For a man who seemed to have his face on backwards, in keeping with the show's title, D.C. Gabriel Markham was whooping it up a storm on the womanising front with his D.I., Elaine, who seemed sexually besotted. Catching the zeitgeist with the current
horrors of acid attacks, gruesome deaths were the order of the days, which constantly rewound in hectic plot bites to the start, when Gabriel had his own face but was clearly due some come uppance for shameless knee tremblers with the D.I. in the police office
Turned out it was this li'l lady herself who was Mrs. Psychopants, due to her mother having been murdered in front of her infant sociopathic eyes, when she fixated for life on the young copper who found her. Yep, you guessed it, it was
her very own Angel Gabriel, in a neatly turned if ultimately daft and incredible circle.
If you could follow it weekly, well done. I had to resort to back to back catch ups to try to manage that, a somewhat dizzying experience punctuated by cries
"Hang on. Who's that?"
You tended to forget about her....
Still, it got me over Dr Foster, where even functioning relationships were ludicrously disfunctional. I felt particularly for the supposed new
flame, a tame kind of teacher, who JUST DIDN'T GET IT, and was liable to turn up hopefully with pain au chocolat of a morning, when his inamorata had already been seething since dawn, metaphorically grinding her ex husband's bones for her daily bread instead.
The teacher always seemed surprised and disappointed to be kicked into touch yet again, as she beetled frenziedly past him on her way out to do more damage, yelling,
"This isn't working!" in the teeth of his continued attempts to ignore
the supposed realities going on all around his bemused and reasonable little face. Aww Bless.