly made her way towards them making them cower. "I want her gone," Reet ordered in hushed tones. "In fact, I want every female character under the age of 40 out of here now!"
"How?" Screen asked.
"That's yer department," Reet pointed out. "Just get rid of them or I'll get rid of yer."
Patsy and Screen nodded.
"Good," said Reet, backing off slightly. "Now, write me a couple of scenes to do while I'm here, then I'll be on my way back to me little boat."
Patsy and Screen rushed to their keyboards, typed and printed.
"Cheers," Reet said as she grabbed the print-offs. "Ta-ra," she added as she swept out of the room.
Patsy and Screen sat back relieved.
"Thank goodness she never mentioned the water turning into vodka," Screen breathed. "She'd be after all the profits!"

Reet strolled down Ritanation Street and bumped into Audrey. "Reet!" she shrieked excitedly. "I thought you were on your cruise."
"Just a flying visit," Reet informed her.
"Like my new jacket?" Audrey asked, proudly showing it off. "Richard bought it me."
Reet didn't know what to say. "Very nice," she eventually got out. "But are yer sure the sleeves are supposed to tie up at the back?"
Audrey's response was interrupted by a horse approaching. They looked round and Reet's mouth fell open when she saw the rider.
"Ted!" she gasped.
The horse drew up beside her. "Sir Lancelot at your service, my Lady Guinevere," Ted announced, bowing in his armour and trying to stay on the horse.
"What are yer doing here?" Reet asked quietly. "Yer dead."
Ted smiled. "Ah, well I heard Len and Alan were coming back from the grave, so I thought I would too," he casually told her.
Reet beamed at her perfect gentleman. "Fancy a cruise?" she asked, that twinkle in her eye.
Ted nodded and helped her mount the horse. As they were about to set off, a UFO hovered overhead and sucked up all the female characters under 40 as Reet wanted before flying off and depositing them in Brookside Close. Reet grinned broadly as she and Ted headed back towards the funnel, entered and reappeared on board the Queen Reet.

To be continued...

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 10

Several weeks later and Bernice from Emmerdale had been after Ted. Once he recovered, Reet quickly got him out of the other redhead's man mad clutches and decided to take him away on a cruise to recuperate. She took her trusty friends and former lovers with her to help pass the time when Ted was feeling too tired. She was enjoying the fact Ted and Len fought over her. In fact, she enjoyed it so much, she decided as she flicked through her little black book listing every adult male still breathing in Weatherfield, that Alan should join them. As she lounged on the sundeck in her micro bikini, Alan dropped from the sky with a splash. "Don't look like rain," she casually remarked, holding out her hand as she looked as the clear blue sky then opened her gold lamé brolly just to be on the safe side. "Mavis, get me me mac quick," she continued.
"Help! Help!" she heard. "I can't swim!"
Reet looked round as she sucked on the straw in her pint of vodka slammer and peered over her shades. "Oh, it's yer, Alan," she called. "Don't worry, love. Your ego will save yer." She shivered as a chill wind appeared from nowhere and it began to cloud over.
Mavis returned. "I've brought your mac," she twittered. "And this brown dress to put on since it's suddenly got cold."
Reet removed her sunglasses. "Where did this come from?" she gasped.
"Well," Mavis began explaining, "since you had to return all Betty's clothes, wardrobe dug out a few of your old ones for you to wear until they can be bothered to go shopping. There's even that blue and white outfit you planned on wearing to Jenny's party." She stopped to catch her breath, not used to long speeches with no rehearsal these days since she was merely a guest star. She held it up while Alan came over.
"That brings back memories," he observed. "I'd have been fine and reasonable if you'd not worn that horrible thing, Reet."
Reet sighed. "I'm not wearing those! I want Patsy and Screen to take over wardrobe too!" she roared. "Give me me mac." Mavis handed it over and Reet slipped it on. "Ugh!" she said, face contorting as she pulled mouldy fish fingers, burgers and apple cores from the pockets. "Kindly tell Roy this is a coat not a bin bag!" she ordered as she dropped the last sticky crisp packet onto the deck.
Suddenly everything went quiet. Reet noticed everyone looking towards the funnel and followed their gaze. Something was cycling towards them from the clouds holding and industrial fan.
"Tricky Dicky!" Reet gasped as he landed, chained his bike to a sunlounger and removed the cycle clips from his trousers. A gale howled as he pointed the fan in her direction.
"Sorry to mess up your hair like this," he calmly said as she held on for dear life. "Though I'm sure the 100 cans of laquer you use daily will keep it in place."
"What do yer want, Richard?" Reet struggled to get out, her hands gripping the rail tighter. "I was just about to get me legs waxed."
"I said you hadn't heard the last of me," he told her, eyes rolling about. "Goodbye."
He switched the fan up to the next level and Reet was blown into the air. Her beloved mac was caught in a jetstream and inflated. Richard laughed manically as she drifted further away.
"Bye bye, Reet. Pleasant journey," he shouted.
Reet engaged her brain and began to glide through the air, flying over her pride and joy. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw a seagull heading straight for her. She closed them, heard a hiss and felt herself falling, eventually landing with a thud. "Oh dear," she said quietly to herself, checking her hair to make sure it was still in shape. "This coat has GOT to go!" She looked round at the shocked faces of her fellow passengers. "Where's Richard?" They all pointed to the deck and she looked down, lifting her mac. "Ah, there yer are. Comfy?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "I know I am." Richard groaned in defeat, determined this would not be the end of it. "Right, throw him in the brig," Reet instructed.
"Er... We haven't got one of those," Roy stammered.
"Steerage class then. I'm going to get me legs done. Then, once he's safely locked up until we can find a nice deserted island somewhere, we can get on with the cruise!" she said cheerfully, holding her hands out for Alan, Len or Ted to haul her up. Alan and Len were too busy arguing about who fancied themselves the most so Ted did it. Reet beamed and kissing her perfect gentleman. "Nice to see yer feeling better, darling," she cooed. "Bring us another pint of vodka slammer. I'll be in the Stateroom," she whispered in his ear before sweeping away. Ted looked at his two rivals, smiled then followed. Reet got Captain Birdseye to steer the ship back to Weatherfield, and was looking forward to celebrating the mutt's exit with Ted.

Halloween night down Ritanation Street, and the three witches had gathered.
"When shall we three meet again?" cackled the grey one.
"Same time tomorrow?" suggested the redhead.
"Fine," said the dyed blondish one. "See you tomorrow, Reet."
"Yes," added Blanche. "And no need to bring over your mixing bowl. I'm sure Deirdre has one somewhere, so I'll do the baking."
Reet nodded. "Right. Though yer can always borrow mine or Emily's if Deirdre's used hers as a plant pot or summat."
The phone rang.
"We'll see ourselves out," Emily said.
Reet watched them go then answered the phone. "Yes?"
"Hello, Mrs Bradley," said the caller. "Popstars: The Rivals here."
Reet beamed in excitement. "When do yer want me?" she asked impatiently.
"Err... Never," came the reply.
"What?!" Reet exclaimed. "But I was picked!"
"I'm afraid you've been deemed unsuitable to be part of a boy band. Sorry." They hung up.
"Well!" Reet was insulted and slammed the phone down. She shivered. "Must shut that window," she muttered to herself.
"Hallo, Reet," called Fred. "Can yer help me? I see to have got stuck while trying to fly in."
"What yer doing that for?" she asked puzzled. "I do have a front door, you know."
"Well it would've been fine, only my cape's snagged on summat," he explained.
Reet sighed and went to help him.
"Oof!" he puffed as he fell through and landed on the floor. "Champion," he said as he adjusted his cape.
"What are yer doing here, Fred?" she asked.
"I've come for a drink. That's what vampires do. Break into a lady's boudoir when they want a bit," he explained.
"But this is the living room," Reet pointed out.
"Not my fault you glued your bedroom window shut," he replied solemnly. "So, this drink."
"One tomato juice coming up," she said as she headed for the kitchen.
"Are you trying to poison me?" he cried. "Oh, forget it," he continued as he got to his feet. "I'll try elsewhere." And with that, he spread his cape and flew back out.
She shrugged, closed the window and switched on the telly. "In one hour," the voiceover went," you'll get the chance to see a live edition of Stars in Their Eyes only on the glossy new-look ITV1. Now, yet another cheapo-rubbish docusoap to fill the time."
Reet switched it off and her eyes glinted as she got an idea. She went over to the Rovers. "If anyone wants me," she announced to the packed, drunken masses, "I'll be in the main building behind the set. Watch ITV1 in an hour and be surprised."
"What are you going to do?" squeaked Ashley.
"Be famous!" she declared. "Don't forget now, like we all did during Norris's big moment. So no playing darts!" With that she glided out.
"I get the feeling she's been on the peppermints again," noted Norris.

In the Granada building, Reet collared Matthew Kelly. "I want to go on tonight," she ordered.
"As what?" he asked.
She whispered in his ear and he burst out laughing. "You're kidding?"
Reet glared. "Do I look like I am?"
"You'll sound nothing like her," he told her.
"99% of those you have on now sound nowt like who they're meant to, so what's the odds?" she countered.
He couldn't disagree. "Sorry," he began. "We've already got our 5 nearly-sound-a-likes."
"But I own this building!" Reet shrieked. "I pay yer wages!"
"Tough," he replied.
At that moment one of the contestants came along groaning. "Ooh, I feel ill," he moaned. "I can't go on tonight. Where's the loo?"
Reet smirked to herself.
"Very convenient," Matthew mumbled suspiciously. "Looks like we have a vacancy. Go down there and get kitted out. I'll see you later."
After she was sure he was out of sight, Reet punched the air as she made her way towards wardrobe. Her canteen catering was working.

In the Rovers, everyone was gathered around the bar watching the TV as the script directed, nibbling away on the canteen food. They were surprised to see Reet as the 4th contestant, and it took their mind off feeling a bit under the weather.
"And who are you going to be?" they saw Matthew ask her, forcing himself to be cheerful.
Reet grinned. "Tonight, Matthew," she replied, "I'm going to be Breetney Spears."
"Yes, local paper shop tycoon and much-married billionairess Reet Littlewood-Fairclough-Sullivan-Jojita-Bradley is Breetney Spears!" he announced.
Reet waved and went through the doors. By the magic of dramatic licence, she emerged seconds later in plaits and a school uniform coughing. "I thought this was a non-smoking studio!" she barked as the intro started. "Oh, baby, baby," she crooned. Everyone in the pub just stared at the screen in shock, except Ashley who, not having any of the pies or nuts, was able to leave so slipped out. Once she finished, she went backstage and waited for the last contestant to do their bit then the result of the vote.
"The winner of tonight's Stars in Their Eyes live Halloween special is..." Matthew began. "Breetney Spears?" he revealed confused.
Reet gushed and returned to the studio, chatted to him then reprised her performance.
Matthew left completely baffled, while Ash entered beaming. "Fancy a milkshake?" he asked.
"As long as yer don't pull me pigtails," she replied before they kissed passionately.
They went out to the car park. Ash popped Bella on the back of the broomstick, they got on, Reet kickstarted it and they zoomed off into the moonset before running out of petrol and hitting a tree, sending them crashing to the ground.
"Oh well," shrugged Reet. "We'll all be back to normal tomorrow. Probably." She winked.

To be continued...

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 11

Ted and Reet decided to go for a drive. "Where's your car?" he asked as he looked round.
Reet shrugged. "Budget cuts," she remarked. "Can't remember the last time I even saw it."
"Bit daft in't it having us go out for the day with no transport?" he frowned.
"Don't worry," she assured. "Patsy and Screen have got Dres working on it as we speak. Money will be no object, so we can have overseas filming again and I finally get my Porsche. There's Dev. Let's see if we can borrow his." Ted followed as she crossed the cobbles.
"Course you can. Here's the keys," Dev told them cheerily. "Have a lovely time."
"We will," beamed Reet then roared off 0-60 in 3 seconds.
Dev looked bewildered. "Now what made me do that?" he asked himself, scratching his head. "I never let anyone near my baby." He shrugged and returned inside the shop to push the chocolate chip cookies since he'd now bought 50 boxes.

Reet and Ted hurtled along through the wilds of Weatherfield. Suddenly the car veered out of control near the Red Rec. Reet hit the brakes, they got out and had a look.
"A flat. Typical," Reet observed annoyed.
Ted checked the boot. "Typical Dev too. Packed with hair gel, mirrors and chocolate chip cookies but no tyre," he said as he slammed it shut.
Reet looked round. "There's a house over there. Looks like Dracula's castle. Maybe they have a phone."
Ted nodded. "No harm in trying. Let's go. Oh, it's starting to rain." They ran as fast as they could and were nearly knocked over by two bikers heading for the house.
"Yer know," began Reet slowly. "I could've sworn that were Jim McDonald and Dennis Stringer. But Jim's in prison in The Bill and Dennis were in summat on t'other side. Oh well." She shrugged and carried on. When they got to the door they knocked.
Eventually it opened. "Yes?" asked the creepy looking man.
"We wondered if we could use your phone," Ted said.
"Come in, come in," replied the man. "The more the merrier."
Reet and Ted entered the dingy hallway. She frowned. "Yer remind me of Les Battersby," she remarked.
"I'm Riffraff," the man said.
"So's Les," quipped Reet.
"Wheeeeeeeee," went a woman as she slid down the banister.
"Oh, that's my sister Janice," Les told her. "Bet she's got splinters again."
Reet and Ted forced smiles. "Nice," Reet said.
"The Master's having a little do tonight," Les informed them.
"I didn't know we'd strayed into a Dr Who story," Ted noted.
"We haven't," Les pointed out. "Our Master. Mr Furtive. Come on, come on." He led them up some dusty, creaking stairs to the ballroom.
Reet was shocked to see the entire cast doing the Time Warp. "The phone?" she reminded Les.
"Out of order," he replied. "The boss forgot to pay the bill."
Reet and Ted looked at each other while Les jived to the Status Quo he'd just put on the turntable. They slowly backed out of the room.
"This is a madhouse," gasped Ted.
"Welcome to Chez Audrey!" a voice boomed from behind them.
Slowly they turned to see who it belonged to and saw a man wearing a twinset and pearls and a tweed skirt.
"Greetings. My name's Rich 'N' Furtive. Ah, Ken." Ken went over. "Punch?" he asked.
Reet and Ted ducked. "What are yer doing here, Richard?" Reet asked straightening once Ken had gone.
"Well," He said as he fiddled with his necklace. "Now I have had my beloved mother-in-law certified as batty, not to mention all her cash, I'm living life to the full. Like my house? It was going to be a bail hostel/arcade until I had dealings with the councillor who suggested it. Come. Enjoy the party." He pushed past them and tottered into the ballroom on his heels. Reet and Ted wanted to get out of there but Les ushered them back to the others.
"Oh, rockin' all over the world," Les warbled badly while Reet and Ted just looked at each other wondering what fate had in store for them.

A while later in Rich's lab. "I have created the perfect male specimen," he was saying to all the guests. "You two are privileged to witness our secret weapon in the ratings war," he continued to Ted and Reet. "This will get all the teenage girls tuning in and we'll be back up to at least 30 million again!" He laughed manically as he went over to the covered shape and ripped the wrapping paper off. "Behold, our ratings buster!"
"But that's wooden Nick!" Reet scoffed. "Yer a fool, Richard. He's a ratings turn-off."
Rich shook his head in dismay. "You know nowt except how to wed and get rich," he snorted. "Tell her, Nick."
"Um... Er... Um..." Nick said.
"That's all he ever says," Reet snapped back. "And he even has to pause between those words. Face it, Richard. Yer the only mad one in Gail's family."
Rich began to get angry. "You're wrong, Reet," he hissed. "And I'll prove it. Nice outfit by the way. Mind if I borrow it sometime?"
"What?!" Reet screeched.
"I've long admired your taste in clothes," he told her earnestly.
Reet's reply was interrupted by the sound of a motorbike. The freezer door burst open and a biker roared out.
"Freddie!" shrieked Doreen. "I wondered where you'd got to."
He skidded to a halt in front of her. "Hop on. I say, hop on and we'll annoy Rich by making as many skidmarks on his nice clean floor as possible," Freddie suggested. Doreen grinned. "Just don't mess up my hair." She got on, held on tight and they zoomed around the lab. Rich was livid.
"My lovely carpet," he said quietly to himself. "That does it!" He went into the freezer and came out holding something behind his back. By now, Freddie had stopped and he and Doreen were doing the twist. Rich slowly made his way towards him and revealed what he was holding. Freddie's eyes widened in horror and he backed away.
"No, please. Not the nutroast and tofu. Owt but that," he pleaded.
Rich grinned wryly as Freddie backed into the freezer with Rich following. They all heard a scream then Rich emerged, rubber gloves covered in the vegetarian fayre. "That shut him up," he announced. "That stuff's poison to a butcher." He held his arms out and Janice removed the gloves. "Riffraff!" Les ran over.
"Yes, boss?" he replied eagerly.
"Reet and Ted will be staying over. Give them good rooms," Rich instructed.
"But we just wanted to use your phone to call a garage and go!" Ted shouted.
"Well you can't, so there," Rich said, poking his tongue out. "It's my party, and you'll not go if I don't want you to." He went over to Nick. "Right, let me tell you what you'll have to do," he told him as he led him away. "Firstly, we'll have to get you some acting lessons..."
Reet looked desperately at Ted. "He's totally insane," she said, choking back the tears. "If someone doesn't stop him, he'll ruin the programme single-handed."
Ted placed a reassuring hand on her shoulderpad. "Patsy and Screen won't let that happen, love. Trust them, eh?"
"I hope yer right, Ted," she sniffed. "When have they ever let you down?" he asked. "You're already nominated for loads of awards, and they'll get Dres to make sure you win every single one of them."
Reet smiled and nodded. "Yer right," she conceded. "And I do deserve those awards."
Les approached them. "This way," he said and they duly followed.

Reet tried to sleep but sensed someone in her room. "Who's there?" her voice quivered.
"It's me. Ted." came the reply.
She was relieved. "Oh, Ted."
He sat on the bed. "Who did you think it was?"
"That mad Richard," she replied bitterly. "Hang on. What are you doing with me clothes?" Ted laughed manically. "Richard!"
"Don't worry," he told her. "I've left you one of Audrey's frocks. I just had to have yours. Hmm. Silk frillies. Lovely. Sleep well."
With that, he left. Reet sat up, unsure whether to be flattered he liked what she wore, or insulted he thought she'd be glad of one of Audrey's horrible rags and polyester undies. "He needs sorting," she muttered to herself as she picked up the script and flicked through it. "What do I do now? Oh no! They can't seriously expect me to walk around in those things!" She sighed and threw the script across the room. "Oh well. If it fixes him, looks like I've got no choice." She got out of bed, put the clothes on and went to look for Nick. He was fast asleep in the lab, exhausted after having to keep his head still for his first acting lesson. She heard someone coming and hid. She watched as Les went over to Nick and woke him up.
"Don't want your sort in the street. You've already ruined our Leanne's life. Clear off!" He waved a jar of termites in front of him which made him run for his life. Les chuckled then went to the video screen. He pulled the handle. "Jackpot!" he cried.
"What are you on about?" Rich demanded.
"Er...sorry to disturb you, boss," Les continued, embarrassed. "Only your ratings hit's run off as usual. Don't think he could hack talking without having to catch his breath."
"Find him and bring him back!" Rich ordered. "We mustn't let EastEnders beat us! I've never forgiven them for stealing MY Best Newcomer award!"
"Whatever you say, master," replied Les who strolled back out badly singing Quo songs.
Reet emerged from her hiding place and had no idea what to do now. "That certainly weren't in the script," she said, bewildered. At that moment she felt herself being grabbed. "Oi!" she yelled.
"You've...got...to...help...me....Reet," panted Nick.
"Why should I?" she asked, nose firmly in the air. "Yer aren't my type."
"I'm...every...woman's...type!" Nick rebuked. "In yer dreams, sonny," she told him.
"Caught you!" Rich shouted. "How dare you do this to me, Reet!"
"I did nowt, fool!" she snapped as she watched him stroking her beloved cashmere jumper.
"You let him go so you could have him as you next love interest," Rich countered confidentally. "I see it all now."
Reet scowled. "I don't want him. No one does. Not even the viewers, which is the whole point."
At that moment Les came in and threw the termites over Nick. He tried to get them off to no avail and fell down dead.
Rich was stunned. "You've killed our only chance!" he screamed. "And I never got the chance to do the floorshow and climb the Granada sign."
"We should be thankful for small mercies then," piped in Janice.
"But I was going to do my Sally Bowles. Oh, life is a cabaret, old chum..." He stopped when he saw Les was holding something. "What's that?" he stammered nervously.
"Your contract, pal," Les gloated. "And it's just expired."
Rich twitched and rolled his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"We've had enough of you getting the most screen time. Well, no more. Me and Jan are going home."
Rich brightened. "Home? Back to Ritanation Street?" Les nodded. "We're going home," Rich sighed wistfully.
"Er... When I said WE, I meant me and Jan. Not you, mate," Les responded then tore the contract into little bits. "Happy Christmas!" he continued, sprinkling what was left of Rich's lifeline over him.
"No!" Rich gasped in horror. "I'll be back. You can't keep a good baddie down."
"Not if we can help it," replied Les gleefully as he watched Richard collapse onto his plush carpet and breathe his last.
He turned to Reet and Ted. "You'd better get out of here. This house is scheduled to blast off in 30 seconds."
They didn't need to be told twice and belted out of there. Once outside, they watched as the house did indeed blast off and disappear into the wide blue yonder.
"Are you okay?" asked Ted as he put his arm around her.
"Fine," Reet replied breathlessly. "I think I need another holiday."

To be continued...

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 12

Reet and Norris were in her flat watching Florizel Street, their favourite soap. As the credits rolled, Reet went into the kitchen to put the kettle on.
"Find out how to take part in a Barbara Knox look-a-like contest," the voiceover bloke was saying, "to celebrate her 31 years in the soap in just a moment." Norris began to get excited. The credits faded and his favourite star appeared on the screen.
"Hello," Barbara greeted softly. "I'm Barbara Knox. But I'm sure you already knew that." Norris leant forward sighing wistfully as he was mesmerised by her. "And to celebrate my award-winning 31 years in Florizel Street, Greneda Television are inviting you to come to their studios on Saturday and be selected to take part in a live look-a-like competition. The prize is a speaking part opposite me. However, you must look like me to qualify. See you all at the weekend. Goodbye and God Bless." She smiled as her image faded and Norris switched the TV off.
"A Barbara Knox look-a-like competition, eh?" he mused then looked round, grabbed one of Reet's red cushions, held it on his head and admired himself in the mirror. Reet returned carrying a tray and nearly dropped it when she saw what her assistant was up to.
"What are yer doing with me cushion?" "Ah, Reet," Norris replied bashfully, keeping tight hold of the object.
"Th-there was a trailer for a Barbara Knox look-a-like competition after Florizel Street, and I was just seeing what I'd look like with red hair."
Reet put the tray down. "Try finding out what yer'd look like with hair first," she commented.
"There's no need to be unkind Reet," he whined.
Reet sighed. "I don't get what this competition has to do with yer."
"Well, don't you think I have a look of Miss Knox?" he asked sincerely.
"Not really," she replied.
"I-I think you're wrong, Reet," he said and removed the cushion before slowly walking towards her. "You know," he put his finger to his chin," You have a look of Barbara Knox about you."
"Oh rubbish," Reet scoffed.
"Perhaps you ought to go to the studio on Saturday and have a go," he suggested.
"Norris," she began, trying her best not to grab the cushion and stuff it down his throat. "If I look like anyone, it's Stefanie Powers. Now put me cushion back where yer got it from, drink yer tea and get these daft ideas out yer head before Audrey offers to lend yer her strait-jacket." Norris did as ordered while Reet rolled her eyes. "Barbara Knox look-a-like indeed," she tutted as he sipped quietly. "I've never heard owt so daft in all me born days."

Saturday arrived and Reet was annoyed.
"On your own?" Emily observed.
"Yes," Reet was testy. "That flamin' Norris hasn't turned up. Do yer know what's keeping him, Emily?"
"I'm in much in the dark as you, Reet," Emily shrugged. "Though I did hear him singing Embraceable You in the bathroom this morning."
Reet rearranged the toffee whirls into a floral pattern in the jar. "Well, when yer see him, will yer tell him if he's not here by dinner, he's sacked?"
Emily clutched her handbag straps. "I'm not going home," she informed her. "I'm off to do some fundraising for the Friends of Weatherfield Hospital. Martin Platt is such a deserving cause. Goodbye."
"Bye, Emily," Reet said quietly. She looked at the toffee whirls and rearranged them into a chicken. She looked up when she heard the door open and saw a woman enter furtively. "Can I help yer? Norris?"
"I do hope no one saw me," he replied as he looked around.
"Halloween were last month. What yer dressed up like that for? Always thought yer were a bit strange."
Norris stood in front of the counter. "Don't talk about the greatest actress who ever lived like that, Reet. Show more respect," he was insulted.
"Now what yer going on about? Get that lot off and get into the Post Office!" she ordered. "Oh, and keep away from my wardobe. Not having yer getting your thrills wearing me bloomers.
Norris rose to his full height and puffed out his chest.
Reet was not impressed. "Yer want a pair of socks down there, chuck."
Norris was getting annoyed. "You've obviously forgotten today is the auditions for the Barbara Knox look-a-like competition."
Reet despaired. "Oh, that. I'd hoped yer'd have forgotten all about it by now."
"Not a chance. I want to meet Miss Knox. She's the bee's knees," he grinned.
"Well, best hope she's not got a nasty sting in her kick then," Reet retorted.
"Philistine!" Norris spat. Reet was shocked. "I'll be back later to tell you how I got on," he added before leaving.
"Can't wait(!)" Reet said to herself then ate part of her toffee whirl chicken.

Several hours later, Reet had got through the toffee whirls and was on the nut clusters.
Fred walked in. "Afternoon, Reet," he boomed cheerfully."
She swallowed and coughed. "Do yer have to be so happy?"
"What's up?" he asked.
"I'm worried about Norris, and I always eat when I fret," she replied, biting into another.
"What's he done now?" Fred rolled his eyes at the thought of the answer.
"Oh, he's gone to this Barbara Knox look-a-like thing. He's obsessed!" she told him.
"What's he gone to that for? He looks nowt like her," he said.
"Well, he's convinced he does. Thinks I do an' all," she told him desperately.
"There's more resemblance between you and her than her and him," he stated.
"Don't yer flamin' start!" she yelled. At that moment Norris returned, head bowed. "About time. What happened?" she asked, noticing his mood.
"They didn't want me," he was on the brink of tears.
"What did they say?" Fred jumped in while Reet carried on crunching.
"That I wasn't eligible because I'm a man," Norris replied, wiping away a tear.
"What rubbish!" Reet snorted. "Haven't they heard of drag queens?"
"That's what I told them," Norris sniffed.
"And what did they say?" asked Fred.
"Haven't you heard of security? Oh, Reet," he sniffed again.
"Well, what did Barbara Knox have to say about all this?" she asked.
"Barbara Knox wasn't even there. She's only judging the final tomorrow apparently. I so wanted to meet her. My life's ruined!" Norris wailed then buried his head in an embarrassed Fred's chest.
"Er...there, there," Fred said as he forced himself to pat his head.
Reet was livid. "The cheek of them!" she snapped. "Can yer hold the fort, Fred?"
"Where you going?" he asked.
"To see that Barbara Knox and tell her what's what," she explained.
Norris raised his head and Fred quickly moved away. "But you can't, Reet," Norris implored. "She's a big star!"
Reet returned from the back with her lovely brown coat with fake fur collar and bag. "I don't care if she's the Great Bear!" she yelled. "I may have thought yer were a prat doing this, Norris. But even yer deserve a fair crack at it. And I'm going to tell her straight."
"What time will you be back?" Fred called after her. "Only I've a delivery at three."
"I'll be back well before then," she replied.
"Yeah, when they won't let you in," Norris added.
"They'll let me in," Reet declared matter-of-factly. "Believe me!" And she was gone.
"Oh dear," Norris said. "Poor Miss Knox."
"Aye," Fred agreed, nodding solemnly.

To be continued....

[Jade]

That took me ages to read... Well worth it though. It's bad enough Reet and Ash never mind Kev as well! I see you make an apperance there Patsy... LOL! Some wacky and wonderful ideas! You obviuosly have the nack for this!

[Jade]

Just basically to say that that last post was me... But, I don't get how it came up guest...

[RitaLittlewood]

Yes, I was making fun of my admiration of Barbara Knox. Except, of course, it's not Barbara that's the star it's Reet. Well, apart from the next bit where I'm probably dicing with death writing Barbara Knox into it! LOL!

As it's so flipping long, I'm putting them up 2 at a time to help get through it and to Ken's gay drag queen faster. LOL!

Patsy

[Jade]

LOL! Its great though so don't worry! What part is it again that Ken becomes a drag queen?

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 26 so we're getting there. I'll post another couple up now.

Patsy

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 13

Reet marched to the studio determined no one was allowed to treat her minion like that except her and give Barbara Knox a piece of her mind. When she turned the corner, she saw the queue of hopeful applicants stretched as far as the eye could see. "Hmmm," she pondered. "This isn't going to be as easy as I thought." She stood a while deciding what to do next. She reasoned there was no point joining the queue since the star wasn't there. She looked at her reflection in the window, the autumn sun turning her hair bright orange. Then she got an idea and her eyes twinkled. She tidied her locks, straightened her coat and casually strolled to the entrance. She was nervous when she spotted the security guard.
"I didn't see you go out Miss Knox," he said.
Reet couldn't help noticing how good-looking he was but refused to let herself get distracted by a hunk in uniform despite his perky little bum, though made a mental note to hire him for her studio. "I thought I'd see what the queue was like," she replied nervously.
"I didn't think you were so popular," he noted.
"No one's as popular and well-loved as me," she responded, meaning herself. "I'd better get inside before they mob me."
"Good idea. Pass please," he requested, holding out his hand.
"But yer know who I am!" she gasped then composed herself. "Of course. I'm sorry."
"It's the rules," he said. "Nowt personal."
Reet smiled. "I know."
"You'd be surprised at how many people try to get in by passing themselves off as their favourite star," he went on.
"Must be a problem," Reet said as she rummaged inside her bag pretending to look.
"It is," he said.
She stopped searching. "Oh dear," she practically whispered. "I must have left it in the dressing room. How am I going to get in now? And they're expecting me on set."
The guard frowned. "Okay. You can go through."
Reet beamed, pleased with herself. "Thank yer so much," she told him, closing her bag.
"Just don't leave it behind again," he added as she went past.
"I'll put it on a chain around my neck. See you," she replied. She was stopped at the desk.
"Afternoon, Miss Knox," the girl said. "I didn't see you go out."
Not again, thought Reet. "No one seems to have. Is it oaky to go through?"
"Course it is," the girl said. "Goodbye."
Reet stopped. "Er... Yes," she quickly got out before making her way through corridor after corridor trying to find the dressing room. Eventually she found it, caught her breath and knocked.
"Come in," she heard from the other side. Reet braced herself and opened the door.

Reet walked into the spacious room and spotted her prey relaxing on the sofa going over her script.
Barbara looked up. "Who are you?" she asked as she pushed herself up.
"My name's Rita Littlewood-Fairclough-Sullivan-Jojita-Bradley," Reet replied as she closed the door. "Mrs," she added.
Barbara put her script down. "How did you get in here?"
"They let me through," Reet told her.
Barbara swung her legs onto the floor. "What do you want?" she asked, keeping a tight hold of the button to call security.
"I've come to talk to yer about this look-a-like competition," Reet explained, staying where she was as she sensed the star was alarmed at her presence.
"You're supposed to join the queue outside," Barbara gestured.
Reet laughed. "I'm not entering. I'm here about the way the judges treated me assistant."
"You mean there's more of you?" Barbara asked warily.
"He works for me," Reet said. "And they treated him terribly. He was very upset about it since yer his favourite actress."
"He?" Barbara raised an eyebrow.
"There's no rules to say men can't enter the stupid thing," Reet pointed out. "The only requirement is to look like you, isn't it?" Barbara nodded. "That's why I decided to come and see yer in person. I hope yer don't mind," Reet continued.
"I don't appear to have much choice since you're already here," Barbara noted. "You may as well sit down."
"Thank you," Reet said as she did so. "I mean, no one's allowed to be horrible to Norris Cole except me."
"I see," Barbara replied softly, not really understanding at all. "So, this Norris of yours tried to enter, did he?"
Reet nodded. "Yer should've seen him. He went to so much trouble. I'm sure he swiped one of me lipsticks too, but I can't prove it. Yet."
"Mrs Bradley What do you think I can do about it?" Barbara asked sincerely.
"Get him entered!" Reet snapped. "Sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice."
"That's all right. I quite understand how angry you are about this," Barbara realised.
"It's just that he was absolutely gutted when he got back to the shop. I've never seen him cry before. Not a pretty sight," Reet went on.
Barbara felt for the chap. "I have no say in who passes the auditions. I'm only judging the final."
"I know that, Miss Knox," Reet said. "But couldn't yer use your influence to get him on the list? Look. I have a photo of him right here." Reet delved into her bag, pulled out the snap and handed it to her.
Barbara examined it closely. "Well, he has gone to a lot of trouble, as you said."
"And if yer'd seen that lot still waiting outside," Reet began, "yer'll see Norris looks more like yer than anyone."
"Except you," Barbara acknowledged, pointing the picture in her direction.
"Why does everyone say I look like you?" Reet shrieked. "No offence, but I know I look like Stefanie Powers."
Barbara stood and made her way to the huge mirror. "Come here," she beckoned. Reet did as told. "Now look," Barbara told her and she did.
"So?" Reet shrugged.
"Can't you see the resemblance?" Barbara asked.
Reet looked closer. "Hey, we could be twins!" she observed.
"Precisely," Barbara replied before returning to the sofa. "That's why you should enter."
Reet faced her. "But I'm here about Norris," she reminded her.
"Look, I'll ask them to put you both on the list. That way you have twice as much chance of winning," Barbara suggested.
"Miss Knox. It's Norris who wants to win," Reet pleaded.
"He might not even without you. What do you say?" Barbara said. Reet thought for a moment then reluctantly nodded. Barbara stood again and made her way to the inner door. "That's settled then. I'll get onto them while you try on something from my wardrobe."
"YOUR wardrobe?" Reet gasped. "Oh, I couldn't do that."
"It's only some of my costumes," Barbara told her. "Every finalist will be wearing one of them. See which one you like and put it on. I shan't be a moment."
"Yer know, Miss Knox," Reet began full of admiration. "People are wrong about yer. You're really a very nice person."
"I'll give you my autograph later. You don't have to fawn," Barbara quipped, winked then left.
Reet smiled and was surprised Barbara had been such a calming influence on her temper. She went to the wardrobe and looked through the costumes. When she found one she liked, she put it on. There was a knock at the door. "Come in," she found herself saying.
"Hello, Barbara," Bill Roache beamed and kissed her cheek. Reet was stunned. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"Fine," Reet croaked.
"You haven't forgotten you're coming to dinner tonight, have you?"
Reet swallowed hard. "No," she said huskily. "Good. See you about eight then," he said.
"Fine," she got out as she watched him leave. "Wow!" she breathed excitedly. "I've been kissed by Bill Roache! And no one will ever believe me!"
"I believe you," came a voice from the door. "Enjoy it?" Reet blushed. "Thought so," continued Barbara. "What time am I expected for dinner?"
Reet had to think. "Er... Eight, I think he said. Have a nice evening."
"I will," Barbara smiled. "And you know, you should dress like me more often. Suits you." She returned to the phone.
Reet was on cloud nine. There was another knock. "Come in," she called, hoping it was Bill again but was disappointed to find it was some woman.
"Miss Knox. There's a man here to see you."
"Miss Knox isn't here," Reet waved dismissively.
"I've already told him you are," the girl whispered. "Mr Elliott? Miss Knox will see you now."
Reet came crashing back to reality and began to panic.

To be continued...

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 14

Fred nervously walked into the room. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Miss Knox," he stammered.
"Delighted I'm sure, Mr Elliott," Reet replied softly, trying to mimic the star and held her hand out.
"Oh," Fred realised then kissed it. "What can I do for you?" she asked, beginning to enjoy this deception.
"I'm looking for a lady," he said.
"A redhead?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Aye. Hair that matches her temper," he told her.
"Ah, I remember her now," Reet said softly as she patted her hair. "Well I'm afraid she left some time ago. I'm very sorry."
Fred looked glum. "Did she say where she were going? Only she promised to be back by three."
"I'm afraid not, Mr Elliott. Is that all?"
Fred nodded. "Thank you for your help," he said then made his way to the door. He stopped. "I must say, Miss Knox. You're as beautiful as you are talented."
Reet smiled sweetly. "You're too kind."
"It's only the truth. It's been a pleasure seeing you in the flesh," he fawned.
"That's very sweet of you to say. Would you like to see me again?" Reet replied.
"Would I?" Fred gushed. "It would be a dream come true."
Reet laughed slyly. "How about next Saturday?" she cocked her head.
"N-next Saturday?" he stammered.
"Is there a problem?" she asked him. "
Not at all," he told her, shaking his head. "Saturday would be perfect."
"Good." She went to the dressing table. "That'll be £200."
"What?!" he yelled.
"It's two tickets to my new one-woman show at the Palace Theatre. All proceeds go to charity. And I could do with an attractive escort to the theatre and the after show party later," she purred, looking him up and down.
Fred blushed and got his wallet out. "A very deserving cause," he said as he handed over the money. Reet smiled as she gave him the tickets. "Where shall I pick you up?" he asked.
"At my home," she replied dismissively.
"And where's that?" he continued, trying not to behave too excited.
Reet beamed. "10A Ritanation Street of course."
Fred was confused. "Eh?"
"It's me, Fred and you fell for it!" Reet laughed.
"Reet?" Realisation dawned.
"Course it's me. Do you honestly think Miss Knox would be interested in yer? Ha! She has more sense, as do I," she informed him. "But I'd be delighted to go with yer to the theatre."
Fred was humiliated. "Why you..." He chased her round the room to get his money back and picked up a glass of water.
She stopped. "What are yer going to do with that?"
"Pour it over your head," he stated.
"Can't yer take a joke?" she asked.
"Not a 200 quid joke. Give me back my money you redheaded con-artist you!" he demanded.
"Oh, Mrs Bradley," she heard.
"Now, yer wait here. I'll be back in a minute," she backed up towards the door.
"You bet I'll wait here," he replied through gritted teeth. "I've not finished with you yet. I say-"
"I heard yer the first time!" she snapped then went through the inner door.

Barbara was sat at a desk. "Ah, Mrs Bradley," she said. "I've spoken to them and yourself and Norris have been added to the list of finalists."
"Oh, that's wonderful" Reet cried. "Here."
She held out the money she'd taken from Fred. "Really, Mrs Bradley. Are you trying to insult me?" Barbara was offended.
"What?" Reet frowned. "Oh, no, no. I'd never do that. I just sold a friend of mine 2 tickets to yer new show."
Barbara smiled and took the money. "That's very kind of you. Is he still here?"
Reet's eyes twinkled as she got an idea. "Yes he is. His name's Fred Elliott."
Barbara put the money in a drawer and rose. "I must thank the dear, sweet man."
"Oh, he'd love that," Reet assured.
Barbara went past to see Fred. "Oh, Mr Elliott? Mr Elliott?" she called. Fred crept up behind and poured the water over her head. She shrieked in shock and turned around. "What did you do that for?"
"You know why, you redheaded schemer you," he hissed. "You told me you'd be back by three and you're not. I come looking for you and you con me out of 200 quid."
"I've never met you before in my life," Barbara countered.
"Don't come that," Fred replied. "Now get that stupid gear off and..."
He spotted Reet standing in the doorway and looked from one to the other. He could've died. "I'm so sorry, Miss Knox," he fawned. "I thought you were Reet. I... I..." He handed Barbara the glass and left spouting gibberish.
Reet burst out laughing. "Weren't that funny?"
Barbara forced a smile. "Hilarious(!)"
"Did you see the look on his face?" Reet chuckled. "Oh, and yer face was such a picture."
"I bet(!)" Barbara replied flatly.
"Yer really do have a marvellous sense of humour," Reet told her. "I'd better go and calm him down. Oh, but I still have something that belongs to yer." Reet spread her arms to indicate the outfit. She turned her back to take it off.
"And, er... I have something which belongs to you," Barbara said wryly.
"What?" asked Reet.
"This," Barbara reached for the jug of iced water and tipped it over Reet's head. "Now we look alike more than ever," Barbara laughed. Reet saw the funny side and laughed too.

To be continued...

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 15

The day of the final arrived. Norris and Reet were making their way to the dressing rooms after the producer's run.
"I'll never know how to thank you for this, Reet," Norris told her sincerely.
"Owt to stop yer bawling," Reet declared.
"I'd have thought we'd have met Barbara Knox by now," he continued.
"Yeah, well," Reet started. "As you say, she's a big star. She's not likely to mix with the likes of us. Got your party piece sorted?"
"This isn't to be taken lightly, Reet," he said firmly.
"Oh come off it," she said. "It's like Stars in Their Eyes. Only everyone tonight, Matthew, will be Barbara Knox."
"I suppose when you put it like that it is similar," he admitted.
"So, got yer song ready?" she asked. He nodded. "
Wonder why they won't let us rehearse?" he wondered.
"Perhaps so it's fresh and no one can steal your moves," she guessed. "I don't know."
"I'll walk this you know," he informed her confidently.
"What makes yer think so?" she asked in disbelief.
"My Carmen Miranda can't be beaten, and neither can my Barbara Knox," he replied proudly. "You'll all be overawed. You watch."
Reet rolled her eyes. "I'm sure we will be. Good luck, Norris," she held her hand out.
"May the best Barbara win," he said, shaking her hand. "Which we both know shall be me."
As Norris was led to another dressing room, Reet joined the other women and tried to stifle the giggles she got every time she thought of what Norris had said.

A while later they were all backstage wishing each other luck, but inwardly hoping everyone else would literally break a leg. Norris pawed Reet's arm.
"Gerroff!" she barked.
"I-it's Barbara Knox," he panted excitedly.
"Oh, so it is," she replied nonchalant.
"My, you all look very good," Barbara addressed the 10 finalists. "I've just come to wish you all well. It won't be easy judging the winner. But sadly 9 of you have to lose. I'm sure you'll do the best you can. I admire you all. I wouldn't have the courage to go out there and do this. Good luck and God bless." As she left, she winked at Reet and glanced quickly back at Norris who unsettled her with his gawping.
Norris noticed the gesture and grabbed Reet again. "Did you see that?" he asked. "She winked at me!"
Reet frowned. "Course she did," she replied.
"Barbara Knox winked at me! I think I'm going to faint."
It was Reet's turn to grab him this time to make sure he stayed on his feet. "Don't do that. Yer'll ruin yer make-up."
"Y-you're right," he stammered. "I think I'll just sit down for a while." As he did, he reached out for her hand. "Hey, you don't think she fancies me, do you?"
Reet looked pitifully at him not knowing whether to laugh or cry, turned away and rolled her eyes.

One by one the finalists did their piece and were all waiting backstage again for the result.
"Did you see the way she looked at me?" Norris was asking Reet. "There's no doubt I'll win."
"If yer say so, Norris, " Reet sighed. "Oh yes," he continued while Reet wished they'd hurry up so he'd shut up. "
She's definitely taken a shine to me. You can see it in her eyes."
Reet's response was saved by Barbara appearing on the monitor.
"Well, it's been immensely difficult deciding who should win since everyone was simply marvellous," she said to the audience. "In the end, it came down to just two people, one of whom was really a man."
Norris's heart beat faster. "She's talking about me," he said quickly. "I told you, Reet. Didn't I tell you?"
"Yer did, Norris," she replied. "Now shurrup and let's hear what she has to say."
Norris was put out but knew Reet was only behaving that way because she was jealous.
"The winner has such an uncanny resemblance in looks and voice," Barbara went on. "So it gives me great pleasure to announce the person who has won the part in Florizel Street acting opposite me is..."

The next day in The Kabin, Reet noticed Norris wasn't being his usual boring self.
"What's up with yer today?" she asked irritated.
"Nothing," he replied solemnly.
"I thought yer'd be pleased," she said.
"Oh, I am. I am," he said. "I get to act opposite the great Barbara Knox."
"That's right," Reet agreed. "It's what yer wanted."
"You still won though, didn't you? While I was a measly second," he sniffed.
"I know that!" she snapped. "But I didn't want to enter in t'first place. Barbara did it. I had no choice if I were to get yer in. Yer know that too."
Norris moved away. "I suppose," he shrugged.
"There's no suppose about it. Besides, Barbara agreed there couldn't be two of us in the same scene who looked so alike, and was more than happy for you to take me place," she reminded him.
Norris cheered up. "Aye, you have a point there."
"Why don't yer take the rest of the day off?" she suggested. "Yer've got a big day tomorrow acting with Barbara."
"Yes, I think I will," he said smiling. "Thank you, Reet." He got his coat and left.
"My pleasure, Norris. My pleasure," she said happily to herself, then played jacks with the pear drops.

To be continued...

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 16

It was Christmas time in the workhouse, more commonly known as The Kabin, and nearly time to close until Boxing Day. Reet was sat with her feet up eating a box of chocolates while Norris cashed up.
"Floor needs a sweep," he observed.
"Yer know where the broom is," she replied, chewing on an orange creme.
"I'm busy," he told her.
"Yer won't be once yer've finished yer adding," she remarked.
He scowled. "I must say," he began, "I am looking forward to my Christmas bonus."
Reet choked on her caramel. "Yer what?" she spluttered.
"Oh, don't tell me you've forgotten to make it up," he despaired.
She shook her head. "I've forgotten nowt," she said casually as Norris smiled with relief. "Because yer not getting one."
He dropped the money bag in disgust. "Why not?" he demanded. "I've more than earned it."
"What do yer want a bonus for?" she sneered. "Yer already get a weekly wage, so shurrup and be grateful yer even have a job."
"That is totally unfair, Reet!" he yelled. "I've done most of the work this past year while you've been gallivanting all over the place with your lovers and image changes, or on your numerous holidays!"
"My shop. Just because I own it, don't mean I have to work in it. That's what I pay yer for," she dismissed.
"Yeah, at 10p and hour. Haven't you heard of the minimum wage?" he asked.
"Course I have, but it's more than I can afford," she lied. "Maybe next year I'll give yer more money."
Norris was wary. "Oh aye? How much?"
"30p an hour. Now I can't say fairer than that," she informed him. He barged past, grabbed his coat and headed for the door. "Where are yer going?" she squeaked.
"Home!" he snapped.
"What about the floor?" she said.
"Do it yourself," he spat. "Merry Christmas!" He slammed the door behind him.
She shrugged. "Oh well. It'll just have to keep till he opens up on Thursday. Peasants!"
At that moment Sally walked in. "What's up with Norris?" she asked.
"Haven't a clue," Reet shrugged. "So, what can I do for yer?"
"Well..." Sally paused. "It's late-night shopping in the precinct."
"So?" Reet raised an eyebrow.
"What with the wedding and everything, Kev and me have found we haven't enough money to buy any food," she explained.
"And yer'd like me to give yer some?" Reet asked.
"We'd be very grateful, Reet," Sally beamed.
"Well, tough," Reet replied.
"Eh?" Sally was crestfallen. "
"Not my fault yer can't afford to have a proper dinner," Reet told her coldly.
"But the girls..." Sally pleaded.
"Give them beans as usual," Reet ordered. "And stop trying to touch me for money. I've given yer more than enough over the years so be grateful!"
"Reet, please," Sally sobbed.
"Don't look at me like that. Yer'd be able to afford it if yer hadn't had that hideous wallpaper put up," she snapped. Sally left crying while Reet opened another box of chocs.

Later that evening Reet had gone to the Rovers but made sure she never bought a round of drinks. Norris kept giving her the evil eye but she didn't care. When the pub shut she returned to her flat, had a few more drinks and went to bed pleased with herself at all the money she'd saved by not putting her hand in her pocket in the Rovers or giving Norris his bonus. And the profit she'd made by buying festive goodies in discount shops and down the market then selling them at a higher price. She turned the light off, counted pound signs and drifted off into a deep sleep...

A couple of hours later, Reet was woken up. "Hiya, ginger bonce," she heard a man say. "At least, I THINK it's still ginger. Certainly not the same shade it was all the while I knew you."
She frowned and squinted at the glowing shape at the foot of her bed. "Len?"
"Hiya, darlin'" he grinned.
She scratched her head. "Yer dead."
"Yep," he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "That's right."
"Yer died 19 years ago," she continued in complete shock.
"As long ago as that?" he replied in those familiar Scouse tones. "My, doesn't time fly when you're floating about?"
She sat up. "What are yer doing here?"
He removed his hand and spread his arms. "I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past, darlin'," he told her. "And I've come to take you on a little trip."
She shook her head as he held his hand out. "I'm not going anywhere with yer," she replied firmly.
"Oh, you've not gone shy, have you? The Reet I knew and loved wasn't backward in coming forward," he said.
"Course I haven't gone shy!" she snapped. "And what was that crack about me hair?"
"Well..." he began, trying to find the right words. "It's lighter than it used to be."
"Aye, and I've had it darker an' all," she said. "Yer know in the nearly 12 years we knew each other I was always changing it. Still kept it some sort of red though and yer can't deny that, Fairclough."
"True," he conceded. "So, are you coming with me or not?" He held his hand out again and this time she took it. "Good," he smiled. "Hey, I'll have to start calling you apricot bonce now."
"Don't yer dare!" she warned. So he took her into the past and they landed on a pavement. "Hey, that's me!" Reet exclaimed.
"That's right, ginge," Len said. "You when you were 15. Now shut up and listen to yourself."
"Is there a point to this?" she sighed.
"Yes. Now pay attention," he ordered as they stood and watched.

"Hey, Reet!" a young lad called as he ran across the road.
"Whaddya want?" young Reet asked as she continued filing her nails. "Kiss, is it?"
"How d'yer know?" the lad was breathless from running.
"Never mind. That'll be a quid." She held her hand out.
"A quid?!" the lad shouted. "It were only a shilling last week."
"Inflation," she told him. "I do have overheads, you know."
"Like what?" he scoffed. "Make-up, laquer, new stockings cos they're always getting laddered, clothes, shoes..." she counted out on her perfectly manicured fingers. "And I've got to save up so I can get out of here and become rich and famous. A quid. Take it or leave it."
The lad looked glum. "But, Reet," he whimpered. "It's Christmas and I were gonna get me mam summat nice."
"This is yer only chance," she said. "Yer'll not get another."
He thought about it. He didn't know what to do. He fancied Reet Littlewood a lot like every other lad in the neighbourhood, but he also wanted to make his mother happy. She carried on filing her nails as he took a crumpled note out of his pocket, looked at it sadly then at her. "Oh, here you are then," he said reluctantly as he handed the money over.
"Ta very much," she replied, snatching it from him and putting it somewhere safe. "Only 999,983 to go unless I meet a rich fella. Come here then."
The lad coyly moved closer and she pecked him on the cheek.
"Is that all?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "A kiss on the lips is a fiver. See yer."

Len and Reet watched as the lad slowly walked home, head bowed, while the younger Reet carried on filing her nails and laughed. "That Derek Wilton always were a stupid idiot," Reet remarked.
"That was Derek?" Len was surprised. She nodded. He looked again at the youngsters. "Money grabbing at such a tender age," he tutted. "Reet, I'm surprised at you."
"Oh, shurrup, Fairlcough!" she barked. "I worked hard enough and suffered enough poverty throughout me life."
"Until you married me," he noted.
"Until yer died and left me a very wealthy widow," she corrected.
"You've got to change, Reet," he told her. "You've got to stop being so mean to people where money's concerned, especially at Christmas."
"I'll do what I like!" she yelled. "Yer not my husband any more so yer can't think yer can tell me what to do. Is that it?"
He sighed. "Yes, I suppose it is. I'll take you back."
"About flipping time," she replied, and immediately fell asleep in her own bed as though nothing had happened...

To be continued...

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 17

A short while later, Reet was woken up again. "Ho, ho, ho!" she heard and looked up. "Not again. Santa?"
"Hello, young Reet. I hear you've been a naughtly little girl this year," he replied.
"What the heck are yer doing here? You don't even exist. I must be dreaming," she reasoned.
"But I DO exist," he told her. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Presents."
"Shouldn't that be present?" she asked.
"No. Presents. Because if you don't change, you'll get nothing from anyone this year," he explained. "You are not very popular at the moment."
"Think I care about that?" she sneered. "I'm rich, can have any fella I want and as much vodka as I want. So stop wasting yer time and go and annoy someone else." Before she knew it she was in the Webster's house and it was Christmas Day.
Sally was serving up fish fingers and beans while Sophie and Rosie moaned. "It's not my fault we haven't got any money," Sally snapped. "And this was all there was in the house."
"Couldn't you have asked auntie Reet?" Rosie asked. "She's always happy to give you money."
"Well, not this time she wasn't," Sally wiped away a tear. "I still don't know why you wouldn't ask her, Kevin."
Kev tried not to look too guilty, knowing how Sally would react if she found out about his affair with their benefactor. "She always liked you best," he lied. "You were always good at giving her a sob story so she'd hand over more cash."
"Too right she is," Reet added, knowing they couldn't see or hear her.
"I tried, Kev. I really did," Sally sobbed. "But she didn't want to know for some reason. She was more than happy to let the girls go hungry."
"Go hungry?!" Reet scoffed. "They've got their favourite meal there! She always did exaggerate everything."
"Doesn't auntie Reet like us any more?" asked Sophie.
"Course she does," Sally assured. "I think she was just in a bad mood when I asked, that's all."
"What's for tea?" Rosie piped up.
"Chips and beans," Sally answered.
"What, no fish fingers?" wailed Rosie.
"This is the last until I can afford another packet," Sally sobbed again. "What are we going to do, Kev?"
He put his arm around her. "I don't know, Sal. I really don't," he said.
"How could Reet be so cruel to us?" she cried.
"Don't let yourself get upset about it. It's done now. I'll go and talk to her later and see what she's playing at," he told her.
Reet beamed. "I look forward to that." "Well?" she looked at Santa.
"Doesn't it break your heart to see this family suffering so much?" Santa asked.
"No. Should it?" she relied coldly.
"You're a hard woman, Reet Littlewood-Fairclough-Sullivan-Jojita-Bradley."
"I'm not a soft touch if that's what yer mean," she countered. "Not any more where Sally Webster's concerned. So, are we going?" He took her hand and returned her to the bedroom where she fell asleep immediately again...

Not long afterwards, Reet was woken up again. "This is getting ridiculous!" she muttered angrily. "How am I supposed to get any sleep if I keep being disturbed?"
"Then change and we'll leave you alone," a voice said.
She looked up. "Les! How did you get in here?" she demanded. "I'm calling the police."
"Don't bovver yerself, Reet," he told her calmly. "Yer see, I'm the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come."
She scratched her forehead frowning. "Yer not dead."
"I am, yer know," he told her. "That's why I'm here."
"I really don't understand this," she said, shaking her apricot tresses. "How did you die?"
"Come with me and I'll show you your future," he replied. She sighed heavily and off they went, arriving in a big country house at a wedding.
"And do you, Reet Littlewood-Fairclough-Sullivan-Jojita-Bradley take Leslie Battersby to be your husband?" the registrar was saying.
"I do," Reet watched herself dreamily reply. She looked at the dead Les. "What's going on?"
"This is your future," he explained. "If you don't go back to giving handouts to all and sundry, your destiny is to marry me."
She watched as their other selves exchanged rings and kissed. She felt sick. "Who's paying for all this malarky?" she asked the ghost.
"I am," he said.
"What did yer do? Rob a bank?" she scoffed.
"No. Won the pools, lottery and a small fortune on the gee-gees on the same day," he replied.
"I see," she said slowly. "But how come yer dead?"
"I dunno. I just am!" he cried. "I changed me will so you got most of me money. Four months later I'm here. You tell me!"
"How do I know?" she shrugged. "It hasn't happened yet."
"Oh no. That's right," he realised. "So, do you wanna end up married to me?"
"When does this happen?" she asked.
"Next year," he replied. Well?"
She looked at him. "Course not."
"Good. Cos I don't wanna marry you so that's agreed," he went on. "So you'll change?" She glanced at the future couple then the ghost.
"I'll change," she told him, nodding. "Excellent. I get to live. Yippee!" he shrieked.
"Can yer take me back now please? I've seen enough," she said.
"Certainly. This way," he took her hand and returned her to her bedroom where she drifted off to sleep again...

The following morning Reet awoke and remembered all the events of the previous night. She sat up in bed and pondered. "Reet Littlewood-Fairclough-Sullivan-Jojita-Bradley-Battersby, eh?" she said to herself. "Well, it's a small sacrifice to make for all that money I suppose. And he said himself, he dies four months later. Change indeed. Yer can forget that for starters. Merry Christmas to me and roll on 2003!" She grinned at the thought and began to plan how to spend her future good fortune...

To be continued...

[RitaLittlewood]

Part 18

It was the 27th December and Reet was passing the time in The Kabin by flicking through the newspapers since Norris was off with his Christmas pudding accident. She didn't regret for a second hitting him over the head with it to stop him pratting about with lighters, matches and wasting the brandy. She just hadn't realised it would be rock hard so was glad she never got the chance to break her teeth on it. She glanced at her watch. Only 2 hours until she could close for the day and not one person had even come in to buy a stamp to send a belated card. An article caught her eye and she didn't notice Ken walk in.
"Afternoon, Reet," he greeted cheerfully. "Reet?" He touched her arm which broke her concentration.
"I'm sorry, Ken," she said. "I was just reading this about a fella in America who won nearly £200 million on the lottery."
"Keep it to yourself," Ken said in hushed tones. "But that's my cousin Jimmy who'll be changing his name to Rockerfeller Barlow any day now."
Reet smiled. "Yer cousin?" He nodded in-between running his fingers through his fringe. "I didn't know you had a cousin in America."
"I didn't until just now," he explained. "And he'll be coming over to see us in the New Year."
Reet tried not to show her excitement. "Will he be staying with yer?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Ken nodded again and flicked his fringe back. "Won't your house be a bit small for him and his wife, what with already having Blanche and Tracy living with yer?" she continued.
"Oh, he's not married," Ken told her.
"Oh?" Reet's heart was pounding.
"Never met the right girl," he added.
"Aw, that's a shame," she lied.
"He doesn't want anyone to know he has money so won't be doing anything flashy," he said.
"I won't breathe a word, Ken," she assured.
"I knew I could trust you," he smiled. "You must meet him when he comes over."
"I'll look forward to that very much," she replied, hoping he couldn't see the pound signs in her eyes. After he'd bought a packet of mints and left, Reet's mind went into overdrive. "Let me see..." she said to herself. "I've been shown I marry Les at Christmas. I can easily fit another wedding in before it. Now, how on earth do I get rid of Alan?" Her thoughts were interrupted by the phone. She hit the counter in frustration and answered it. "Hello Kabin. Ah, Mr Williams. This is unexpected. Is there something wrong?" she said to her bank manager. Her mouth tightened as she heard what he had to say. "No. There's nothing wrong," she lied, trying to keep her voice steady. "But thank you for your concern. Happy New Year." She hung up. Alan walked in.
"Hello? Anyone here? Reet?" he called.
She forced a smile and emerged from the back. "Hello, love," she greeted him with a kiss.
He sensed something was wrong. "Everything all right?" he asked.
"Just bored," she lied again. "Why don't we go away for a few days?"
He beamed. "That's a good idea. Where do you want to go?"
"Switzerland?" she suggested. "I fancy doing some skiing."
"Okay. I'll pop to the travel agents and see if there's any last-minute bargains. Won't be long," he said before kissing her and leaving.
Reet's eyes narrowed as she began to plan...

New Year's Eve in Switzerland, and Reet was sleeping it off while Alan went for a morning ski to wake himself up. When he returned she was still asleep. He gently shook her. "Reet. Come on, love. Time to get up."
She groaned. "What time is it?"
He checked his watch. "Just gone 10."
"Far too early," she moaned and pulled the covers over her head.
"Hangover?" he asked. She said nothing but he heard soft snoring so shook her again. "You drank far too much last night."
"Only trying to keep warm," she mumbled.
He pulled the covers off her. "I know what you need," he said. "To be left alone?" she offered.
"A quick run down the piste," he continued.
She squinted. "On that blindingly bright snow?" Forget it!"
"Come on. It's the last day of the year so you can't spend it in bed," he said cheerfully.
She looked at him through one eye. "It's New Year's Eve?" He nodded. She smiled and opened the other eye. "You're right. A brisk run down the slopes will do me the world of good. Order me breakfast, there's a love."
"What do you want," he asked, reaching for the phone.
"6 bottles of vodka," she told him as she forced herself out of the warm, comfy bed.
"That's not much," he observed. "You usually have 15."
"Don't feel too good this morning," she kissed him then went to the bathroom.

By 10pm Reet was back in Weatherfield - alone. Outside Fred noticed the lights on in her flat and immediately called the police. Meanwhile Reet was adding the latest entry to The Secret Diary of Rita-Littlewood-Fairclough-Sullivan-Jojita-Bradley, aged nearly 71 worst luck: Alan's dead, she wrote. It was only what he deserved after dressing up as me, buying a cheap red wig, going to the bank and withdrawing my money! Cheek of that one. No wonder the bank manager was worried I'd gone loopy again. He just HAD to go. We'd been skiing, and as I practised my scales, the earth shook, sending him crashing into a genetically modified tree which then hugged him to death with its branches, sobbing that no one ever loved it and just ignored it as they sped past as though it didn't exist. Now I can plan my next wedding to Ken's cousin, Rockerfeller Barlow as soon as I make him fall in love with me. She was interrupted by blue flashing lights, peered out the window to see the police cars, quickly hid her diary and went to the door. "Reet!" cried a surprised Fred. "I thought you were burglars. What you doing here? You're away. I say, you're away." She looked at him then the police. "Alan's dead," she forced the sobs, imagining she was chopping an onion. "He had a terrible accident while on the piste this morning." "I'm so sorry to hear about that, Reet," Fred consoled. "I never thought Alan drank that much." "We were skiing, fool!" she snapped, then composed herself. "Forgive me, Fred," she bawled. "I'm still very upset about it." The police left to go to their own New Year party, leaving Fred and Reet on the doorstep. "I expect you are," he put an arm around her. "Do you mind me asking what happened?" "Not at all," she sniffed and hoped this wouldn't go on much longer because she was beginning to taste that imaginary onion. "He lost control and crashed into a tree." She buried her face in his chest. "How terrible," he said. "Yes," she nodded. "I'm so alone!" "You could always come across t'road if you want some company. Well, that's only if you want to. Not good to be on yer own at new year," he said. She looked up. "Yes," she sniffed. "It might do me some good. Give us a minute to sort me face out." She went back upstairs thrilled with her Oscar-winning performance, washed the mascara smears away, put fresh make-up on the joined Fred.

She was interrupted by blue flashing lights, peered out the window to see the police cars, quickly hid her diary and went to the door.
"Reet!" cried a surprised Fred. "I thought you were burglars. What you doing here? You're away. I say, you're away."
She looked at him then the police. "Alan's dead," she forced the sobs, imagining she was chopping an onion. "He had a terrible accident while on the piste this morning."
"I'm so sorry to hear about that, Reet," Fred consoled. "I never thought Alan drank that much."
"We were skiing, fool!" she snapped, then composed herself.
"Forgive me, Fred," she bawled. "I'm still very upset about it."
The police left to go to their own New Year party, leaving Fred and Reet on the doorstep. "I expect you are," he put an arm around her. "Do you mind me asking what happened?"
"Not at all," she sniffed and hoped this wouldn't go on much longer because she was beginning to taste that imaginary onion. "He lost control and crashed into a tree." She buried her face in his chest.
"How terrible," he said."
Yes," she nodded. "I'm so alone!"
"You could always come across t'road if you want some company. Well, that's only if you want to. Not good to be on yer own at new year," he said.
She looked up. "Yes," she sniffed. "It might do me some good. Give us a minute to sort me face out." She went back upstairs thrilled with her Oscar-winning performance, washed the mascara smears away, put fresh make-up on the joined Fred.

Midnight arrived and Reet desperately wanted to get in the spirit of things but knew she had to be restrained. Everyone was kissing everyone else and wishing them a happy new year. As she left shortly afterwards, Curly caught up with her outside her flat.
"Reet!" he called.
"Hello, Curly," she smiled.
"I haven't wished yer a Happy New Year," he said. "Though I'm very sorry about Alan."
"Well," she began, "to be honest, things weren't going too well between us. Haven't been for some time. The holiday was a last-ditch attempt to save our marriage. It just wasn't the same this time around. I'm sad he's dead though," she lied.
"Oh," Curly didn't know what to say to that. "I hope this year will be better than the last then." She smiled thinking of her future inheritances. "I'm sure it will be." "
Anyway, Happy New Year, Reet."
"You too, Curly."
He kissed her and they locked in a passionate embrace.

To be continued...