"It was terrible," my colleague said thinking of her childhood, "We had to sit in complete silence during the Archers. If we even breathed mum would wave us away with a shush. And the worst was if she missed it in the week and we'd be going somewhere in the car on Sunday morning then...well!"
I shrunk in my seat and thought about all the times I'd traumatised my children in this way.
I grew up with the Sunday omnibus and really quite liked it. I enjoyed the warmth of the kitchen, the Sunday paper, the smell of the roast my mum was making and the quiet chuntering from the radio. You might say that I was an odd child. My children didn't enjoy those Sunday mornings in the same way and have shown no signs of becoming listeners when they become middle class and middle aged (although I still have a little hope for my son). I've often wondered how this soap has such high listening figures when it seems so rare to find another person who will publicly admit to a fondness for it.
"The Archers? Oh no, how old do you think I am?"
At the weekend I found myself in the company of a table full of Archers' fans. It was my Dad's birthday and we were invited to their Greek themed dinner party (I bought a selection of food made with courgettes). I'll confess that I felt completely out of place and puzzled over how my parents had become so posh. I sat, feeling like a schoolgirl in a group of grown ups, my legs swinging from my chair, listening to people call each other dahhhrling and telling each other that they 'simply must.' They spoke about their abusive childhoods with a freedom that was worn like a badge of honour and those that had kind loving mothers seemed slightly ashamed. One woman was describing her upbringing on a farm with a violent dictatorial father, how because of primogeniture her twin brother inherited everything and how her tiny niece had pranged the tractor causing thousands of pounds worth of damage she suddenly said, "My life is just like the Archers." Everyone around the table (except the LSH and my son) listened religiously. I hoped that her six year old niece hadn't been drunk.
"I'll never forgive them for what they've done to the Grundies. They've just made them look stupid."
"It's the trial next week. I expect the air in my kitchen will be blue," they joked.
"Oooh...that man!"
My traumatised colleague pretended not to know when I asked her what her mum thought about Helen.
"Helen? What's going on there then?"
I told her about the domestic abuse/coercive control storyline and how pregnant Helen stabbed Rob and is now awaiting trial for attempted murder, having given birth to a boy in prison.
"Oh yes, I do know about that. Honestly, how do I know? I don't even listen
to it."
To miss this storyline you would have probably been living under a rock for the last year. It has made the national press and has captured the imagination in a way no other domestic violence story does. Many have donated to Refuge and although I don't understand it, Twitter is showing it's support with a hashtag.
#solidari-tea
Helen's trial starts this week and the fans are hoping that Rob will somehow end up in prison. I'm sure the writers will be much more thorough and know that the best they can do is get Helen acquitted, which would humiliate Rob and in reality put her at further risk.
Real women suffer so much more than Helen has. The Archers' listeners with their blameless middle class lives (despite the wallopings they had as children) couldn't take any more: just the suggestion of forced sex was enough to have them switching off their radios in droves.
The local paper posted a tweet link of a domestic abuse story this morning.
The headline:
Grays man accused of stabbing dog to death and assaulting Essex Police officers due in court
You had to look hard to see that it was a domestic abuse story. Police had been called in the early hours of Sunday morning to reports of a "disturbance". We know, don't we, that this is code for the fact that the man was beating up his wife? Maybe you are thinking that it was just a drunken argument. Maybe there was no wife. The article then says, "It was alleged that a man had assaulted a woman and kicked and stabbed a dog."
We know what's going on, don't we? The abuse of the dog was part of her punishment or the dog just got in the way as he tried to protect her. We know that the knife had been used on the woman (and probably not for the first time) in a way that assured she didn't fight back but didn't harm her enough to get him into serious trouble. All Archers' listeners now know that this woman will have been subjected to years of terrifying control and violence. We know that she will have felt powerless, trapped and invisible. Luckily, this man has now assaulted the attending police officer (probably not the first attending policeman) and killed a dog and so the woman may get some protection.
She's still invisible, though. The press aren't interested in reporting her story. In these days of digital led reporting it's virtual hits not real ones that count and the public will skim over a story about a battered wife but can't hear enough about the poor dog.
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