Mr Humphries
20-10-2006, 10:24
Friday 27th October
There's more staring out to sea in this one episode than you'd find in a hundred crows' nests. Rachel is finding it hard to come to terms with the fact that, just two weeks ago, her life was pretty much perfect (apart from the stalker, sexual harassment, cruel father and mentally impaired mother - but we guess all that seems like small fry). "Now I have nothing", she sobs, as Leah wraps her arms around her. Her mood improves not a jot when a radio reporter, who looks like Lauren Laverne's older ginger sister, appears and asks her a couple of gentle questions. "So you were responsible for the chopper's flight?" she asks, sticking the knife in. "And how do you feel about that, given the outcome?" This implication that it's all Rachel's fault is bad enough when it comes from a local hack, but it really stings when Alf confronts her and accuses her of the same thing. "They shouldn't have been up in that damn chopper in the first place!" he hoots, as Rachel begins to wish that she'd been on that fateful flight too.
"Martha is from good Stewart stock," screeches Morag, "and wouldn't give up without a fight." It's a good point, but Alf - who is rapidly morphing into Eeyore - has one of his own. "We don't even know if she had the chance to fight", he replies morosely. "I've seen more tragedy than I care to remember. Somehow, we've always come through it. But this time..." After casting her eyes heavenwards, Morag tries to rally her brother out of his funk with a heartfelt plea about how much the town needs him. "You are the spirit and soul of the place!" she cries. "You set the tone. And if you believe, so will they." However, Alf looks at her wearily and admits that he can't be that person anymore. He simply can't see how a small community like theirs can survive the loss of six loved ones in the space of just two weeks. This moment is interrupted by the hack from earlier that day, who keeps her accusing finger to herself long enough to ask Alf for a comment on the awful events of the past fortnight. Alf hesitates, before telling the reporter that there is indeed something that he'd like to say. And no, it's not about galahs either. Tsk.
Yes, Matilda's burn is a long way from healing - but the fact that the hospital have semi-mummified her makes it look far worse than it is. Naturally, she's concerned about her appearance and no amount of mollycoddling from Beth lifts her spirits after she returns home. In fact, Beth's demeanour is causing her some concern. Tony gently points out that Beth shouldn't feel she has to be the strong one; she can allow herself to prepare for the worst. However, Beth rejects the idea that she won't be seeing Kit and Robbie again. "They'll be fine", she says, giving Tony a wink. Later, Lucas and Mattie are taking a stroll when a girl from school approaches and dishes out the sympathy. Although her words are genuine, they hit a raw nerve and Matilda quickly flees the scene. At home, Beth's offers of comfort turn into overprotection. If Matilda wants to leave the house in future, she'll have to leave a note. There are tears before bedtime, and Tony becomes increasingly worried about Beth's state of mind. "You might think you're dealing with this," he whispers, "but nothing could be further from the truth."
As Summer Bay begins to grieve, Alf's words float out of the town's radios. "The fact is, we're all feeling the same things", he murmurs. "But the courage and strength we inspire in each other will help this community through this difficult time. I know we can get through this." As he speaks, Lucas comforts Mattie; Beth and Tony make up; and Rachel pours herself another drink in a desperate bid to forget that she's the one being blamed for the catastrophe. She tells Leah that she believes Alf had every right to lash out; the truth is everyone is dead because of her. However, this - amazingly - is not the case. As the sun sets over thick bushland, we pan down to a small clearing that's strewn with debris. Nearby sit four survivors - but, after five days, they're all looking extremely worse for wear. They're covered in cuts and abrasions; they're dehydrated; they're exhausted; and they're quickly losing hope. "No one is coming for us, are they?" asks one, as the others shake their heads in sorrow. At the end of a long week, we're finally offering you a scrap of joy - but there were six people aboard that flight, remember, and we're already missing two. Find out which ones on Monday.
There's more staring out to sea in this one episode than you'd find in a hundred crows' nests. Rachel is finding it hard to come to terms with the fact that, just two weeks ago, her life was pretty much perfect (apart from the stalker, sexual harassment, cruel father and mentally impaired mother - but we guess all that seems like small fry). "Now I have nothing", she sobs, as Leah wraps her arms around her. Her mood improves not a jot when a radio reporter, who looks like Lauren Laverne's older ginger sister, appears and asks her a couple of gentle questions. "So you were responsible for the chopper's flight?" she asks, sticking the knife in. "And how do you feel about that, given the outcome?" This implication that it's all Rachel's fault is bad enough when it comes from a local hack, but it really stings when Alf confronts her and accuses her of the same thing. "They shouldn't have been up in that damn chopper in the first place!" he hoots, as Rachel begins to wish that she'd been on that fateful flight too.
"Martha is from good Stewart stock," screeches Morag, "and wouldn't give up without a fight." It's a good point, but Alf - who is rapidly morphing into Eeyore - has one of his own. "We don't even know if she had the chance to fight", he replies morosely. "I've seen more tragedy than I care to remember. Somehow, we've always come through it. But this time..." After casting her eyes heavenwards, Morag tries to rally her brother out of his funk with a heartfelt plea about how much the town needs him. "You are the spirit and soul of the place!" she cries. "You set the tone. And if you believe, so will they." However, Alf looks at her wearily and admits that he can't be that person anymore. He simply can't see how a small community like theirs can survive the loss of six loved ones in the space of just two weeks. This moment is interrupted by the hack from earlier that day, who keeps her accusing finger to herself long enough to ask Alf for a comment on the awful events of the past fortnight. Alf hesitates, before telling the reporter that there is indeed something that he'd like to say. And no, it's not about galahs either. Tsk.
Yes, Matilda's burn is a long way from healing - but the fact that the hospital have semi-mummified her makes it look far worse than it is. Naturally, she's concerned about her appearance and no amount of mollycoddling from Beth lifts her spirits after she returns home. In fact, Beth's demeanour is causing her some concern. Tony gently points out that Beth shouldn't feel she has to be the strong one; she can allow herself to prepare for the worst. However, Beth rejects the idea that she won't be seeing Kit and Robbie again. "They'll be fine", she says, giving Tony a wink. Later, Lucas and Mattie are taking a stroll when a girl from school approaches and dishes out the sympathy. Although her words are genuine, they hit a raw nerve and Matilda quickly flees the scene. At home, Beth's offers of comfort turn into overprotection. If Matilda wants to leave the house in future, she'll have to leave a note. There are tears before bedtime, and Tony becomes increasingly worried about Beth's state of mind. "You might think you're dealing with this," he whispers, "but nothing could be further from the truth."
As Summer Bay begins to grieve, Alf's words float out of the town's radios. "The fact is, we're all feeling the same things", he murmurs. "But the courage and strength we inspire in each other will help this community through this difficult time. I know we can get through this." As he speaks, Lucas comforts Mattie; Beth and Tony make up; and Rachel pours herself another drink in a desperate bid to forget that she's the one being blamed for the catastrophe. She tells Leah that she believes Alf had every right to lash out; the truth is everyone is dead because of her. However, this - amazingly - is not the case. As the sun sets over thick bushland, we pan down to a small clearing that's strewn with debris. Nearby sit four survivors - but, after five days, they're all looking extremely worse for wear. They're covered in cuts and abrasions; they're dehydrated; they're exhausted; and they're quickly losing hope. "No one is coming for us, are they?" asks one, as the others shake their heads in sorrow. At the end of a long week, we're finally offering you a scrap of joy - but there were six people aboard that flight, remember, and we're already missing two. Find out which ones on Monday.