An innocent woman is sent to prison and a public outcry follows. British Labour MP Fraser Kemp demands that she be freed and says he will be pursuing the matter with Tony Blair. Callers, some in tears, inundate a TV station. The Sun newspaper begins a campaign, bringing in celebrities to lend their weight - "I've lost all faith in British justice" (Jim Bowen, host of Bullseye); "They can't leave her in for long" (Miss Ireland, Andrea Roche). A top British lawyer says the sentence is "outrageous rough justice" and "Free the Weatherfield One" Tshirts are printed.
All this would be heartening for Deirdre Rachid as she sits in her lonely prison cell.
Except for the fact that she doesn't exist.
Last Sunday night Deirdre Rachid, previously Barlow, previously again Langton, nee Hunt, of Coronation Street, was found guilty of credit card fraud and obtaining a mortgage under false pretenses and sentenced to 18 months, while the real baddie got a suspended sentence. We had to wait months for Deardree to see through her lover Jon Lindsay, who had cad and scoundrel written all over his fake pilot's uniform. In soapland, where characters not being able to comprehend a clearly signalled plot development seems to be a prerequisite, Deirdre gets the Oscar - or should that be the electric chair? - for being blind to the obvious.
So now she's been banged up, basically for being gullible ("What did the lawyer say? `Poor, deluded, infatuated . . .' And he's on my side!") Her mates in Weatherfield are backing her - Emily has printed "Free Deirdre Rachid" posters, while Mike is gallantly diddling his business partner to pay her legal bills. The real-life bookies lost money on the outcome and the British tabloids have gone mad altogether in a "Who Shot JR?" scenario for the '90s: The Sun bellowed "We'll Get You Out, Chuck!" in 120 point type and reported that the actor Anne Kirkbride had "drawn massive comfort and strength from our campaign" while their agony aunt Deidre (spell it right, can't you?) had a column of advice on how she can get through the ordeal - "something as simple as crossing off the days on a calendar can help". Only the odd renegade Sun reader reckoned she should get life for "carrying lethal sideburns and producing the alien Tracy". (Come to think of it . . . )
Meanwhile the Mirror responded to the Sun campaign with "Don't Panic . . . Deirdre Gets Out In 3 Months" detailing how Kemp, the Labour MP, said "I will point out to the Home Secretary that there has been an appalling miscarriage of justice . . . the Home Secretary should intervene and ensure that Deirdre is released from prison". The next day they predicted Deardree's "jail torment" as her "tough cellmate turns nasty" (which she did), under the headline "Strangulation Street" and reported how Tony Blair and William Hague had joined the campaign. (But they also reported on another campaign - to lock her up for 18 years for bad acting.)
In London the Standard plastered it on the front page and columnists in lots of the papers have thundered, while the Star predicted the arrival of a mystery woman who will be the key to Deirdre's freedom. Gerry Ryan tracked the "Jon" actor down where he's lying low in Spain and interviewed him on his show in character; while even Vincent Browne, on his radio programme, quizzed the Labour MP about his intentions. All we need now is the Gay Byrne interview and her freedom should be guaranteed.
Granted, in some of these cases tongues are firmly lodged in cheeks but a lot of this coverage is an irony-free zone.
This is not the first time Deirdre, who has led quite a chequered life for such a tedious person, has created a confusion of reality and fantasy in the public mind; when she and boring Ken had a bust-up over her affair with cartoon-book bad guy Mike Baldwin, the scoreboard at Manchester United lit up with "Deirdre stays with Ken" at half-time. In fact, this basically unappealing on-off couple have had a mysterious appeal for the public since their wedding viewing figures beat Chas and Di's in the ratings. These days Ken can often be seen out on the town with the lads, Norman Wisdom and Yuri Geller - see them pictured below. He's probably drowning his sorrows: first his date drops dead in the ladies (well, not date so much as latest companion in his career as gigolo/escort - the episode gave new meaning to the word "ladykiller"), then his court evidence about his ex, Deardree, did her no good at all and she wound up behind bars. (On the other hand, maybe the snap is a social diary shot from Inside Soap magazine, a publication from the twilight zone where reality rarely bites.)
Coronation Street this week has been like scenes from a secondrate prison drama - Deirdre Rashid ("Samir Rashid - he was your third husband and he died in mysterious circumstances?" said the prosecution) now has the top bunk, wears unwanted secondhand clothes and has checked in her jewellery in case she's mugged in prison. But the best bit is that she's sharing the cell with Margi Clarke!
Deirdre may have notions above her station because of her innocence (in fact she looks like she's headed for a nervous breakdown) but she and Margi are in the bunk beds and learning tailoring together. One hopes the whole prison experience might toughen old Dee up, stop her moaning (easy enough lines to learn this week: "But I shouldn't be here. I did nothing wrong." x 25 times) and help her pick up a bit of Margi's streetwise nous - before we know it she'll be off on the town with Russian sailors and hosting sex chat-shows on Channel 4.
As prim-matron-turned-ecowarrior Emily Bishop said so sensibly in court: "If Deirdre's guilty of these preposterous allegations then I'm a banana." Well . . . Quite.
