Brian ups the ante and Jennifer puts her foot down: tensions rise in Ambridge

Aldridge plans courtroom costume drama  

How Mr Aldridge might look in court
(artist's impression)

Brian Aldridge, beleaguered owner of Home Farm, shocked associates this week by revealing he is going to attend his upcoming court case dressed as a pantomime horse.

Mr Aldridge said he will plead not guilty to charges of knowingly polluting a water course by allowing toxic waste to be buried on Home Farm land 40 years ago.

‘The law is a horse’s ass and I am going to prove it,’ he announced to a hastily called press conference. ‘It’s about time someone took a stand on behalf of the little people like me – down to my last few hundred acres and barely a million in the bank – against the faceless bureaucrats of the Environment Agency. 

‘Having my case heard in the Crown Court, with a jury of my peers – well, not quite my peers of course, but more ordinary people – is my chance to see exactly what evidence they have against me. Not that I’ll be able to see much wearing a horse’s head. But I will be wearing the saddle of truth and the bridle of righteousness, not forgetting the spurs of justice. The truth will out!’

The hearing is scheduled for February 5.

Coffee break with… Natasha 

In our occasional series of interviews with readers who have interesting jobs, we catch up with the dynamic young businesswoman who’s making a big impact at Bridge Farm and is known to everyone as just ‘Natasha’.

Q Hi, Natasha. Sorry we couldn’t meet for an actual cup of coffee. But you’re so busy these days!

A Yes, today you’ve caught me driving from deepest Wales, where I live because I’m very Welsh,  to Shropshire, where one of the little people who supplies my fruit juice business is based. It’s all go! But I’ve always got time for the media. The media is the message, and the message is the media, I always say.

Q And we hear you’re behind the new commercial fruit tree operation at Bridge Farm?

A Oh no, that’s all down to Tom Archer – he’s brilliant at doing exactly what I tell him. All I do is a bit of encouragement here, and a bit of coaching there, then it’s just hard work. Inspiration is perspiration, and perspiration is inspiration, if you know what I mean? And actually, as I said to Tom’s mum Pat, I’ve got a brilliant product for controlling excessive sweating. Got rid of her underarm damp patches in no time, it did. 

Q That would be from your first successful business in cosmetics? And now you’re branching out into organic beef production? That’s quite a leap.

A Yes – as I said to Tom, you’d think I’d had enough of ugly old cows in the beauty business! But his dad loves his Anguses, and to be fair, they do look tidy. Can’t go wrong with a black coat. So we’re going to breed them and sell the beef in Bridge Farm’s all-new app-based farmers’ market in a box franchise concept. As I always say, the problem lies in the solution, and the solution lies in the problem. Sorted, isn’t it? Bye!

The Trials of … Jennifer Aldridge

In the latest chapter of our passionate family saga, by award-winning romantic novelist Lavinia Catwater, our heroine must make a heart-rending choice between love, honour and family…

‘Oh, Adam, darling!’ After weeks of misery, managing on just four electric rings and a microwave, and then that mortifying business of chopping through Kirsty Miller’s telephone cable (no doubt  poor quality), it seemed to Jennifer that Fate was smiling on her at last. 

‘LEXI’s having a BABY! For YOU and IAN! That’s so marvellous!’ She flung her arms round her son’s neck, heedless of the crowds, crushing her Felpersham Half-Marathon programme.

‘Be quiet, mother!’ Adam’s manly jaw set in a firm line and his steel-blue eyes flashed. ‘Everyone will hear you. You’ve got to promise to keep it completely secret, until – well, until I’ve had time to come round to the idea.’

 ‘But Adam…’ Jennifer searched his troubled, handsome face. ‘It’s what you’ve wanted for so long – and once you hear his or her little heartbeat and Lexi feels him kick… a little grandchild! Oh, I’m so looking forward to it all!’

‘Yes, well, about that, … Lexi’s going to Bulgaria for the pregnancy. It’s what she wants. Sorry.’ 

At once, the winter sun seemed to go in, and Jennifer felt crushed once more.

‘Oh well, if that’s what you’ve decided, darling,’ she said, blinking back tears.

 Jazzer McCreary thrust a rattling collection tin under her nose. ‘What’s up, hen? You look like you’ve lost a haggis and found a mouldy bannock!’

But not even his cheerful Scots banter could cheer her up now…

*

Jennifer surveyed the anxious faces squeezed round the Melamine dining table in Willow Cottage. 

‘Make this brief, Jenny,’ Brian growled. ‘Yes, what is it mum?’ said Alice. ‘I say, is this vodka?’ She slurped her water and made a disappointed face. 

Jennifer took a deep breath. ‘I have convened this emergency partners’ meeting because Brian intends to plead Not Guilty at his court case,’ she said. 

‘What? But they’ve got you banged to rights, pet,’ Ruth said in her down-to-earth way.

‘Who says so?’ Brian thundered. ‘Things were different then. It’s their word against mine and I want my day in court. And you’ll all support me. It’s about family loyalty.’

‘Cheers dad! Way to go! That calls for a drink!” Alice waved her water glass hopefully. Everyone ignored her.

Jennifer stood up, feeling sick and shaky. ‘I have told your father that if he insists on this ruinous path, our marriage is over,’ she said.

 ‘Good for you, Jennifer,’ said Ruth. ‘If that doesn’t make the old goat see sense, nothing will. Right, I’m off. There’s a haggis with my name on it at The Bull.’

‘I’m coming with you. Mine’s a large one!’ said Alice, following her out.

‘And I can’t listen to any more of this. You’ve finally lost it this time, Brian.’ Adam stormed out of the house, slamming the door so the thin walls shook. 

Jennifer looked at her husband, who was pouring himself a stiff whisky. A heavy silence hung between them.

Jennifer sank back into her chair. She closed her eyes, then jumped at a loud banging on the wall. Kirsty, no doubt protesting at the slammed door. She sighed. Would this nightmare never end? 

To be continued….