There’s nothing like a good old-fashioned car crash to bring people together. Amanda is shovelled, semi-conscious and bleeding from her dainty ear, into A&E while her nearest and dearest hop around like mad things in the waiting room. Peter’s beside himself – if it wasn’t for his big glary beams, Mandy wouldn’t be all mashed up. There’s good news, though. Mandy’s X-rays show that she’s only burst an ear drum. Peter asks if he can see Amanda, gallantly announcing, “I am her husband.” With love in his eyes, Peter takes Mandy’s hand. It looks like he could forgive and forget, but then the doctor appears with Mandy’s blood test report. There was barely a drop of blood in the old girl; she was running on red wine alone. Peter leaps away from the bed. “Your drunk driving could have killed me…or Ryan!” he shrieks. Peter’s all shook up by the idea that he could get sucked back into caring about Amanda, only to have it all ripped away again. Beat the parents

Amanda’s bawling her eyes out again. She knows Peter still loves her; she could see it in his eyes. He’s got a funny way of showing it; he reappears with Jack.The Mand’s under arrest. Kelli has to bail her sis out – with Mandy’s money, of course. She must be delighted with the way things are turning out. “My whole life is just disintegrating and I don’t know why,” Mandy wails.

We do, we do! Down on the beach, Belle and Drew are having another scrap about their parents. “You don’t think your slaggy mother deserved it?” Drew snipes, to Belle’s outrage. She reckons Drew’s still sore because Mandy rejected him, and this is his revenge. It sort of reminds you what a weird and twisted world these lot inhabit, really. Grand mad

Alf’s back! He dashed back from Nigeria because he was worried about Martha when he heard she quit her job and moved out.

Over a few beers, Ric fills him in on the whole story. Alf is round Martha’s gaff before you can say “mongrel.” He packs her bags and orders her to come back to Sal’s. “From now on you’re gonna do as you’re told!” Alf barks.

“This rebellion thing of yours, it’s over.” Of course, she won’t go, but Alf can out-strop the Marth when he wants to. He evicts her. See how she likes that! Sally warns a seething Alf that the hardline approach just pushes Marth away, so he ambles round the next morning for a cup of tea and a chat with a satin-pants clad Cam.

Alf almost nods off while the Eyebrow drones on about the Rocket being a respectable establishment, but as soon as Martha’s out of earshot he leans in, growling, “I don’t buy your slick used car-salesman act.” If Cam so much as hurts a hair on Martha’s head, he won’t know what hit him. The flamin’ gallah.

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