It's Just Nick

(This post was originally posted by Graeme N on the Coronation Street Blog in April 2015, reposted with permission.)

Exactly what kind of aftershave does Nick Tilsley slap round his chops every morning? Whatever it is, it's working. 

If I was him I'd still be recovering from being Praying Mantis Erica's Christmas plaything. But no, now he's sitting in Carla's flash apartment with its loud wallpaper and curious newfangled fireplace topping up her wine glass in his shirt sleeves and tucking her in for the night. Does he just pick on strong women when they are vulnerable? After all he's married Leanne Gob On A Stick Battersby not once, but twice! 

Leaving aside Nick's good fortune with the ladies for just one second, what has happened to his life-affecting brain injury? For a moment my computer alerted me that I had spelt it BRIAN injury by mistake - oh the irony. Remember big toothed, unusually muscled for a man who lives on pies and hotpot Brian Tilsley? Well clearly Nick doesn't because he never mentions him. Seriously though, did the shaving off of Nick's "I'm nasty now" beard signal the end of that particular story arc?

Back to the bedside manner. Nick has had dalliances with Natasha the hairdresser (who turned out to be a bit bonkers), Becky (ditto), Eva (who turned out to be a bit Eva) and Leanne, who despite her family background, lap-dancer background, fire-starter to claim on insurance background and general frowny stompiness (Ok I'm making up words now), is considered quite a catch. Yes, even though she has that Simon child biting at her ankles. We fondly remember their first wedding, when they ran away to a television version of Gretna Green back when Nick had a different face and skin tone.

I can kind of see what the women of Weatherfield see in Nick. He's handsome, sophisticated (ish) and successful (somehow). He's the man who brought orzo and halloumi to Coronation Street and served it in under a viaduct. Being honest, if he brought me a bottle of red and a molten chocolate pudding after hours I'd happily let him plump my cushions and pop on Texas' Greatest Hits. 

Carla and Nick though? Really? I maintain she would have him for breakfast and still have room for one of Roy's sausage and egg baps. I just don't get it. He sat on her couch the other night like her gay best friend. I don't see the chemistry and I don't see him being Carla's type. For a start he hasn't locked Leanne in his car boot, thrown Roy into the canal or been falsely imprisoned for the murder of a neighbour he was enjoying trysts with in the local Travelodge.

Still, I'd prefer Nick and Carla to Nick and Erica. I know Liz needs a pal, but must it be Erica? She zooms into shot with all the subtlety of a very unsubtle thing.  The only thing I do like about her is her wonderful ability to get up simpering Gail's nose. 

So do any of these preposterous love matches work for you?

Follow me on Twitter @GraemeN82 



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