planning the third fic of this extended ramtteo universe series im not entirely sure what im doing with (the second one is basically done and will probably be posted tomorrow bc it's pretty short)

these are my favourite lines of the plan

Jim is surprised, Yam is not, and questions both her girlfriend’s and Ramiro’s gaydar.

Gastón is very surprised at this information overload but takes it like a champ and is super supportive, as expected. 

"You Can Tell Me Anything!"

Monday 30th November 2020

Hello again everyone! A brand new week starting on the Square, I'm this week is going to be a jam packed one, everything is going to be set in stone for the run up to Christmas now! I am officially back at my second job tomorrow after the lockdown, so I will be trying my absolute to write a blog as much as I can. With working two jobs as well as trying to seeing family, friends and my partner, it's going to be a hectic month that's for sure! I hope you're all feeling festive and are going to start enjoying the days leading up to Christmas, there is going to be so much drama over the next few weeks I can't wait to see what happens!

Anyway, let's jump right in with the episode, it begins with Linda outside her apartment, as Shirley watches from the other side of the Square, Mick darts out of the apartment in such a rush that he barely says a word to both Linda and Shirley. Linda tries to question where he's going and attempts to remind him that they had plans to take Ollie to school together, but Mick is so fixated on getting to where he needs to be, he doesn't bat an eyelid to his wife and simply says "Another time!". Even as his Mum tries approaching him as he walks past her, trying to inform him that she's ready for that talk he previously wanted, whenever he's wanting to talk - he simply ignores her and reaches for his phone. As he continues to storm off down the street, Linda and Shirley share a look of complete defeat as Mick calls Katy to inform her that he's on his way to meet her. I would absolutely love to know what Linda and Shirley are going to make of all of this once they find out!

Meanwhile, at the Branning household, as Max is eating his breakfast, he hears a lot of commotion happening upstairs, Jack and Amy are simply having a Father-Daughter argument. From what I can make out, Amy is arguing with her Dad about there not being enough food in the house for her to have, to which she storms out of the house leaving Jack in the house alone with Max. As Jack enters the room, Max questions Amy's behaviour, he points out to his brother that they wouldn't speak to their parents like the way Amy did to Jack. However, Jack is quick to defend his daughter, he explains that Amy is getting older, she doesn't have a mum to look out for her anymore, (R.I.P Roxy!) and Jack is now back at work, working all sorts of crazy hours they don't really get to spend time together anymore. He mentions that with his daughter growing up and slowly becoming a teenager, it doesn't seem right that she should have to share a bedroom with her brother, Ricky, it's about time she deserves her own bedroom, which basically means for Max is that he'll have to move out. Max is deeply frustrated by this news and storms out the room.

Meanwhile, Mick has caught up with Katy in the park, he seems to be ... Nervous? Agitated? I'm not too sure, he's informing Katy that he's been thinking of nothing else but going to visiting the building he spent his childhood in. Katy is sat as she watches him pace backwards and forwards, she suggests that maybe going to see this building might not be a good idea, as it could make things a hell of a lot worse for Mick and maybe bring back more memories that he'd much rather forget. You can really tell in Katy's eyes that she really doesn't want to go ahead with Mick's idea. Would it mean that her dark secret would come to light even more?! As Mick and Katy are having this conversation in the park, Shirley and Linda have met up in Gray's household, after seeing Mick outside on the Square. It looks as if Shirley has informed Linda about her husband approaching his Mum the other day when she was put in a very difficult spot, she was stuck in the middle of a crisis to be fair. They sit at the table together a begin to discuss Mick, they both know that something isn't right, something is going on inside his head and neither of them are able to reach out to him and help him to understand what's going on. Linda recalls how it's 31 years to the day that they were 12 years old and they faked their own wedding day, promising to be there for each other every day no matter what. Linda explains to her Mother-In-Law that he's not the same Mick anymore, something has changed inside him and he's pushing everyone he loves away.

Returning to Mick and Katy, they seem to be approaching a rundown building which is all boarded up and surrounded by fence. This scene I also felt was pretty important, Mick stares at the building as Katy suggests making a move, she uses the excuse it of being boarded up that his idea is pointless, although deep down, I am certain that she is quivery in her boots incase Mick remembers something she doesn't want him to. As Mick crouches the floor which almost looks like it's a rubble patch on the floor which was used for a bonfire, suddenly it looks as if Mick gets a flashback from his childhood of him and other kids using sparklers and giggling on what appears to be bonfire night. He informs Katy that she doesn't have to stay with him, but she takes no notice and insists on being there with him. As they walk around the building to another side, Mick approaches another door which has been completely boarded up, with his bare hands he attempts to rip the material away from the door, cutting himself in the process, as Katy offers him a hanky or a tissue to wipe his hand, he ignore her offer and continues to break the board away from the door.

Meanwhile, at the Vic, Stuart and Rainie are eating with Tiffany, little Abi is playing beside them on the floor. Out of nowhere, Rainie asks Tiffany a very personal question, when he last period was! Both Tiffany and Stuart share a look of amazement as Rainie continues to explain to Tiffany that she can keep track of her cycle on an app. After hearing enough information, Stuart speaks up to his wife and informs her that they don't really need to focus on things like that, to which Tiffany agrees. As Tiffany excuses herself to go the toilet, she sarcastically tells Rainie that she can go with her, although it looks as if Rainie almost takes her seriously as she begins to stand up. But as Tiffany walks away, Stuart tries to have a quiet word with his wife, he needs to remind her that they agreed they'd back off a little bit where Tiffany is concerned. He fears that if Rainie keeps carrying on the way she is, there may be a chance that there will not be a baby, considering there hasn't been any official paperwork that they've signed yet. However, as Stuart and Rainie are having this quiet conversation, Ian appears to be watching them as he clears glasses from the bar, seriously - why is he earwigging on such a private conversation?! It has nothing to do with him! As he continues to clear glasses, he takes one away from the table that the Panesar family are sitting at, Suki is quick to inform him that she's still drinking the glass he took away, sorry - but I thought Ian was looking so smug during this moment - he actually looks into the glass, claims it to be empty and says that the Landlord's word is final! - (Sorry but a pub would never be successful if the Landlord went round collecting drinks that were unfinished, especially if punters were still drinking from them - they'd be out of business instantly!! How can Ian even say those words?!) - Suki reminds Ian that they have some unfinished business to attend to, but Ian isn't interested in what she's got to say! She informs him that due to the story he leaked to the newspapers, he has lost her business, to which he feel no remorse, no sympathy, not even apologetic. As he walks away Kheerat whispers to his Mother that she's surprised she's let Ian get away with his actions, however Suki informs her son that she has a plan of getting payback on him. As Ian makes his way behind the bar, Max makes his way into the pub and confronts Ian, demanding that he wants his money back that he's owed and he wants no more of Ian's excuses. Ian attempts to explain that no matter how hard he's trying, he keeps getting pushed back - although we all know that Ian simply doesn't have the money - Max demands that the only way he can get his money back is to put The Queen Vic up for sale and he warns him that if he doesn't, he'll move into the Vic himself and throw Sharon and Albie out!!

Returning to Mick and Katy, the continue to wonder about the abandoned building, all sorts of different furniture left to rot. As Mick approaches a staircase, he recalls his bedroom being right at the very top. Katy continues to make excuses for leaving the building, but Mick ignores her concerns and continues to recall about his childhood memories, the fact that he when he first arrived there after his Mum disappeared, all the boys just stood and stared at him. He begins to explain that he went to visit Shirley the previous day to seek her help, but he shrugs and reveals that she was too busy doing other things - its then that Katy clings to that information about Shirley and begins to suggest that maybe his problem lies with his Mother, not the fact he spent his childhood in a home, but the reason why he came to be there in the first place. However, Mick is adamant that that has nothing to do with his thoughts that are flooding his head, he explains to Katy that there is something that he just can't seem to grasp. But from the look of Katy's face, she's looking as if she doesn't want Mick to figure out that one more thing that's missing.

Back on the Square, Linda has popped into the Minute Mart where Honey is informing her about Kat and Kush leaving the Square so suddenly. However Linda isn't the slight bit interested and asks Honey to serve her a bottle of white rum, only as she asks for the alcohol, Max makes his appearance and over hears Linda's request. Honey looks to Linda in concern and asks her whether it's a good idea to serve her the alcohol, but Linda reassures her that it's not for her, it's for Mick instead and they're actually celebrating! Honey happily passes over the bottle of rum to Linda, she and Max both share a slight look before she turns and walks out the shop.

Meanwhile, Mick is continuing to reminisce about his time in the old foster home. He explains to Katy that the issue with his Mum isn't the thing that appears to be bugging him, he reveals that it has something to do with the place he spent his childhood. As Katy sits beside him, she begins to recall a time of when Mick was 12 years old and he got chased by a boy who was holding a lit sparkler and burnt a hole in one of his favourite shirts. However, interestingly, Mick recalls how that day ended - he vocally remembers going back to Katy's place and removing his shirt. This conversation seems to be heading in a really dark direction as Mick is staring at her with his dark eyes, Katy begins to get her version of the story, which involves Mick and another boy crushing crisps into her carpet that she had to clean up. It looks as if Mick knows she's lying, you think he's about to mention what really happened between them that night, but he simply agrees and suggests they leave the abandoned building. As he gets up to leave, the relief in Katy's face is absolute undeniable!! You can see that she's clearly relieved to get out of there before Mick can recall the truth of what really happened.

Back at the Vic, Ian is attempting to get in touch with someone who will offer him a loan, I'm guessing?! But it seems that he's having no luck! As Sharon tidies the bar, Rainie and Stuart are fussing over Albie, commenting on how gorgeous the little boy is, Sharon smiles with pride at how her young son can fall asleep in such a busy bar. Only Ian seem to interrupt their conversation quite abruptly, informing he needs to have a quick word with Sharon when she gets a free moment. As Sharon make her way behind the bar, Rainie comments how Ian's appearance - claiming he's looking a bit more sweatier than usual, obviously trying to make a harmless joke, but Ian isn't in the mood for jokes at this moment in time. He clocks Whitney coming in the pub and approaching the bar and - of course - he takes his opportunity to spoil things for Rainie and Stuart. He questions them, quite loudly, how they'd managed to convince Tiffany into their deal? And as Ian wanted, Whitney questions what he's talking about - much to Stuart and Rainie's shock and dismay - he informs Whitney (in not so many polite words) that Tiffany has agreed to be Rainie and Stuart's surrogate so they can have a baby. Whitney rushes her way out of the Vic, assuming to find Tiffany, leaving both Rainie and Stuart completely annoyed that Ian has announced their plans in such a smug and vile way.

Back at the Carter household, Linda looks as if she's changed to go out for a party, she looks completely and utterly fed up, like she's waiting for someone. Suddenly footsteps can be heard approaching and as she get up to greet her husband, we can see that she's decorated their apartment with 90s theme music and banners. It looks like that she's spent all afternoon creating something special for her husband, she appears so happy to see her husband enter the room, whereas Mick is looks in surprise at his wife decorations. She notices Mick's wound as he approaches the sink to wash it clean. She reminds Mick that it's their non-wedding anniversary, as she recalls them that 31 years to the day they had a pretend wedding, promising each other that they'll always be best friends and that they'll always be truthful to one another. I did find this scene a little sad, Linda is pleading for her husband to notice her, acknowledge the effort she has made for him, but he simply doesn't have anything to say. She pleads for him to say something, but as he remains silent she realises that her husband isn't going to respond, removing her fish-net gloves she sits on the sofa looking incredibly devastated. Its then that Mick turns around and says to her very softly that she has done something incredibly lovely for him, her head looks up in a sense of hope that this will make him happy, but once again he uses the excuse that he's exhausted and makes his way to the bedroom. Linda follows him in absolute dismay and disbelief that he really isn't interested in the effort she has made for him, she bellows and bangs on the bedroom door as he shuts himself away. Softly they both cry on opposite sides of the door, Mick crouching himself to the floor on one side and Linda bows her head on the other.

Returning to the Vic, Ian looks as if he's finally come to realise that he's struggling to cope with everyone demanding him to pay them back. As Sharon notices that Ian is sat in the kitchen alone, he reveals that he's slowly sinking, he explains that Suki is now on his case, plus he's having to pay his Mum back as well as owing Max his money, he's struggling to get the funds to pay everyone back. He announces to Sharon that he has no other choice but to put the Queen Vic up for sale. Sharon pleads to him not to it, but as much as he promises that both she and Albie will be looked after, he simply has no other choice. Sharon suggests he takes a loan out on the Chippy, but once again that will be more money to cough up - which he doesn't have - and even admits that he's tried but the bank don't want to touch it. Sharon tries her absolute best to console her friend, he reminds him that he's had money problems once before and he's managed to find a way to solve it, what's to stop him this time?! Ian informs Sharon that if he doesn't sell the Vic, Max has threatened to move in himself and throw both her and young Albie out - Sharon then informs Ian that Max can try all he likes, but she won't budge. She tries to reassure her friend and promises to be by his side, she instructs him to tell Max that he will get his money all in good time and that he won't be putting the Queen Vic on the market!

The final scene, we're in the park. Linda is sat alone on the swing, holding a bottle of alcohol in her hands, she's looking incredibly teary as she begins to remove the cap from the bottle. Suddenly Max approaches her from behind and informs her gently that whatever has made her upset, drinking a bottle isn't going to help the situation, poor Linda looks like a completely lost soul, she simply looks up at him and says "Then what will?" - he looks to one side and persuade her to follow him. Eventually they find themselves in the kitchen of the restaurant, Max pouring the alcohol down the sink as she's sat upon one of the counters. He questions what's made her upset as he comments that she looked as if she was about the down the whole bottle when he found her. Linda reveals to Max that she can't seem to understand how and why she has gotten to this point in her life, she always believed that her and Mick's marriage would be solid. Max tries to reassure her that Mick loves her, but from what I can make - she seems to believe that Mick's distance is down to what she's put him through over the past few months with her alcoholism. It looks as if she blames herself for Mick's behaviour and why he's being so distant with her. Suddenly Max tells her that if that is the case, then Mick doesn't see her how he sees her (this seems to grab Linda's attention instantly) - Max explains that he'll always be there for her to try and keep her sober, he promises her that she can go to him for anything, they're mates and she can talk to him about anything. Suddenly Linda plants her lips against Max's and they're in a passion embrace. Only unbeknown to them, Ian make his way into the restaurant, he appears to be looking for something but - of course - he happens to look straight ahead and sees Max and Linda in their passionate embrace. He's left with an absolute smug grin on his face!!!

Oooooh what is he going to do now after finding him in that position? Will he maybe blackmail him?! Will he threaten to inform Mick? What is Linda going to do now after kissing Max for a second time? It's understandable she's been wanting this type of attention for a long time, and her husband hasn't been in the right frame of mind to give her that attention she so desperately craves, even when she's spent so much time trying to help him, understand him and be there for him. Mick doesn't seem to realise that he really is pushing everyone away. Things need to start getting fixed and urgently! What do you guys think?! Thank you so much for reading! I'm really looking forward to seeing what happens next! I'll be back tomorrow evening following tonight's episode! Thank you all for your on-going support! Love you all xXx

TEASER [for my next writing project]

Yeah, yeah, I know I’ve been a little quiet lately, but I assure you it is with good reason! While OLLIE is making its final edits before heading out on submission, and now that I’ve revamped PINTO anew, I started something totally original to follow after. Here’s a snippet of what I’ve written so far. You Downton heads will be happy to find we’re back in the 20′s again :) 

When the lads at the pub asked why I did it, I told ‘em it were on account of those tarty London whores. Couldn’t stop thinking about them, I said – what, with their plunging necklines and thick tits and all – who had time for a proper wifey? It would have only been cruel to little Marlene if I’d gone through with it, sharing a bed with her while I dreamed up all the dirty things I’d like to do with a fat-arsed slut on hands and knees. Of course, the boys agreed: they said as much with the two rounds of ale they stood up for me while I made my confession. Besides, it weren’t really that much of a fib. Not really.

In actuality, the truth was dull, and affected me in a nuanced fashion that required the sort of context you don’t talk about – even at the pub. Most of me Liverpuddle mates were shipyard blokes – real salt of the earth, Cammell Laird types – and already liked to have a laugh over how soft a career in service had made me hands, of how nice me nails were. It was unlikely that they’d understand why a plain letter in the post would be reason enough to bin a pretty lass and all the carnal accoutrements that came with her.

“But I seen her, your Marlene,” said Fat Rupert, a riveter from Birkenhead. He was a hefty bloke with an even heftier moustache, which twitched whenever he spoke. “Such a pretty, coy thing. And that small mouth – like a tight, little bud.”

“Bet she were a tight, little virgin, too,” interjected Will, lifting his fourth pint glass high and punctuating his declaration with a hearty belch. “She certainly giggled like one.”

“That’s the trouble,” says I, trying me barmy best to burst over the irrelevant detail.

“How?” Fat Rupert guffawed, slurping at his ale. It were rather disgusting how the head of his beer caked his thick whiskers, like a walrus cutting through seafoam. “Ain’t noffin’ better’n the maiden voyage.”

“I think I prefer the experienced ones,” I offered vaguely, drowning the details in another hearty glug-glug-glug of ale.

“Ohh,” hummed Will; “Hence the whores.”

“Right, the whores,” I agreed distantly, my head otherwise stuffed fat with nostalgia for Quince Orchard Park and the life I used to lead there. Blame it on that infernal letter, anticipated and unexpected all at once. If I were half as clever as I liked to boast, I’d’ve never writ the card that prompted the reply, and I’d’ve married Marlene without ever thinking of old Holly again. The wedding was marked for summer’s end, but all I could think of was how Holly and I once ruled the servants’ hall of Quince Orchard. Smug, oily and bursting with havoc, those had been the days! How spoilt I’d been to take that for granted, and yet, here I was, drowning in hubris and beer. The card were only meant it as a courtesy – the sort of last ditch call that disguises a farewell to times you only just realized were happy ones. What I got mailed in return was the uncorking of the turmoil I thought I’d repressed ages ago, and an onset of verklempt mania.

“I don’t see why you’ve got to choose,” inserted Fat Rupert, moustache sweeping the rim of his pint glass. “Marry the virgin, fuck the whores – that’s what I’d do.”

“What it is, right, is complicated,” I snapped, clutching my own glass so tightly, I thought I might crush it in my fist.

Will snorted, somehow managing wry, idiotic amusement in the halo of my irritation. “All this comin’ from the corker who fucked His Lordship’s daughter. Ain’t you bein’ a bit, well, prude, like?”

“Ain’t prude to be prudent,” I retorted, slamming my glass onto the bar with enough force to startle Fat Rupert. “And if you’ll recall, all that mess got me the sack, and here I am, workin’ the docks with you lousy sods.”

“Sounds like a fat cat whining after his fat lifestyle,” Will simpered. He was a true product of Liverpool – a real Scoucer spawned in the mucky Mersey River and left to crumble in the shipyards like a dried-out barnacle. To Will, anything from the countryside constituted as posh, even if it was only a stiff job in service that had more to do with how pretty your face was than owt else. Lucky breeding made me tall enough, fit enough – and just German enough to pass as goyish. It were the only reason I managed to find work after I came home from France, so I wasn’t about to complain. That was Will’s bit.

Fat Rupert’s empathy was only slightly more reassuring. He clapped me on the back with enough force to bruise. “Sounds more like the cat’s just got cold paws.” he chortled, massaging the welt he’d smacked through my shirt. “Don’t worry, me laddo. Happens to the best of us. You got your whole life to try again!”

But Will wouldn’t let it go – most likely because he couldn’t catch a woman if his life depended on it. “So our Eddie’s man enough to face the Kaiser’s guns, but he can’t hook a gel?” he hiccupped, just short of spilling his ale onto Fat Rupert’s duffle coat, which was disgusting and sooty, but still marked with the chevrons he’d earned after Verdun. The near-accident got Will the full strength of Fat Rupert’s mishegas, which usually spiked after the third drink or so.

“Our Eddie drove a tank through Cambrai whilst you were in convalescence,” Fat Rupert snapped, a hammy finger right in Will’s chest. His mustache bristled, reddish whiskers clashing against his ruddy drunkard’s cheeks.

“Yeah, and me leg’s still dodgy, you jerk’n’bed,” sniffed Will, unperturbed. As if to prove his point, he rapped a creaky knee with the back of his hand, though it was hard to know how much of it was just mithering. Will and Fat Rupert had this particular argument on a weekly basis, as steady as clockwork and about as melodramatic as a radio play. I let them drag on, too lost in me own head to worry about which one of them were goin’ to get laid out first. Besides, it distracted them from their nosy questions about Marlene, and why the mere reminder of Holly warranted such an abrupt change in plan. Not that I’d even got that far in my explanation: the less they knew of Holly, the better. I only wished I could say the same.

I hadn’t heard from old Holly since I got sacked and drudged off to Liverpool – though in fairness, I hadn’t made it easy, either. Any prim intentions to try writin’ got buried in the six months I spent wallowing in me cups over how foolish I’d been. Guilt overwhelmed me whenever I got even half a mind to take a nib to paper, overpacked with all the petty things that had inspired my betrayal. How was I to start up any communication after all that? To write as if I hadn’t jammed the knife in – as if I hadn’t twisted it cruelly at the fore?

Marlene turned up somewhere in that grim season of self-pity, intruding upon my vulnerable existence right when it was particularly sore. Every working day, we both took the Mersey Railway into Lime Street – even got on at the same ingress and all. Our casual salutations, the gentlemanly tip of a flatcap, her polite dip of the chin, went on in silence for about a month. I only knew she were a nurse on account of the starch pinafore she wore over her dresses, her hair always neat and pinned beneath the same little bonnet. She wore the uniform proudly – a bleeding heart that had tended to shell-shocked veterans all through the war, and then onwards, after the hun stuff finally kicked her papa underground. That was the second detail she ever shared with me, the first being her blushing shock that I knew where she lived. I told her it was because I was desperate to meet her; in truth, I’d only discovered it by drunken happenstance, stumbling home with Will and Fat Rupert as she blazed through the night like an airy pixie, her hospital whites aflame with moonglow. If I had to surmise it, convenience mainly dictated my evolution with her: she wanted another man to dote on, and I needed the cooing.  

I let it go on for nearly a year, which is roughly how long it takes to stitch up a cracked heart. The afternoon I put a ring on Marlene’s finger followed the morning I’d dropped that damning and wistful missive into the post, Quince Orchard Park emblazoned beneath Holly’s full and proper name. Procuring a positive response to one of those tasks was significantly simpler than the other. Interestingly, destroying that same progress is just as easy – and a method which I am excellently schooled in. Marlene will mend: she’s a fixer, after all.

“So did you tell her all that when you broke it off?” Fat Rupert interrupted my musing with a rude elbow to the ribs. “About the whores and such?” The pinkening of his cheeks had intensified with his desire to hear more saucy chat, his ginger moustache delineated only by the creamy foam dotting the whiskers. Oy, but Fat Rupert gossiped like a girl.

“I’m not a complete schmuck,” I snapped, folding my arms over my chest so that I could feel the thin shape of the letter that had triggered it all inside my coat pocket. “There’s just some stuff you can’t say that plainly. Especially to women,” I explained further, certain the paper envelope would burn through the lining in my jacket, tattooing its neatly typed communiqué into my flesh. Cold, regimented and not written by Holly at all, the note came from the new butler at the Orchard and very cordially informed that Holly had moved on. It might have been binned straightaway if the message ended there, but no.

Dear Mr. Finch:

Please be informed that Hollingsworth has accompanied His Lordship’s second daughter, the Lady Catherine, to London for the purposes of establishing her own household, and is now in her direct employ. Any further business or inquiries can be directed to the enclosed address. Congratulations on your nuptials.

When arranged in the formation of Lady Catherine’s new residence, the common alphabet read like hieroglyphs, strange and vaguely mystic. The idea of His Lordship’s mousey shrew of a daughter doing anything on her own was laughable, furthered only by how uncharacteristic it seemed for Holly to have followed her there. The big manor house at Quince Orchard had been as much Holly’s castle as His Lordship’s, and seemed a rather large sacrifice to make for the boring sister, who never went out and was about as interesting as a histrionic sigh. The address didn’t even mark a particularly fancy neighborhood, neither, so there was either something to hide, or the war had gouged the aristocracy more than the papers would let you believe. I chose to believe there was a little concoction of both.

TBC