I was going to start this with a rant, but I decided to sprinkle my feelings throughout the recap instead of compressing them into one intensely emotional moment that is way out of line with audience expectations, not to mention structurally nonsensical and just generally self-indulgent. (See what I did there?)

For now, I’ll just say that I sometimes wish TV and movies would come with mood warnings instead of adult content warnings. I sat down all happy and excited, looking forward to another vastly entertaining hour of a show I’ve come to love. I had jalapeño poppers and Boddingtons and everything, and I couldn’t even enjoy them! I want my Friday night back.

dotted-divider2

Lexy is moving in with Tess and Frankie. Aw, look at Tess carrying those unwieldy boxes. Hi Tess! You’re my only hope.

Moving in
WE GOT TO MOVE THESE REFRIGERATORS

Lexy doesn’t have much stuff, because she doesn’t like clutter.

Lexy: It’s just when you see so many people snuff it, you realize only junk gets left behind.

Well, that’s not foreshadowy in the least.

Tess likes the idea of a “clear-out” and a “more minimalist lifestyle.” Don’t be silly, Tess. You’re the sort who always has things flying off her person as she exits a room or a taxi, and we like you that way.

dotted-divider2

You know what else I like? Cat. And Sam. Cat and Sam together at home, in a robe and a tank top, respectively, getting ready to sit down to Cat’s birthday breakfast.

EVERYTHING LOOKS SO DELICIOUS

Cat notices the lilies on the table and inhales their sweet and foreboding fragrance. (Lilies symbolize death. For me, they also symbolize the weirdness of the ’80s.)

But according to Sam (who seems to have a little bit of a cold, which is very cute), lilies are just part of the “full birthday breakfast experience.”

Sam: We’ve even got jam and marmalade in little pots, like you get at a hotel. To be fair, they’re eggcups, but you get the idea.

I DON'T DESERVE THIS. NO, REALLY.

I do get the idea. I get the idea that you love her a lot. Cat gets that idea too, especially when she opens her gift. It’s some sort of designer handbag; Sam overheard her talking with Tess about it and followed through, like the most perfect girlfriend that she is.

She’s so excited and eager. Maybe Sam is a shapeshifter, like Sam on True Blood: the hot cop has just transformed into an adorable little puppy!

puppy Sam

Sam: Do you like it?
Cat: I love it. Thank you. (tearing up)
Sam: It’s meant to make you happy, not sad.

That is what I want to say to you about this show, Harriet Braun: It was meant to make me happy, not sad.

dotted-divider2

Across town (really, I have no idea where Frankie’s flat is relative to Cat’s flat), Tess is observing as Lexy gets settled. Lexy doesn’t like “DIY,” as you can see from the rickety nature of the bookshelf she’s currently futzing with. Lexy tells Tess that she’s smart to date a spark.

Lexy: I bet she does everything like this.
Tess: Oh, yeah. She would. Only we’re not together any more.
Lexy: Oh, shit. Um, sorry.
Tess: It’s OK. We weren’t together long. It was a she-says-tomahto, I-say-tomayto situation, so… I called the whole thing off.

What? They broke up? Look, Tess: just because you’re currently in a Chekhov play doesn’t mean you have to do the important stuff offstage. But I love you for quoting a Gershwin tune.

Tess unsubtly inquires as to Lexy’s relationship status. Which I think she already did, in the last episode. But I’m not going to start cataloging inconsistencies and repetitions, because that would make me mad in an insane sense, instead of just in an angry sense.

While finding the right spot for an impressively heavy-looking medical textbook (because she’s a doctor, get it?), Lexy reveals that she spent her twenties “sleeping with the wrong women — Frankie being a prime example.” That’s why she’s single now. Tess is sort of interested but is also attempting to look up Lexy’s skirt, which is sort of pointless because Lexy is wearing tights.

I FORGOT MY X-RAY SPECS

I’m not sure whether I want these two to be a couple. I think I want them to hook up but not get together, but I don’t think Tess is capable of something that casual. And Lexy is a heartbreaker type, so I don’t want Tess to actually fall in love with her. But whatever happens, at least I won’t have to worry about things getting really dire or dramatic or tragic, because this show isn’t like that!

dotted-divider2

Still at home with Sam, Cat gets a text that makes her smile. She hides the smile as Sam breezes in to announce she’s off for a run. I want to yank Cat’s iPhone out of her hand and slap her silly with it.

Meanwhile, in the same idyllic spot as the last episode — is Sadie squatting there now? — Frankie is trying to make amends.

WAITING FOR THE DOLPHIN SHOW

Frankie: I wanted to say I’m sorry. You’re right, I was a cock.
Sadie: You’re not getting back in my pants, if that’s what you think.
Frankie: That’s not what I want.
Sadie: Charmed, I’m sure.
Frankie: Nah, I would, I would want to … I think you know I’m into someone else.

And yes, Sadie is smart like that. She inquires as to Cat’s health and then agrees to be Frankie’s mate, with a “sod it” that makes me like her a whole lot. (I had a flatmate who said there were only four answers to all of life’s questions: “All right,” “Fuck off,” “I don’t know,” and “Sod it.” I think Sadie would agree.)

Having established their fondness for each other, they try to make small talk. It seems Sadie is “broke and jobless,” and Frankie says she might be able to help out with that. What? Isn’t Frankie broke and jobless too? I guess things are looking up for her. Don’t get used to it, Frankie!

dotted-divider2

Sam is running. She hears someone coughing nearby and stops to help, because that’s just who she is. She puts the “Sam” in “Good Samaritan.”

The cougher is Lexy. She’s trying to run too, but she’s an out-of-shape former smoker (who, an entire episode ago, was doing coke and not caring one whit about her health). She’s very embarrassed that Sam is seeing her like this.

JUST TRAINING FOR A 0.0000005K

Lexy: Sometimes I can’t wait till we’re 80 and I can just throw self-improvement to the wind. Buy a stair lift and eat doughnuts all day.

They banter about the hilarity of mortality, and then Sam offers to run with Lexy.

Lexy: Oh, no. You’re really fit. Um, I mean you’re really healthy.

It’s funny how “fit” means “attractive” in the UK, whereas in the US it just means “in shape.” Do British travelers come to the US and think a “fitness club” is a singles bar?

(I am providing my own levity because I know death is standing in the doorway, clipping his nails.)

dotted-divider2

Tess is acting. Or at least she’s trying to: her costar Nora keeps interrupting and requesting pauses or stage directions or whatever will put the spotlight back on her. Tess is trying to cooperate, but it’s not easy.

I GUESS MONOLOGUE DOESN'T MEAN WHAT I THOUGHT IT MEANT

This storyline really does remind me of Smash, except this show won’t (one hopes) veer into faux Bollywood territory.

Tess’s jovial new actor friend is still cheering her on and making faces behind Nora’s back. I like him. I hope he’ll be there for Tess when everything falls apart in about 5 minutes.

Somewhere else, Cat and Sam are walking to work. Cat wants to know which restaurant they’re going to for her birthday, because that way she’ll know what to wear.

Sam: Look, just don’t wear jeans or trainers.

This is what I want to tell every tourist who decides to take in a Broadway show. (And don’t wear baseball caps or shorts either, but that’s probably implicit in the other thing.)

Cat abruptly points to a building they’re approaching. She says “That’s where I’m going in there” in an unpunctuated, frantic way that prompts Sam to ask whether she’s OK. Cat nods and Sam seems to accept that Cat is on an important architectural mission of some kind. As Autostraddler Holly said in the comments last week, Sam, you’re a cop. Can’t you read Cat’s little tics and tells? She’s not a good liar; she’s always squinting too much or putting her hands to her face.

DID SHE BUY IT? WAS I CONVINCING?

There’s an all-too-quick kiss goodbye.

KEEP A SONG OF JOY INSIDE YOUR HEART …

Inside the random building, Cat watches from the window until Sam is out of sight. Little do they know (and much do I wish I didn’t know) that they’ve just spent their last moments together.

… 'CAUSE WE NEVER REALLY SAY GOODBYE

Cat pauses for a moment, possibly wondering when she became such a calculating louse, then leaves the building and goes on her merry perfidious way.

dotted-divider2

At the hospital, Lexy is talking to a doctor friend of hers. She’s still embarrassed about her breathless-in-the-wrong-way encounter with Sam.

Lexy: Well, anyway, she’s got a bloody girlfriend, which is just my luck.

Hmm. Inopportune use of the word “bloody,” Lexy, but you couldn’t possibly know that.

Lexy: One day I’m going to fancy someone who isn’t unstable or taken.

You are? On this show? But that wouldn’t be very dramatic.

WE ORDERED OUR SCRUBS ON THE INTERNET

Why are scrubs sexy? They’re not so much different from sweatpants, and those aren’t sexy. I guess it’s more what scrubs represent. On Lexy, they represent hotness.

Lexy’s phone rings, but there’s nobody on the other end. “Third bloody call today,” she mutters. Ooh, intrigue! Who could it be? Do you have a long-lost love, Lexy, or are you just delinquent on your med school loans?

Lexy’s (male) doctor friend is moping because the cute new radiologist (also male) walked right by him without a glance. I wondered if there would be a gay man on the show anytime soon. I guess it’s a good addition? Not that gay men will start watching this show just because of that one character — unlike lesbians, who will slog through 50 brain-putrefying minutes of Grey’s Anatomy every week just to catch a glimpse of Callie and Arizona.

Lexy: Maybe he’s straight.
Friend, whose name is apparently Declan but I had to look that up: No, he’s definitely gay. He is. I have a sixth sense. I see gay people.

Hey, look over here: do you see bored people?

Lexy asks Declan to choose a patient file: “ear infection with discharge” or “unremitting vomiting”? I should remember these things when I have to select a piece of tedium to work on at my job: at least there are no bodily fluids involved.

dotted-divider2

After rehearsal, Tess is griping about Nora the diva. Tess’s actor friend (why don’t these people have names?) says Nora is “just an actress,” meaning she’s “selfish, faithless, self-absorbed.”

Tess: I’m an actress.
Actor Friend: Present company excepted.

Actor Friend goes on to talk about his wife, who is also an actress and is throwing away 20 years of marriage to have a fling with a hot-shot actor named Thomas Delaware. Tess pretends not to like Thomas Delaware and says he gave a “terrible performance” in a recent movie, but she’s not giving a very convincing performance herself. Actor Friend rants a little more. Tess offers the only thing she has:

Tess: Crisp? It’s a new flavor.

I ALSO HAVE SMARTIES AND MINSTRELS

Oh, oh, what’s the new flavor? British crisp flavors are insane — “prawn cocktail” being the worst I’ve tried. But as the inventors of salt and vinegar, they’re really the gods of crisp flavors.

dotted-divider2

Cat knocks on Frankie’s door. The knock sort of sounds like “doom doom doom” if you listen hard enough.

They fall into each other’s arms. It’s sort of hot, I’ll admit, but it’s also just so upsetting. I can’t help but wince and cringe and squirm (and not in a good way).

Doorway/foyer kisses always remind me of When Night Is Falling. Maybe I’ll watch that after this, to restore a teeny bit of my innocence.

It gets quite intense. Cat is wearing a corset.

Cat: I want you to watch me.

Well then! Lucky for you, Cat, Frankie and I both very much want to watch.

LET'S PLAY TIPPING THE VELVET
I GET TO BE DIANA LETHABY, RIGHT?

dotted-divider2

Sam and her work partner are on surveillance. They talk about Sam’s plans for Cat’s birthday dinner, at a swanky restaurant called La Maison.

Ryder: They don’t even have prices on the menu, do they?
Sam: I know a pint and a burger are your idea of a hot date, but I’m way classier than you, so…
Ryder: (after a pause) Reckon you and Cat will do the civil partnership thing?
Sam: I don’t know. We’ve not talked about it. I’d marry her tomorrow, though.

YOU'RE ONLY A DAY AWAY

Aaaaarrrrrgggghhhh. Don’t say “marry”! Or “tomorrow”! I can’t take it.

Frankie and Cat are enjoying the afterglow.

Cat: You’re such a voyeur.
Frankie: Like you’re not a total exhibitionist.

Oh, thanks for the sex vocab lesson. I think I’m in the wrong class; do you know which room “Coherent Storytelling 101” is in? No? That’s a shame.

Frankie gives Cat her birthday present: a bracelet with “F/C” engraved on the inside. Cat loves it, but of course is also concerned about it.

Cat: It might be a little difficult to wear it in public.
Frankie: That’s why the inscription’s on the inside. Anyway I was… hoping that wouldn’t be a problem for too much longer.

Cat really really really doesn’t want to talk about that today.

Cat: It’s my birthday. I just want to enjoy being with you.

All Cat wants for her birthday is to pretend she’s not a terrible person.

Frankie checks the time; Sadie’s picking her up in an hour, to drive her to “a job in the Highlands.” I suppose that means a photo shoot, but at this point it could just as well mean a murder, a little sex work, or a few hours taking orders at McDonald’s. Or is it called MacDonald’s in the Highlands? (I want to go to the one at “Halfpenny Burn, Forfar, Angus,” or the one on “Inverurie Road, Bucksburn Roundabout, Aberdeen.” That’s a pretty poetic packet of McNuggets!)

Cat wants to grumble about Sadie, but she knows she shouldn’t.

Cat: It’s fine. I’m not in any position to tell you what to do…
Frankie: Well, I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to sleep with anyone else. I love you. I’m going to wait for you.

Whoa. Really? Frankie’s done being Frankie?

Cat doesn’t say “I love you” back, though I guess she says it with her kisses.

Eventually they get dressed and get on with their days. Oh, guess who’s home early from rehearsal?

UHHHHHHH
OHHHHHHH
AHHHHHHH

Cat tries to talk to Tess, but Tess just disappears into the shower. Frankie says she’ll deal with it and sends Cat on her way.

Frankie waits for Tess to get out of the shower. Tess really really really doesn’t want to talk about it, but Frankie insists it’s different this time.

Frankie: I love her. I want to be with her.
Tess: That’s what you said last time.
Frankie: Yeah. Well, I’m not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice. I’m not going to hurt her again.
Tess: Well, someone’s going to get hurt. What about Sam?

What about ALL OF US WATCHING AND HOPING AND WINCING AND FREAKING OUT?

Tess promises not to say anything. Then Sadie arrives to make us feel better for 10 seconds.

Sadie: I was gonna wear sensible shoes, but then I thought, “fuck that.”

SEE WHAT YOU GAVE UP?

dotted-divider2

Cat is on her way to work. She is distracted. She’s obviously thinking about the intractable, totally fucked-up shituation she’s in. She is desperate and lost and can’t seem to catch her breath.

JUST BREATHE

She “cadges a cig” off a passerby. She gets a text message from Frankie (“Sorted. [Tess] won’t say anything. Love you xxx.”) She breathes a sigh of relief.

IT'LL ALL BE FINE

And then.

Still smiling at the text from Frankie, Cat steps into the street and directly into the path of a speeding car that slams into her with a sickening sound and pushes her body several feet until she thuds lifelessly onto the unforgiving concrete.

It’s violent. Sudden. Horrifying. Heart-in-your-throat-oh-god-that-didn’t-just-happen-why-no-please-no-WHY-no-no-no shocking.

Appalling. Inconceivable.

And while Cat lies there, kicked to the curb/kerb by the realities of show biz, life goes on. Sadie and Frankie get into Sadie’s knicker-strewn car (“some conquest or another,” says Sadie). As they chat, a siren wails in the background. That’s the sound of your life changing irrevocably, Frankie.

At the hospital, Cat is wheeled in. Declan and Lexy are still on duty. Declan surveys Cat’s injuries: a “major blow to the chest” after an “initial blow to the lower limbs,” resulting in a “bilateral fracture.”

Declan: What’s the situation with that chest, Lexy?
Lexy: (frozen in her tracks)
Declan: Lexy?
Lexy: I know her. She’s friends with my flatmates.

And that’s just it: Cat is friends with everyone. Cat is the center of this show. Everyone else is a spoke radiating from the hub of Cat. Cat is the core. The show is being gutted.

At the police station, somebody calls after Sam. She says “forget it” to more work, but the guy stops her and explains that he’s just had a call from Traffic.

At the hospital, Cat begins to crash.

DID I ACCIDENTALLY CHANGE THE CHANNEL TO AN ER REPEAT?

Declan: Can you get me one milligram of adrenaline ready?

I can get you 10 milligrams of adrenaline, because I am about to jump out of my skin. My heart is pounding and I keep screaming at the TV. I can’t remember the last time I felt this kind of breathtaking shock from a TV show. Oh, wait, yes I can: it was when Tara died on Buffy. I’m still mad about that one.

The doctors try to shock Cat back to life. Sam gets to the hospital just as the heartless unrelenting beep of a flatline fills the hallway.

Sam watches helplessly from the other side of the door as Declan and Lexy try to save Cat. And then Declan calls it.

Declan: Time of death, 18:11.

I think you mean 22:15, which is how many minutes we’re into this episode. To me, that’s the death of Lip Service. I really hope I turn out to be wrong.

Sam is barely able to breathe. Same goes for the rest of us.

dotted-divider2

At Tess and Frankie’s flat, Ed and Tess are about to have dinner. And then Ed’s cell phone rings. He rushes out in a panic, urging Tess to come with him. They run to the hospital, only to see Sam siting next to Cat’s body.

Ed: Is she OK?

No, Ed, she’s not. None of the women around you are OK. Tess can see that Cat is dead, but she has to spell it out for Ed.

This is a good time to quote someone on Twitter:


Out in the muddy middle of nowhere, Frankie and Sadie have a flat tire. Frankie is no good in a crisis.

Sadie: Can’t drive. Can’t change a tyre. Turns out you’re not so cool after all.

Sadie, as the voice of truth and sanity on this show (despite your own occasional dissembling and absurdity), can you please tell me why this is happening?

They rummage around in the trunk (sorry, the boot) and Frankie realizes that Sadie’s been living in her car. Sadie deflects that particular conversation and they both end up falling backward into the mud, giggling. Frankie’s phone gets swathed in muck too and is rendered useless. Of course.

Don’t want to see ads? Join AF+
NO, WE'RE NOT GOING TO WRESTLE

dotted-divider2

Back in the hospital, Ed and Sam and Tess are still trying to come to terms with the fact of Cat’s death. Lexy comes in and asks whether she can get them anything and whether they have any questions.

Ed: Did she say anything?
Lexy: Oh, no, no. She would’ve been unconscious as soon as it happened.
Sam: What was his blood alcohol level, the bloke that killed her?
Lexy: He hadn’t been drinking.
Sam: Is he here?

I don’t really want her to do this because I know it would only make things worse for her, but I wouldn’t blame Sam if she were to walk into the guy’s hospital room and separate his heart from his body with her bare hands. Kinda like he’s metaphorically done to her.

Tess is thinking the same thing.

I'D CALL THAT JUSTICE

Tess tries to call Frankie, but Frankie’s phone is incapacitated. Cut to Sadie’s Saab as it pulls up to a hotel I’d like to get the name of.

DOWNTON LITE

They settle in to their very nice room (shared, of course). Sadie finds the business card for the editor of whatever magazine this photo shoot is for. I failed to explain earlier that the journalist who was supposed to accompany them is a no-show, and that piece of news made Sadie wonder who’ll write the article. I think she was thinking she might write it. But I was a little too distracted by Cat’s horrific death to think much about Sadie’s potential next career.

Frankie emerges from the shower, asking whether there are any texts for her.

Sadie: She’ll be out with Sam. Anyway, Cat won’t want to text my phone. I’m not her favorite person, am I?

Sadie tries to put the moves on Frankie then, because she doesn’t want to “waste this shit-hot hotel room.” Yeah, waste is the overriding theme of this episode.

Frankie: I’ve told Cat I’m not gonna sleep with anyone else.

I guess Frankie really is a changed woman. She seems to suddenly understand things like responsibility and faithfulness and, well, love.

dotted-divider2

At the hospital, Sam stares at the Cat’s expressionless face and tries to touch her cold, pale body. It’s too much for anyone. She gets up, goes home, drinks some water, sees those birthday lilies and finally loses it, crumpling to the floor in a strangled sob.

Heather Peace has done an excellent job conveying the strange combination of heightened awareness and complete numbness that you feel in the days following the death of a loved one. I applaud her talent, but I didn’t need to relive that experience in this context. I do enjoy it when TV becomes powerful and profound, but this is Lip Service. It’s not Six Feet Under or Mad Men or The Sopranos or whatever. And I don’t want it to be.

But luckily, this episode is not quite on the opposite end of the spectrum, which would be The L Word. I don’t think Harriet Braun was trying to make a public service announcement about the dangers of texting while walking, the way Mama Chaiken was trying to educate us about breast cancer. But this shocking development is not so very far off from that either, in terms of being antithetical to the former tone, scope, and spirit of the show. In terms of being wrong and offensive and really fucked up.

dotted-divider2

The next morning, Ed and Tess experience that awful moment when you wake up and have a split-second of not remembering that someone has died. And then you do remember it, and you forget everything else.

Sam is trying to soothe her pain by taking action. She makes a call and asks for the name of the man “involved in the Franken Street RTA (road traffic accident) yesterday.” (Franken Street? Really?)

She strolls into the hospital and grabs the admissions notebook from behind the unattended desk. She finds her man and goes to his room, her face a squall of anguish and desperation.

Don’t do it, Sam. I mean, the guy has it comin’, and it would be a murder but not a crime — but still, don’t do it. (Actually, maybe this would be an interesting storyline: Sam in jail, perhaps tussling with a Helen Stewart-esque warden. Yes, I am going to make a Bad Girls reference in every recap.)

Luckily, Lexy intervenes. She tells Sam that the driver had a bad night because, well, he just accidentally killed someone.

Lexy: It wasn’t his fault.
Sam: He could’ve been talking on his mobile or reading a map.

Actually, Cat was the one texting on her mobile and reading a map of Cheaterstown.

Lexy: If you go in there, you are not going to feel any better. And you’ll make an already devastated man a lot worse.

Oh; this makes it sound like Sam was only going to confront the guy. I thought she was going to do something more Game of Thrones-y, like squish his head onto a spike or ratbucket him.

Sam concedes the point and cries her way home.

dotted-divider2

Ed and Tess are watching TV, because TV can be a good sedative and, if you’re watching a light, soapy show, is at least not going to feature any gut-wrenching RTAs. Surely we can count on that much.

Ed wonders how Cat, a very careful person who ironed her socks (really? I don’t believe you), could walk into the road without looking. Tess knows exactly how but doesn’t say anything.

Hey, wait a minute: does Sam wonder what Cat was doing on that particular road? I mean, I don’t know where any of these places are, really, but wouldn’t Cat probably have been on a different street if she had gone straight to work from the mysterious building? I mean, not one near Frankie’s flat? Not Franken Street? I guess that’s the least of Sam’s worries right now.

Frankie’s finally home. She stops short when she sees how destroyed Tess and Ed look. Ed tells Frankie there was an accident and Cat was hurt.

Frankie: Is she OK? Where is she?

Tess just shakes her head. Ed can’t say it.

Frankie: Just tell me where she is.

Tess: (breathless, her voice breaking) She… she died, Frankie.

Frankie falls apart. Ruta Gedmintas cries in an unmoored way that makes you want to cover your ears — again, the actors are more than rising to the challenge, but I wish they didn’t have to. It’s just too fucking sad.

The next morning, Sam stretches her hand across an empty bed. Please make it stop.

Frankie is back to her emotionless self. She plays with Cat’s necklace and reminds Tess not to tell anyone about their affair.

Tess: You don’t think she’d do anything stupid, do you?
Lexy: Oh, no. It’s only been a few days. She’d still be in shock.

I kind of like your doctorly wisdom, Lexy. You seem like a good person to have around. Tess thinks so too, even as she grieves for Cat, who was “meant to be the one we could rely on.” Yes. Because Cat was the anchor, the locus, the nucleus of this little family.

LEAN ON ME. AND INTO ME.

Sam arrives. Lexy tries to comfort her again, and Sam thanks her “for the other day.” They exchange some uncertain but significant looks. Hmm.

Tess gives Sam a CD that Cat loved, and some pictures of Cat and Tess at uni. Plus a card for Judy and Jerry, Cat’s parents — Sam is on her way to see them. Frankie blusters through, sparing a moment to look daggers at Sam, who returns the evil eye and visibly tenses up.

dotted-divider2

At the home of the MacKenzies, Judy (Cat’s mum) is trying to play host and freaking out about digestives. Do you recognize Judy? It’s Mrs. Hughes from Downton Abbey! Why can’t all of TV (and all of life, for that matter) be more like Downton Abbey?

WHERE'S CARSON WHEN YOU NEED HIM?

While Sam deals with the parents, Frankie is at the mortuary, giving Cat one last kiss.

Frankie: I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.

I’m so wrecked.

Back at the MacKenzies, a funeral planner is talking about flowers. Judy thinks maybe hyacinths, but Sam suggests Cat’s favorite flower: lilies. This is news to Judy, who takes it very personally. The discussion of music doesn’t go much better; Ed and Sam knew Cat so much better than her parents did.

Judy: I’m sorry. I’m just trying to do my best for my daughter. But if you don’t want my help, then fine.

Oh gah. Don’t feel bad, mum. If I were to get hit by a car tomorrow, my mother would probably play Amy Grant at the funeral, when I’d rather have some Queen or Heart. Or how about “Death Is Just Around the Corner” from the Addams Family musical? Nah, I’ve got it: “Solsbury Hill” by Peter Gabriel. Perfect.

Sorry. I think I’m just trying to distract myself from the misery.

As Judy cries and Ed tries to comfort her, Cat’s dad doesn’t say a word. Let’s you and me go to a pub and just sit in sad silence, Jerry. I think Cat would be fine with that.

And then it’s morning, another day. The day of Cat’s funeral. Tess is ready to go, but Sadie has just arrived to distract and/or comfort Frankie. She asks Frankie how she’s doing.

I'M REALLY GOOD AT THIS FRIEND THING

Frankie: Great. I guess I had it coming.
Sadie: What’s that supposed to mean?
Frankie: Nothing.

Frankie doesn’t want to go to the funeral at all. How can she sit there and pretend she and Cat were just good friends? I don’t know, actually. But Sadie does.

Frankie: Would you go?
Sadie: Yeah, I would. ‘Cause I’m not a total idiot. You know what you meant to each other; sod everyone else. Frankie, if you don’t go, you’ll regret it.

Sadie helps Frankie get dressed, knowing the key is to just keep putting one foot in front of the other.

At the hospital, Lexy’s friend Declan makes some bad jokes about the receipts for Cat’s birthday presents and the fact that Sam is now back on the market for Lexy to pursue.

SOMETIMES GALLOWS HUMOR DESERVES AN ACTUAL HANGING

Lexy: You’re unbelievable.

I would have gone with “prick” or “complete asshole,” but yeah.

The funeral is about to start, but Frankie’s still not there. Tess calls her and leaves another voicemail. Hey, there’s Jay. Whatcha been up to, Jay?

Jay asks Sam whether her parents are there. But she hasn’t told them yet; they’re on holiday. I used to feel like I was on holiday when I watched this show.

Ed thinks about going on holiday himself, maybe in Australia. Jay says he can always visit him instead.

Jay: Yeah, I’ve been offered the job in London. I might take it.
Tess: What?
Jay: Yeah, it’s um… you don’t have to work somewhere every day where she used to be. It’s doing my head in.

You’re right, Jay. Sam just has to sleep in the bed every night where Cat used to be, and Ed has to be part of a family every day where Cat used to be. Shut up.

But this London thing: I guess we’re saying goodbye to two characters, then? And I guess we’ll never see Alistair or the architecture firm again? OK. Well, at least we know why Cat seemed so out of character last week: because all bets are off, anything can happen, and Harriet Braun has lost the plot. Literally.

The funeral is weird; the minister or whatever seems to know nothing about Cat. Tess complains about this but is too busy worrying about Frankie to care much. Jay assures her that Frankie’s been through shit before and will “come out the other side” OK. Well, fine, but will I? Somewhere in all that, Tess realizes that Jay knows about Frankie and Cat. Not that it matters, since we’re never going to see him again.

Ed says a few words.

Ed: Now my big sister’s died, and the person I really need to call is Cat. ‘Cause she’d tell me how to get through this.

This makes everybody cry, including me.

Frankie has slipped into a pew during Ed’s eulogy. But now it’s Sam’s turn to speak, so Frankie slips right back out again.

Sam: Cat was the best thing that ever happened to me. I thought I’d have kids with her and grow old with her. I never thought I’d be here today, saying this.

SOB. None of us did, Sam.

At a nearby pub, Frankie orders a double whiskey. Set ’em up for all of us, will you?

Cat’s friends and family bury her. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

dotted-divider2

A very wasted Frankie goes to see her mum. She’s not exactly welcome.

Alma: You can’t be here.
Alma’s husband, in the background: Alma, who is it?
Alma: No one.
Frankie: I’m your … I’m your daughter.

AND I ACTUALLY REALLY NEED MY MUM RIGHT NOW

Alma ends up slamming the door in Frankie’s face as Frankie screams, “Fuck you!”

Maybe Frankie’s been through some shit, but this is a hard something to come out the other side of. She goes exactly where she has to go, being a Heathcliff sort of romantic: to the fresh earth of Cat’s grave.

Meanwhile, Sam is at Cat’s dressing table, touching her things, remembering her. Unfortunately, she rummages through the drawers a bit and finds the piece of wood that bears Frankie and Cat’s initials (the one Frankie took from their old schoolhouse last season).

That’s just it: this is the Frankie and Cat show. If you don’t think Cat is the center, then you must agree that Frankie and Cat, jointly, are the essence of everything. The show probably should have been called Frankie and Cat, because they are just as inseparable as Laverne and Shirley, Cagney and Lacey, or any other daring duo you can name.

Maybe even Sam is realizing that.

dotted-divider2

At Frankie’s flat, Sadie finds Frankie on the floor, the dirt from Cat’s grave still on her face.

Frankie: If she wasn’t with me, she’d still be at work. She’d … she’d be alive.

Oh, no. The rule of the last antecedent only works for pronouns and the law, not people and death. And anyway, the guy who gave her the cigarette is probably to blame, if you think about it. Cigarettes kill!

Sadie tries to calm Frankie down, but the only thing Frankie can think to do is to use sex as an anaesthetic, just like she used to. Sadie resists at first, but then Frankie says “Please” and Sadie sorta gets it, and/or sorta wants it.

It’s a hollow end to a hollow episode. I simply would have liked to see more, much more, of Cat’s one wild and precious life.

dotted-divider2

Have you read Harriet Braun’s blog post about this episode? It seems she was concerned about finding a “fitting ending to a very dramatic love triangle.” And of course she should be. But I don’t think she quite got there.

After I watched this episode, I was too devastated to do much of anything. So my beloved and I took our dog for a walk. Here’s what we came up with as alternative “fitting endings.”

  • Do a crazy mass-confrontation episode in which Sam finds out the truth and Cat feels horrible end everybody deals with it, and then have Cat and Frankie move to NYC to start a new life so that Cat is only present for 10 minutes in every other episode but is still alive.
  • Go ahead and do the car accident thing, but put Cat in a very dramatic coma in fine soapy TV tradition, and then have her reawaken in episode 6 of this season, disfigured and played by a different actress but still alive. (“How different you look!” says Sam, still knowing Cat is the love of her life. “You’re actually cuter!” says Frankie, always looking to trade up.)
  • Have Jay give Cat some bad drugs that send her on a walkabout for a couple of seasons, after which she returns with leaves in her hair, a mysterious tattoo on her butt, and no idea who she is — and every possibility in the world in front of her because she’s still alive.
  • Do the same horrible car accident thing, but at least take full advantage of Laura Fraser’s considerable talent and cuteness for the entire episode, instead of giving us a paltry 18.5 minutes of her lively face and way too much time with her corpse. End the episode with the crash and try to start fresh from there.

(Note that the first and third options assume that Laura Fraser is still at least partly available, but guess what? She totally is! And everyone should have waited to see what would happen with the Homeland pilot before throwing out our baby Cat with the bathwater like that.)

I don’t know. I get that Harriet Braun was pretty much painted into a corner, and I know this is her show, not ours. But I just don’t understand why she took this route. It doesn’t feel authentic. It feels spiteful and petulant.

We were all enjoying this fun, funny, provocative, soapy, gorgeously gay show, and whatever happens next, that show is over.

In closing, I would like to present a couple of quotes for your consideration:

“Occasionally writers talk about feeling like a script has come from somewhere outside of themselves, and they’re just transcribing what they hear. Well, it’s the first time I’ve ever experienced that for a full sixty pages.” — Harriet Braun

“Ilene Chaiken says she had no control over any of it because, you know, these things just write themselves.” — Me, recapping another show in which a central character was killed off for no good reason

Whatever. Lexy warned us at the beginning of the episode: when people snuff it, only junk gets left behind. Here’s hoping (against hope) that next week’s episode proves her and me wrong.