It was such a shock. At first I couldn’t understand what was going on. Why were they all talking about Sid as if he was in the past?
It was such a shock. At first I couldn’t understand what was going on. Why were they all talking about Sid as if he was in the past? I’d only been away for a few days. Surely nothing really major could have happened in Ambridge in the meantime? And especially not to Sid, who as far as I knew was safely ensconced in New Zealand on the trip of a lifetime to meet his new grandson. I listened to the next episode and still had no clue. A party for Sid? But he’s not around. Jolene in tears? But she’s usually such a toughie.
A very nasty trick has been played on us by the scriptwriters. Much of the fun of listening to long-running soaps (and at 59 years The Archers has run longer than any) is figuring out what’s going to happen before it does. It’s a way of playing god with life. You know everyone in the cast almost as well as you know your family. You’ve been overhearing their petty deceits and minor disputes for as long as you can remember. Sometimes you tune in religiously every evening; at others you leave them to get along without you and when you tune back in nothing much will have changed. You become so familiar with the rhythm of life in Borsetshire that you feel able to detect the smallest hint of change or looming disaster. It’s that feeling of power that keeps us hooked in; a sense of control, of being in charge of things. It feels real, and yet has the boon of being fictional and therefore predictable.
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