I don’t know what to say. I should; I’ve had enough practice, after all. When we lost Tara in True Blood I was livid. When we lost Alice in Under The Dome, I was grateful for the care and tenderness with which her death was treated. And when Skins: Fire came out, I turned my back entirely, which wasn’t too difficult since it was ostensibly the end of the whole Skins saga. But Lord, if we’ve lost Kate, I may finally be struck dumb.
Perhaps it’s that “if” I find so confounding, because, like many of you, I’m still holding out hope that Kate is merely injured and next week will see Caroline attending someone else’s funeral. (At the very least, I hope that Kate is not, as one commenter asserted, reappearing as a ghost.) I don’t want to eulogize Kate until we know for sure that she is gone. Of course, I don’t want to seem like an idiot next week if I’ve misplaced my trust in television yet again. Given the choice, though, I would rather be wrong for hoping than be right and have no hope at all.
But I’ve gotten ahead of myself; there’s a whole episode to recap and the bit that concerns us doesn’t happen ‘til the end. When last we left Halifax, Caroline eschewed attending Kate and Caroline’s wedding in favor of sitting at home and turning her frown lines into frown canyons. Caroline, deeply hurt by her mother’s (and Lawrence’s) absence, told Alan that he needn’t attend without Celia. Gillian’s affair with Robbie cost her her job, but on the plus side, she became the proud owner of a high-end vibrator. And whether or not we agree on whether or not I am funny/knowledgeable/a blitherer, I think we all detected something fishy behind Gary’s blindingly white smile.
We resume episode (DAMMIT, ALAN, YOU’VE GIVEN ME YOUR DISEASE) at the wedding, where Caroline and Kate breathe new life into the old words about honoring, loving, and cherishing one another.
Their eyes shine with love and hope and it is almost enough to distract me from their outfits. (The one thing my girlfriend and I agreed on about this episode is that, while you are not obligated to say yes to the dress, you should at least spruce up more than you would for brunch.) While they make vows, Celia and Lawrence watch cartoons. (It is pretty much a law of creation that when you skip out on doing something you know you should do, you must fill that time by being the most useless lump imaginable.) Alan finds them in this position and is like, “Welp, I’m gonna head back to Halifax until you decide you’re done being mad with me.” He sadly hobbles away even though you can tell Lawrence is seriously considering jumping up and shouting, “DON’T GO, GRANDAD.”
At Gillian’s, Raff is like, “Why weren’t we invited to the wedding?” And Gillian is like “we were, but when there isn’t enough drama going on, I take it upon myself to stir some up.” Luckily, that burden will no longer be Gillian’s in the near future. Right at that moment, Robbie shows up and proposes marriage.
Robbie is clearly the best thing that could happen to Gillian, a stabilizing force that acknowledges the worst of her while patiently trying to bring out the best. And his proposal is so rugged and honest and kind, and it’s all about partnership. So naturally, she says she needs some time to think about it.
YOU KNOW, I JUST STARTED SEEING THIS VIBRATOR AND I WANT TO SEE WHERE THAT’S GOING.