Weakest episode of the week, and suddenly Bonnie Langford is becoming redundant and caricaturish fast.
Looks like all roads lead to Roya, so the little bits first.
RoxyRoya
Fa-Fa-Fa-FA-Fa Fa Fa-Fa FA Fa.
The clock is ticking.
Roxy better run run run ... run awayyyyyyyy. Ronnie's turned voyeuse watching Roxy and Charlie sit at opposite ends of the lounge and talk. When Roxy confronts her with yet another epiphany - that she's sad and lonely at thirty-six and that she, maybe, should think about taking charge of her life, moving out of the house Ronnie shares with her husband and child and getting a place of her own - how, is anyone's guess, since Roxy only works sporadically, has wasted all her inheritance, and is basically unemployable. (I guess there's always Bank of Phil, if tonight were anything to go by). Line of the night goes to Ronnie, when she urged Roxy to attend Sharon's Singles' Bingo night at The Albert.
Ronnie: You should go.
Roxy: Because meeting sad, old, desperate men is just what I need.
Ronnie: Better than married ones.
Oo-er, missus! Even though Ronnie tries to palm that off as a joke, it's clear, even to Roxy, that Ronnie's barbs still sting. Roxy should take that as a sincere warning to move away ... far far away, and even though Ronnie offers a protest, when Roxy leaves the room with the suggestion that she give Ronnie some space and find a life of her own, as soon as Roxy's out of the room, we're treated to a cold, wicked smile from one of the many psychopaths strutting the streets of Walford.
And whilst Max Branning is sitting in the cafe, spending money he doesn't have, and trolling the papers for a job, Roxy has one landed rignt in her lap - or rather, down her cleavage. She offers to cover Masala Masood for a few hours whilst Masood sneaks off to stalk his secret granddaughter (more on that later).
It's been a long time since we've seen Rita Simons do a comic turn, and she was good at portraying blagging ineptitude tonight, complete with Himesh Patel's straight-faced straight man beside her. From serving a meat dish to a vegetarian and giving him the bonus of a free popadoum to attempting to balance a container of curry and having it splash all down the front of her clothing (I have had a baby before), to the dry exchanges between her and Himesh, that was good for a chuckle, including the line later on to Ronnie ...
I've got most of the curry down my cleavage.
At the end of the fiasco on the stall, Roxy thought herself a self-fulfilling prophecy of ineptitude and inability, thanks to Ronnie's lifelong chant mantra of telling her she was incapable of looking after herself. Ronnie's not best pleased at the prospect of Roxy accepting her fate of having to be mollycoddled by Ronnie for the rest of her life.
For once, and this was subtle, or as subtle as Ronnie is capable, Ronnie wants Roxy out of the loop, away from the equation. Is she naive enough to think that if Roxy were to distance herself geographically, even leave the Square, that Charlie wouldn't be drawn to her like a fly to a moth? Out of sight, out of mind? On the other hand, maybe Ronnie wants her away so, in the inevitability of something happening between Roxy and Charlie, Roxy would avoid getting hurt. By Ronnie, and when Ronnie hurts, she hurts to kill.
As things turn out, Roxy's a necessary tool in yet another deception. Masood offers her a job assisting him on the Masala stall, which is nothing more than a cover for his absences as he goes off to stalk a child who will regard him as a stranger.
Poor Roxy. She gets used again.
I doubt Masood's wages will be enough to free her from the yoke of Roswell Ronnie.
Roya the Unseen Guest at an Engagement Party
Kush King LoveRat.
This was arguably the most absurd and dimwitted beginning to yet another (sigh) love square. It was rank. It was embarrassing, and yet ... and yet it revealed so many things - tiny things, but things important to the scope of EastEnders at the moment. Bear with me. I'd actually be interested in Mr James's interpretation of this, because I thought of him as I watched these scenes and wondered what he'd make of them.
First, there was a brief glimpse of a Queen Vic Carter - Lee, to be precise; and, wonder of wonders, he was interacting with people who weren't members of his immediate family or Whitney. He, Martin and Fatboy were simply three lads, having a laugh on the market. Apart from Martin, however, neither Fatboy nor Lee have known Kush for any length of time, so I wonder why Carmel didn't suggest members of his football team or his brother? Still it was nice to see Lee outside the Carter enclave, knocking about with people from the community.
Then, there was Carmel. My first impression of her was positive. She reminded me a lot of Peggy in her vocal inflection and mannerisms. Tonight, however, she came across as overbearing and pushy. In fact, she was like an annoying little terrier who wouldn't give up or give in, pressuring Stacey into using her flat as a rehearsal venue for a guys' dance as a surprise for Kush's engagement party, literally roping and hog-tying Stacey into the activity and yet another one using the dead wife as a means of passive-aggressively pushing the issue.
Poor Kush deserves a laugh after having such a hard time of coping after Safira's death. I wonder, did she know that "poor Kush's" means of grieving meant cutting a swathe through a high proportion of the female population frequenting the bars of East London. He may even have a Roya, himself, out there someplace. I also didn't like the way she kept referring to him as "my poor little Kushy," which sounded, weirdly, like some sort of obscene reference to female genitalia.
The worst part of the vignette was Stacey suddenly volunteering by saying ~ I know one routine ~. What? What routine? Was it some sort of actual dance or was it Carmel trying to choreograph one of her exercise routines? Stacey to the rescue, in one of the most contrived pieces of fiction to be brought about. It was destined to be a bomb, but it was also destined to get Stacey and Kush in a situation where they are alone in her flat, with Shabnam frantically trying to find Stacey for a completely different reason. However, this weak point of the storyline actually is part of something bigger and one of the most welcome things DTC has returned to the programme ...
The return of the nuanced character.
We saw one subtle example of this in this piece, and one obvious one. The subtle example was Buster, how he casually walked through the market, but noticed Carol trying to decide whether or not to buy a light, flowery top, and stopped long enough to tell her how much he thought it would compliment her.
This character is growing on me. I hated him at first, and especially when he was presented as a scruffier, poor man's Phil; but I think he's a measured and calm man, who actually listens to what people say and notices people as well. Taking the time to stop and compliment Carol, a woman whom he hardly knows, is something we don't see enough of in this EastEnders, as the scene with the three lads larking about.
The second example, was, of course, Kush, himself.
When Kush arrived, our initial impression was that he was a thoroughly nice guy, and he may well be; but we now know that he used grieving for his dead wife as an excuse, literally, to fuck about the bars of London. One night stands, no commitment ... sorry, lady, I'm still grieving my wife, but you were so nice. It may be sad, but it's the ultimate cop-out and when does genuine grief give way to a pick-up line?
However, after this scene tonight, I'm convinced that Kush doesn't love Stacey. He loves Shabnam, but he's confusing Stacey's mannerisms and nature with that of his dead wife. Something about Stacey reminds him of her, and he's attracted to that. Stacey, on the other hand, does have a moral compass, and keeps telling Kush, as much as she keeps telling herself, that everything she's doing, she's doing for Shabnam and Carmel. However, she's lonely and vulnerable, and if she were thinking straight, she'd realise that he's looking at her and hoping to see his dead wife.
If there were to be a relationship, you'd find that Kush would be constantly looking for comparisons to Safira, and holding Stacey to an impossible standard; whereas, with Shabnam, he knows exactly who and what she is. She isn't Safira, but she's the only woman whom he's wanted to know, both in the personal and conjugal sense, since his wife's death.
Kush loves Shabnam and lusts after Stacey. Both of them should know better. She is not Safirah, and he certainly isn't Bradley.
NonRoya.
Carol. We had a mention of Ricky tonight. He's in Dusseldorf, apparently, judging from the postcard he sent Liam. I wonder, will Dusseldorf and Ricky be Liam's ticket to ride?
Buster's casual compliment and interest made Carol feel good - new top, new haircut with nice highlights and a touch of make-up, and then, Carol lets her demons take over when she gets a letter from the hospital about her breast reconstruction. Carol's rubbing off of her lipstick means she's peeling back her defences and being forced to face a symbol of her mortality.
Roya the Secret Carter.
The Loving Family.
There's no one quite like Grandma ... Shirley. However, Grandma Shirley has negotiated a bit of a windfall. Phil's answer to Lola's lack of employment is to offer Shirley six months' worth of wages for Lola, which he'll pay, if Shirley convinces Dean to give her her job back. Dean's reluctant until he realises that Bank of Phil has paid out. Yet again.
I wonder ... has Dean repaid the entire 10K Shirley borrowed from Phil in order that Dean might establish his own business? Dean made a point of breaking into Phil's bedroom in the early morning, frightening the wits out of Sharon, in order to promise him repayment of a grand weekly.
I wonder ... has Shirley repaid Phil the 10K she borrowed a few weeks back in order to attempt to buy Mick out of the pub?
Now, when Phil pays Lola's wages, meaning - for Dean - that she works for free, instead of keeping the money back for that purpose, Dean and his parents slap it up on a Chinese.
But we're forgetting ... Dean, Shirley and Buster are "the family who loves" Roya/Jade. That's right, a granddad who's spent most of his adult life at Her Majesty's pleasure, an alcoholic coward of a grandmother, with violent tendencies, who bolts at the first sign of trouble in her life, and a father who's a rapist. These people don't even have their own home. They bunk down with a family whose newest member is a criminal with a violent bent, himself.
And Masood "doesn't like the look" of the man who's the child's foster father? Really?
This is the downside of DTC's tenure - that he's lost control of Dean the character. Yes, he's complex. Yes, he has psychological and emotional issues. Yes, he's a misogynist, and we've seen the root cause and the difficulties of his inability to relate to women.
But, like Ronnie, he's committed a serious crime, and he cannot be allowed to stay on the Square. Moreso, making him a father doesn't redeem him in any way. Archie Mitchell was a father. Graham, the man who raped Little Mo, also had children. Wilmot-Brown had kids. They were still rapists.
RoyaRage
Father Knows Best.
How appropos that Masood should enlist Jane the Queen in his quest to find and rescue his granddaughter from the clutches of being a foster child. How totally appropriate that they should sally forth in search of her in the very car that Jane the Queen used to ferry Lucy's lifeless body to its resting place on the Common.
The Car of Death toodles off in search of some new life to inject into the Masood household.
Jane and Masood, notwithstanding Ian, have to be two of the biggest hypocrites the programme has ever seen. Boy, the "happy families" remark certainly hit home with Jane. In all of this, the voice of reason is Tamwar. His association with Nancy has given him his voice and balls. Funny, that ... Ronnie de-balls and de-sexualises any man who gets involved with her. Nancy enhances Tamwar. Time was, Tamwar would have moralised with Masood against Shabnam's moral lapse.
And for all Masood expostulates about his granddaughter, let's not forget that, had Shabnam returned home, pregnant and single, that she'd be returning to the parents who, effectively, shunned her gay brother for more than a year. She'd have been locked away in a darkened room and met with faces of disapproval or worse.
Tamwar is totally right in this instance, and - weirdly and creepily - so is Jane the Queen. Masood needs to listen to Shabnam, who wants no contact with the child. Neither Masood nor Shirley, as grandparents, have any rights to Roya/Jade. Neither do Shabnam and Dean. Dean is an unmarried father, with a criminal record and has been accused of rape. Shabnam abandoned the child. She lost all rights to the child the moment Social Services responded to Fatima's alert. The child is a ward of state, and the court will decide if she'd be better off with her blood relations than in care, and right now, foster care looks the better option.
The girl is seven years old. She has a new name and an established identity. These people are strangers to her, and although the foster dad looks like a rough diamond, it's not true what Masood said, that she'd probably been passed from pillar to post every two years. Foster care isn't like that anymore. Social Services seeks to establish security and equilibrium for kids in care. She may have been with this couple from birth or from when she was a toddler. Adoption is a long and thorough procedure in this country, and foster carers will have been vetted as well.
Fickle Dean wants a child for the wrong reasons, and Shirley thinks that if she can materialise one for him, it will make matters easier between his circumstances and her relationship with Mick. (It won't). Shabnam has moved on. As Tamwar says, she's happy, and for once they're beginning to feel like a family, and Masood has to go stirring shit. And approaching this child without having first approached Social Services isn't going to go in their favour either.
That Jane could preach such sensible advice to Masood, about the child being in a loving and caring environment, about having the child's best interests at heart and realising Shabnam's thoughts about this was positively rich, considering the hell both she and Ian put Cindy through with Beth. The most harrowing scene of the night came when Masood tried to force Shabnam to look at the child's picture, and still he couldn't comprehend the raw intensity and self-hatred that Shabnam screamed when she said she felt dirty and ashamed at having behaved in the way she did, at having conceived a child in a toilet of a nightclub. This strips Shabnam right back to her low self-esteem and fear. Issuing the promise to Masood that if he saw this child again, she'd leave means nothing to Masood. He's offered up this child on a platter to Shirley and Dean, which means - were they to get custody - they'd spend a lifetime under Shabnam's nose, trashmouthing her.
I hope this child isn't Roya and that Fatima was mistaken. I don't want Roya to be Dean's redemption or Shabnam's destruction. Masood is a prick and deserves to be shunned by his children.
Looks like all roads lead to Roya, so the little bits first.
RoxyRoya
Fa-Fa-Fa-FA-Fa Fa Fa-Fa FA Fa.
The clock is ticking.
Roxy better run run run ... run awayyyyyyyy. Ronnie's turned voyeuse watching Roxy and Charlie sit at opposite ends of the lounge and talk. When Roxy confronts her with yet another epiphany - that she's sad and lonely at thirty-six and that she, maybe, should think about taking charge of her life, moving out of the house Ronnie shares with her husband and child and getting a place of her own - how, is anyone's guess, since Roxy only works sporadically, has wasted all her inheritance, and is basically unemployable. (I guess there's always Bank of Phil, if tonight were anything to go by). Line of the night goes to Ronnie, when she urged Roxy to attend Sharon's Singles' Bingo night at The Albert.
Ronnie: You should go.
Roxy: Because meeting sad, old, desperate men is just what I need.
Ronnie: Better than married ones.
Oo-er, missus! Even though Ronnie tries to palm that off as a joke, it's clear, even to Roxy, that Ronnie's barbs still sting. Roxy should take that as a sincere warning to move away ... far far away, and even though Ronnie offers a protest, when Roxy leaves the room with the suggestion that she give Ronnie some space and find a life of her own, as soon as Roxy's out of the room, we're treated to a cold, wicked smile from one of the many psychopaths strutting the streets of Walford.
And whilst Max Branning is sitting in the cafe, spending money he doesn't have, and trolling the papers for a job, Roxy has one landed rignt in her lap - or rather, down her cleavage. She offers to cover Masala Masood for a few hours whilst Masood sneaks off to stalk his secret granddaughter (more on that later).
It's been a long time since we've seen Rita Simons do a comic turn, and she was good at portraying blagging ineptitude tonight, complete with Himesh Patel's straight-faced straight man beside her. From serving a meat dish to a vegetarian and giving him the bonus of a free popadoum to attempting to balance a container of curry and having it splash all down the front of her clothing (I have had a baby before), to the dry exchanges between her and Himesh, that was good for a chuckle, including the line later on to Ronnie ...
I've got most of the curry down my cleavage.
At the end of the fiasco on the stall, Roxy thought herself a self-fulfilling prophecy of ineptitude and inability, thanks to Ronnie's lifelong chant mantra of telling her she was incapable of looking after herself. Ronnie's not best pleased at the prospect of Roxy accepting her fate of having to be mollycoddled by Ronnie for the rest of her life.
For once, and this was subtle, or as subtle as Ronnie is capable, Ronnie wants Roxy out of the loop, away from the equation. Is she naive enough to think that if Roxy were to distance herself geographically, even leave the Square, that Charlie wouldn't be drawn to her like a fly to a moth? Out of sight, out of mind? On the other hand, maybe Ronnie wants her away so, in the inevitability of something happening between Roxy and Charlie, Roxy would avoid getting hurt. By Ronnie, and when Ronnie hurts, she hurts to kill.
As things turn out, Roxy's a necessary tool in yet another deception. Masood offers her a job assisting him on the Masala stall, which is nothing more than a cover for his absences as he goes off to stalk a child who will regard him as a stranger.
Poor Roxy. She gets used again.
I doubt Masood's wages will be enough to free her from the yoke of Roswell Ronnie.
Roya the Unseen Guest at an Engagement Party
Kush King LoveRat.
This was arguably the most absurd and dimwitted beginning to yet another (sigh) love square. It was rank. It was embarrassing, and yet ... and yet it revealed so many things - tiny things, but things important to the scope of EastEnders at the moment. Bear with me. I'd actually be interested in Mr James's interpretation of this, because I thought of him as I watched these scenes and wondered what he'd make of them.
First, there was a brief glimpse of a Queen Vic Carter - Lee, to be precise; and, wonder of wonders, he was interacting with people who weren't members of his immediate family or Whitney. He, Martin and Fatboy were simply three lads, having a laugh on the market. Apart from Martin, however, neither Fatboy nor Lee have known Kush for any length of time, so I wonder why Carmel didn't suggest members of his football team or his brother? Still it was nice to see Lee outside the Carter enclave, knocking about with people from the community.
Then, there was Carmel. My first impression of her was positive. She reminded me a lot of Peggy in her vocal inflection and mannerisms. Tonight, however, she came across as overbearing and pushy. In fact, she was like an annoying little terrier who wouldn't give up or give in, pressuring Stacey into using her flat as a rehearsal venue for a guys' dance as a surprise for Kush's engagement party, literally roping and hog-tying Stacey into the activity and yet another one using the dead wife as a means of passive-aggressively pushing the issue.
Poor Kush deserves a laugh after having such a hard time of coping after Safira's death. I wonder, did she know that "poor Kush's" means of grieving meant cutting a swathe through a high proportion of the female population frequenting the bars of East London. He may even have a Roya, himself, out there someplace. I also didn't like the way she kept referring to him as "my poor little Kushy," which sounded, weirdly, like some sort of obscene reference to female genitalia.
The worst part of the vignette was Stacey suddenly volunteering by saying ~ I know one routine ~. What? What routine? Was it some sort of actual dance or was it Carmel trying to choreograph one of her exercise routines? Stacey to the rescue, in one of the most contrived pieces of fiction to be brought about. It was destined to be a bomb, but it was also destined to get Stacey and Kush in a situation where they are alone in her flat, with Shabnam frantically trying to find Stacey for a completely different reason. However, this weak point of the storyline actually is part of something bigger and one of the most welcome things DTC has returned to the programme ...
The return of the nuanced character.
We saw one subtle example of this in this piece, and one obvious one. The subtle example was Buster, how he casually walked through the market, but noticed Carol trying to decide whether or not to buy a light, flowery top, and stopped long enough to tell her how much he thought it would compliment her.
This character is growing on me. I hated him at first, and especially when he was presented as a scruffier, poor man's Phil; but I think he's a measured and calm man, who actually listens to what people say and notices people as well. Taking the time to stop and compliment Carol, a woman whom he hardly knows, is something we don't see enough of in this EastEnders, as the scene with the three lads larking about.
The second example, was, of course, Kush, himself.
When Kush arrived, our initial impression was that he was a thoroughly nice guy, and he may well be; but we now know that he used grieving for his dead wife as an excuse, literally, to fuck about the bars of London. One night stands, no commitment ... sorry, lady, I'm still grieving my wife, but you were so nice. It may be sad, but it's the ultimate cop-out and when does genuine grief give way to a pick-up line?
However, after this scene tonight, I'm convinced that Kush doesn't love Stacey. He loves Shabnam, but he's confusing Stacey's mannerisms and nature with that of his dead wife. Something about Stacey reminds him of her, and he's attracted to that. Stacey, on the other hand, does have a moral compass, and keeps telling Kush, as much as she keeps telling herself, that everything she's doing, she's doing for Shabnam and Carmel. However, she's lonely and vulnerable, and if she were thinking straight, she'd realise that he's looking at her and hoping to see his dead wife.
If there were to be a relationship, you'd find that Kush would be constantly looking for comparisons to Safira, and holding Stacey to an impossible standard; whereas, with Shabnam, he knows exactly who and what she is. She isn't Safira, but she's the only woman whom he's wanted to know, both in the personal and conjugal sense, since his wife's death.
Kush loves Shabnam and lusts after Stacey. Both of them should know better. She is not Safirah, and he certainly isn't Bradley.
NonRoya.
Carol. We had a mention of Ricky tonight. He's in Dusseldorf, apparently, judging from the postcard he sent Liam. I wonder, will Dusseldorf and Ricky be Liam's ticket to ride?
Buster's casual compliment and interest made Carol feel good - new top, new haircut with nice highlights and a touch of make-up, and then, Carol lets her demons take over when she gets a letter from the hospital about her breast reconstruction. Carol's rubbing off of her lipstick means she's peeling back her defences and being forced to face a symbol of her mortality.
Roya the Secret Carter.
The Loving Family.
There's no one quite like Grandma ... Shirley. However, Grandma Shirley has negotiated a bit of a windfall. Phil's answer to Lola's lack of employment is to offer Shirley six months' worth of wages for Lola, which he'll pay, if Shirley convinces Dean to give her her job back. Dean's reluctant until he realises that Bank of Phil has paid out. Yet again.
I wonder ... has Dean repaid the entire 10K Shirley borrowed from Phil in order that Dean might establish his own business? Dean made a point of breaking into Phil's bedroom in the early morning, frightening the wits out of Sharon, in order to promise him repayment of a grand weekly.
I wonder ... has Shirley repaid Phil the 10K she borrowed a few weeks back in order to attempt to buy Mick out of the pub?
Now, when Phil pays Lola's wages, meaning - for Dean - that she works for free, instead of keeping the money back for that purpose, Dean and his parents slap it up on a Chinese.
But we're forgetting ... Dean, Shirley and Buster are "the family who loves" Roya/Jade. That's right, a granddad who's spent most of his adult life at Her Majesty's pleasure, an alcoholic coward of a grandmother, with violent tendencies, who bolts at the first sign of trouble in her life, and a father who's a rapist. These people don't even have their own home. They bunk down with a family whose newest member is a criminal with a violent bent, himself.
And Masood "doesn't like the look" of the man who's the child's foster father? Really?
This is the downside of DTC's tenure - that he's lost control of Dean the character. Yes, he's complex. Yes, he has psychological and emotional issues. Yes, he's a misogynist, and we've seen the root cause and the difficulties of his inability to relate to women.
But, like Ronnie, he's committed a serious crime, and he cannot be allowed to stay on the Square. Moreso, making him a father doesn't redeem him in any way. Archie Mitchell was a father. Graham, the man who raped Little Mo, also had children. Wilmot-Brown had kids. They were still rapists.
RoyaRage
Father Knows Best.
How appropos that Masood should enlist Jane the Queen in his quest to find and rescue his granddaughter from the clutches of being a foster child. How totally appropriate that they should sally forth in search of her in the very car that Jane the Queen used to ferry Lucy's lifeless body to its resting place on the Common.
The Car of Death toodles off in search of some new life to inject into the Masood household.
Jane and Masood, notwithstanding Ian, have to be two of the biggest hypocrites the programme has ever seen. Boy, the "happy families" remark certainly hit home with Jane. In all of this, the voice of reason is Tamwar. His association with Nancy has given him his voice and balls. Funny, that ... Ronnie de-balls and de-sexualises any man who gets involved with her. Nancy enhances Tamwar. Time was, Tamwar would have moralised with Masood against Shabnam's moral lapse.
And for all Masood expostulates about his granddaughter, let's not forget that, had Shabnam returned home, pregnant and single, that she'd be returning to the parents who, effectively, shunned her gay brother for more than a year. She'd have been locked away in a darkened room and met with faces of disapproval or worse.
Tamwar is totally right in this instance, and - weirdly and creepily - so is Jane the Queen. Masood needs to listen to Shabnam, who wants no contact with the child. Neither Masood nor Shirley, as grandparents, have any rights to Roya/Jade. Neither do Shabnam and Dean. Dean is an unmarried father, with a criminal record and has been accused of rape. Shabnam abandoned the child. She lost all rights to the child the moment Social Services responded to Fatima's alert. The child is a ward of state, and the court will decide if she'd be better off with her blood relations than in care, and right now, foster care looks the better option.
The girl is seven years old. She has a new name and an established identity. These people are strangers to her, and although the foster dad looks like a rough diamond, it's not true what Masood said, that she'd probably been passed from pillar to post every two years. Foster care isn't like that anymore. Social Services seeks to establish security and equilibrium for kids in care. She may have been with this couple from birth or from when she was a toddler. Adoption is a long and thorough procedure in this country, and foster carers will have been vetted as well.
Fickle Dean wants a child for the wrong reasons, and Shirley thinks that if she can materialise one for him, it will make matters easier between his circumstances and her relationship with Mick. (It won't). Shabnam has moved on. As Tamwar says, she's happy, and for once they're beginning to feel like a family, and Masood has to go stirring shit. And approaching this child without having first approached Social Services isn't going to go in their favour either.
That Jane could preach such sensible advice to Masood, about the child being in a loving and caring environment, about having the child's best interests at heart and realising Shabnam's thoughts about this was positively rich, considering the hell both she and Ian put Cindy through with Beth. The most harrowing scene of the night came when Masood tried to force Shabnam to look at the child's picture, and still he couldn't comprehend the raw intensity and self-hatred that Shabnam screamed when she said she felt dirty and ashamed at having behaved in the way she did, at having conceived a child in a toilet of a nightclub. This strips Shabnam right back to her low self-esteem and fear. Issuing the promise to Masood that if he saw this child again, she'd leave means nothing to Masood. He's offered up this child on a platter to Shirley and Dean, which means - were they to get custody - they'd spend a lifetime under Shabnam's nose, trashmouthing her.
I hope this child isn't Roya and that Fatima was mistaken. I don't want Roya to be Dean's redemption or Shabnam's destruction. Masood is a prick and deserves to be shunned by his children.
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