Soap Uproar

SOAP UPROAR

You don't know me. Why would you? If I met you, say, at a dinner party,
you'd probably ask me what I do. And I'd tell you that I'm on your
television five nights a week at prime time, and you'd probably smile
politely and turn to the sane person on your other side and ask them
what they do, ignoring me completely. But if you asked me which
programme, I'd tell you that it's the nation's favorite soap opera, as
voted by readers of The London Herald, and you'd probably smile
politely and say that you don't really watch soap operas, while slowly
turning red, because of course you do. You just don't know who I
am.

So I'll tell you. My name is Susie Styles and I play the part of Tina
Oldham in Up West. And before you ask, over the past ten years, Tina
Oldham has graced your screens as a barmaid in The Old Trout, a
hairdresser's assistant, dodgy Blankie Eden's secretary and a
bridesmaid at Mandy Martin and Kyle's wedding. Oh and once I had to
stand in for the milkman when he had tinitus. Ring any bells? Didn't
think so.

Every day for ten years, I've been trudging across London, to stand
behind the primadonnas and perverts who make up my unlikely colleagues
to hold the show together. With a flexibility that only a great actor
can possess, I slip in and out of roles unnoticed and provide vital
padding - at least that's what the Director says - for complex
storylines. I haven't missed a day on set in those ten years and still
my co-stars refuse to acknowledge my presence.

No, I tell a lie. Petula Orfus who plays Sophie Eden did speak to me
the other day. Do you know what she said? She said, 'Hey, you. Get off
the set. We're rolling any minute. And take that bin bag with you when
you leave'. Sophie Eden and Tina have been running the bar of The Old
Trout together for the past two years. I'm her head barmaid.

My big break came three years ago. I got to be bridesmaid at the Up
West wedding of the year. You remember, the one that was on then off
then on again because Mandy didn't know she was pregnant and gave birth
on the carpet in the middle of the stag night? I had a great line. It
went like this: 'you look beautiful, Mand.' And I delivered it with
such deep sentiment that I swear the Director had tears in his eyes. I
think the rest of the cast was a bit resentful of my performance
actually. They even tried to collar me for the food poisoning incident
that landed me the part, but the jealousy of others is a price you pay
for great talent.

I brought my bridesmaid scene up with the Director the other day. We're
on great terms the Director and I. I think he really values my creative
input. I call him Derektor, because his name's Derek and he's the
director (get it?) and he thinks it's hilarious every time. Anyway, I
suggested that perhaps my role could be developed a bit. You know, like
Tina could suddenly win ten grand down the Bingo and buy The Old Trout
off the old trout. Ha ha.

He said it wasn't very realistic. I pointed out that The Old Trout had
changed hands in any manner of unlikely ways since day dot, but he
still wasn't having it. Said dialogue was very expensive, and therefore
I would have to use my undeniable thespian strengths in other ways,
communicating through silent actions and expressions. What

he really meant was that every driveling, squawking word that comes out
of Petula Orfus' gob wipes another nought off his budget. But I can
rise to a challenge.

That was Wednesday. On Thursday evening, while my fellow cast members
were out disgracing themselves and racing each other to the front pages
of the gutter press, I was reading through my script at home. Well, I
say I was reading, there aren't really any lines in mine but there's a
lot of direction. It's a lot more complicated than what the others have
to do. You know, just learn a few words and say them at the right time.
I have to serve pints and take orders and banter with the locals, all
without making a sound. It takes a special sort of talent, the Director
says.

Friday's filming would be almost entirely focused on The Old Trout, so
I had a lot of expressions to practice. As you know, tension between
Blankie Eden and Kyle has been brewing for a while, and there's going
to be a real humdinger of a scrap in this episode. Tina has to call an
ambulance so I needed to practice my best
panic-and-disaster-while-remaining-in-absolute-control face, which is
one of the more difficult poses to achieve, but a piece of cake to a
veteran like me.

Expressions perfected and nails polished (Fire Engine Red, in
preparation for shot of Tina's finger dialing the emergency services),
I sat down to read the London Herald and sip a little Tio Pepe. I was
flicking through to the telly page when Nora Jones' column caught my
eye. I normally ignore it because it's always full of the antics of
Petula and co. and who wants to read about them after a tortuous day on
the set of Up West?

There was a full-page photo of the mighty Orfus herself, playing to the
camera as ever, ultra light cigarette in one hand and fake Prada in the
other. Tonight she was wearing a black leather mini skirt (no tights)
and a feathery leopard skin top, looking every bit the tarty barmaid
even in a posh 'A' list hangout. The caption simply read, 'Up
Yours'.

The article announced that Petula Orfus would be leaving Up West, due
to 'irreconcilable differences with director Derek Glynn'. Well, I
didn't know anything about this but I'm sure you can believe that
Petula isn't an easy person to work with and is always full of her own
ideas about the script and the direction and what she wants to do with
the Sophie character and what Sophie wants to do with the more
attractive male members of the cast and so on and so on. I will concede
that she is a bit of a favourite with the viewers, but I've a suspicion
that this might have more to do with Sophie's loose morals than
Petula's tight performances.

I read on. 'In a statement issued earlier today by a spokesperson for
the show, viewers were assured that the character of Sophie Eden would
not be killed off, as has been a recent trend in Up West, earning the
set the nickname 'Up the Bronx' among its more vehement critics, but
that the fate of Sophie would be kept tightly under wraps in
anticipation of a sensational episode to be screened at Christmas.
Dermot O'Rhiordan, who plays Petula's on-screen husband Blankie in the
soap, this afternoon claimed to be heartbroken by Orfus' decision and
said he couldn't think of a single person who could replace her in the
nation's hearts.'

Well, I certainly could. It was time to have another gentle word with
Derek.

The following morning all the news channels were carrying the story and
before I left for the tube I must have seen Dermot's sickeningly
sycophantic sound bite at least six times. It's common knowledge that
they loathe each other. Dermot calls Petula the Tarantula behind her
back.

I always arrive at the studio earlier than the rest. Ironic really, the
only one not to get a limo service is the only one to get to work on
time. I like to walk through my paces in the bar before we start
shooting. I practiced my 999 call, and my look of horror when Kyle
smashes a pint glass into Blankie's head, splattering blood all over
Mandy's anorak.

Then I usually rearrange my beer glasses, because every night the props
manager comes in and puts them places they shouldn't be. And they
always need a good polish because my feeling is, if I really was Tina
then I would make sure my glasses were always spotless. Unlike Sophie,
who's remarkably slutty in that department.

That's when Derek normally comes in and we have a little joke. I always
say to him, 'Good evening Sir, what can I get you?' as if I was a real
barmaid you see, and Derek always replies, 'pint of arsenic please, and
one for yourself'. And then we all laugh - especially the crew. It's
been going on for years.

So that Friday I took Derek to one side and told him how very sorry I
was to hear about Petula leaving. I said it was probably for the best
in the long run. Nothing better for getting the ratings up than a right
tearjerker of a death scene. The Director said he didn't agree. They
were leaving channels open for Sophie / Petula to come back.

He told me a bit about what they're planning for her departure, which
obviously I can't share with you because it's top secret Up West
business and only privy to the inner circle, but I can say that I don't
really think it's the most dramatic of exits for diva of Petula's
standing.

I shared a few off-the-top-of-my-head ideas with him, like perhaps
Sophie could be kidnapped by a Triad gang and a video of her being
brutally dismembered could be sent to Blankie for the Easter episode.
Or maybe it could be something dead simple but heartbreaking, like
Sophie going to visit her dying granny in hospital and being so
distraught on her return that she steps out in front of the 92A to
Shepherds Bush.

Derek pointed out that Sophie's granny Edna died four years ago, which
I should really have remembered because I did a lovely scene handing
out potted shrimp sandwiches to grieving relatives at the wake. I told
him I'd work on some ideas. Meanwhile, I was having a few ideas for
Tina too but thought I'd screen test them first and see what he thought
when he saw them.

Back in the bar, everyone was getting really excited about the fight.
The crew and the stunt guys were all over the place, sticking tape to
the carpets and cueing up fake plasma. It's very realistic that blood
they use, don't you think? But I bet you didn't know that if you lick
it, it tastes of peppermint. I only found out by accident myself. I was
catching forty winks in the Green Room a couple of months ago and the
crew, who are always playing practical jokes, popped a capsule in my
mouth. It looked just like I was dead apparently. Dermot even called an
ambulance after a couple of hours. What a hoot.

When Petula finally arrived, we had to get shooting pretty promptly and
we all took our places. So Kyle comes to the bar and orders a pint of
the usual and I nod and pretend to have a conversation with him. Then
Sophie comes down and says, 'er, what's he doing in here? You know he's
barred'. So I have to make an apologetic face and busy myself with
glasses and bottles. We had to do the bit where Sophie and Kyle argue a
couple of times because I think there was something wrong with the
microphone. Derek said my bottle sorting was drowning out their row but
it was probably a piece of dicky equipment.

When the pub fills up I'm allowed to chat with the other extras but I
don't, because you'd think it was a bit funny wouldn't you, if I spoke
to the postman and the milkman and that girl who sells knickers down by
the station, but I didn't speak to my own boss or any proper customers?
So I just tend to walk around the bar looking sympathetic or interested
or sad or delighted to give the other characters a bit of
dimension.

Then Blankie strides in and the whole pub goes silent. This is when I
get to use my favourite shocked and alarmed face. It's the one where my
eyes go really wide and wary. Look out for it next time you watch.
Blankie comes up to the bar and orders a Scotch on The Rocks and I go
to get it for him and Sophie says, 'it's alright love, I'll get this
one' and stands right in front of a really good 'I'd better do as he
says or I might end up in the river' face that I was making at Blankie,
which annoyed me quite a lot. I didn't say anything though. Being a
consummate professional I just let it go.

The scene is a bit complicated really, and I'm not allowed to give too
many details away, but the upshot is, Blankie and Kyle start winding
each other up and a brawl ensues, with Kyle landing a blow in Blankie's
big soft belly. And the glass gets smashed on the head, and Mandy gets
covered in minty blood, and Sophie shouts at Tina to call the
Police.

That was the cue for my phone finger shot but I also wanted to get a
good shot at looking concerned while vigorously mopping Mandy's mac
down with my towel for camera two. Multitasking is part of any good
actor's repertoire so I grabbed the phone and pulled the flex with me
to the other end of the bar, grabbed the cloth and sped off to the
scene of the action, dabbing Mandy and gesturing wildly down the
receiver that there was a fracas in The Old Trout in Trotter Street.
This was particularly inspired, I felt, using the action of a fish
mouth opening and closing to convey the pub's name to the
operator.

As with any heavy scene, you can't always expect everyone to get it
right first time, and I could hear the Director screaming 'cut' at the
height of this particularly fine piece of drama. Less experienced
members of the cast often get a bit uppity when they're asked to stop
in the middle of a scene, as if it's an attack on them personally. Me,
I'm fairly philosophical about it all. I can perform to the best of my
ability time and again.

I was aware that there was rather a lot of noise coming from behind the
serving hatch and assumed it was Petula having a tantrum. Dermot,
having pulled himself off the floor, had piled over the bar and was
yelling, 'dial 999, dial 999'. They often do this, the 'star' members
of the cast. They'll just decide to continue filming and never
mind

whether anyone else is ready or not. I gave Dermot my best, 'I am
dialing 999' look, nodding vigorously while getting on with the task in
hand.

Then one of the others, I think it was the knicker girl, snatched the
phone out of my hand and ran over to the bar with it. Bloody cheek, I
thought, trying to steal my scene, and I turned to Derek to
protest.

Uh Oh. Petula was lying on top of the cellar trap, her face as blue as
Bombay Sapphire. The telephone cord was round her neck and she appeared
not to be breathing.

Well that's how I got my big scene, see. I was called to Derek's office
after the ambulance had left. Petula wasn't dead, silly. She would just
have a bit of trouble talking for a while. Derek said that he thought
maybe it was time I started looking around for a more challenging role.
More suited to my enormous talent as a character actor, he said. I did
point out that getting rid of Tina after ten years in the role would
cause some continuity problems. There would be people out there who
would mourn her absence. 'No problem', Derek promised, 'leave it to
me'.

So without giving too much away, there's an episode coming up that's
guaranteed to bring a tear to your eye, with Tina, heroic to the end,
having a proper Up West funeral and her first slice of the rolling
credits. Then you'll know who I am.