Jack Webster takes a stroll down Coronation Street and discovers there

is more than fiction to the community which has captured the hearts of

viewers across the country for 35 years

IT WAS mid-morning in Weatherfield and I had Coronation Street to

myself. A knock at the door of the Rovers Return brought no response.

Life had not yet stirred for Britain's most famous community so I

contented myself with peering in at the window of Denise's hair salon,

strolling past Derek and Mavis's little residence and down to Rita's

Kabin.

The Corner Shop is directly across the street and the garage is

discreetly tucked in behind the Kabin, all neatly compact and in

slightly smaller scale than it looks on television. The buildings are

solid brick right enough but nothing is filmed in their interiors.

In reality, that brick wall you see at the end of the street conceals

the spacious Stage One, where most of the interior filming takes place

-- three episodes every week to hold its peerless place as the most

remarkable and enduring piece of television this country has ever seen.

At the other side of that brick wall I looked out from the children's

room (complete with blackboard and teddy bears, where the youngsters in

the show are tutored according to law) and watched the cast arrive.

An open-topped Mercedes swung into the Granada car park. Even from a

distance I knew it could only be Mike Baldwin. He looked exactly

himself. And so it was with everyone at Coronation Street.

Audrey Roberts drove up in an E-reg banger, Jack and Vera Duckworth

strolled past with a cheery greeting, Reg Holdsworth's dreaded

mother-in-law, the elderly Maud, came in with the sweep of a most

gracious lady, followed by her daughter, the long-suffering Maureen, who

turned out to be one of the surprises in reality -- a disarmingly

attractive woman.

While they headed for the Green Room, where lines are rehearsed and

social chit-chat exchanged, I was reaching the fourth floor of Granada

Television headquarters to meet the lady who masterminds this national

institution.

Sue Pritchard, producer of Coronation Street, sits behind the desk

where the buck truly stops. She is the down-to-earth lady who must cope

with the traumas of losing Julie Goodyear from her role as Bet Gilroy at

The Rovers and Ken Morley from his clownish character of Reg Holdsworth.

She must know how to deal with young Simon Gregson, better known as

Steve McDonald, who followed earlier indiscretions by admitting to a

#500-a-week cocaine habit.

The careful handling of personalities who become celebrities beyond

the level of their actual talent calls for a special talent in itself.

Indeed, in reviewing the 35 years of Coronation Street and trying to

assess its possible lifetime -- will it reach 50 years, even 100? -- you

realise that destruction would come most likely from the inside.

So who is this lady with her hand on the tiller? And, even more

fascinating than the high-jinks of the stars, how do they put this

remarkable show together?

Ms Pritchard, from South Wales, arrived at Granada 25 years ago, after

a business course, and became secretary to the producer of Coronation

Street.

She was then a production assistant on series like Brideshead

Revisited before scaling the ladder to the commanding role of producer.

''Coronation Street has 15 script-writers and three story-liners,''

she explains. ''Every four months I chair a long-term story conference,

where we all get together, including the archivist, who must remind us

of what happened in the past. Our purpose is to talk about how the

stories will run over the next four months.

''Then every three weeks we have an ordinary story conference, again

with the same people, but now we are talking about the next nine

episodes. We film three weeks in advance.

''We follow an agenda which picks up from the previous nine episodes.

So we know where we are; and from the long-term conference we know the

general direction in which we are going.

''The writers play the most important role because they come up with

ideas. That doesn't mean that others don't have an input. I tend to play

devil's advocate because stories can pass through fairly easily unless

someone is there to say 'Ah, but . . . '

''So we have a healthy debate which can become quite argumentative but

it can be fun as well. There's a lot of concentration involved and you

come out of those conferences feeling whacked.''

Not unnaturally, the scriptwriters hold a lot of sway in Coronation

Street. Writers like Adele Rose have been there for a long time and

personify the continuity essential to a programme like this.

The three story-liners take the accumulated ideas of the conference

and go off to break it all down, scene by scene.

''I decide which nine writers will write the next nine episodes,''

says Sue Pritchard. ''They do a complete episode each. I read the

scripts and sometimes think 'This was not the attitude of the last

episode'. So there can be hiccups in continuity.

''New characters are the most difficult because, until they are

established, different writers can see them in different ways.

''Personally, I look on it all as a high-speed train. It is the

producer's responsibility to see the train stays on the track and

doesn't lose any passengers, heads in the right direction and doesn't

get shunted off down a siding.

''When I come back from a holiday I have to run to keep on track

myself, reading all the scripts I've missed.''

As Coronation Street has developed a character of its own, what is the

enduring element which keeps it at the top?

''I think the essential ingredient is optimism,'' says Pritchard.

''Even with darker stories, there is always the hint of a light at the

end of the tunnel. I was watching a recent episode, not yet seen, which

was so moving that I cried. By the end, however, I was hysterical.

Research over the 35 years has shown that we have kept up to date.

''One of the successes, I think, is that you can be away and miss an

episode and still catch up quite easily. Elsewhere in television, if you

miss one you are more inclined to stop watching.''

The story-lines must take account of real-life circumstances, like the

cancer of Ann Kilbride (Deirdre), for which a few optional routes had to

be left open. Then Sally Webster was having a real-life baby.

As if natural circumstances were not enough, along came the recent

bombshells of Bet Gilroy and Reg Holdsworth wanting to leave. In all

truth, the role of Reg has been largely derailed by removing him from

his supermarket job, with a knock-on effect on Curly Watts, his

assistant, an excellent character who deserves better.

Bet wants to spread her wings, an ambition fulfilled by Arthur Lowe,

who successfully became Captain Mainwaring of Dad's Army, but by very

few others. Joanna Lumley and Ben Kingsley were out of Coronation Street

before they were entrenched. So it is a risk which needs careful

thought.

Pritchard is well used to keeping an even keel when individual egos

threaten to unbalance it.

''If you have a cast of 31 main characters you are bound to have

problems periodically,'' she concedes. ''But we have a fairly open show

and if people are not happy they can come and talk about it. I like to

think my door is always open.

''Naturally we have a lot of press interest in the cast and that's

what presents our main problem. Every now and again I have an actor in

distress about something which is in the papers. Sometimes that kind of

interest is a complete intrusion and the pressures can be distracting.

''What upsets me is when they print leaks about the story-line. We get

letters from people who are furious at being told in advance. 'We don't

want to know!' is what they say.''

Rumours about the stars and contract rows are another annoyance for

Pritchard. But people do leave -- and some do misbehave. The cocaine

problem of Simon Gregson is among the latest to bring the show into

disrepute and the word is that he is on his last chance.

Pritchard tells me: ''Of course we're never happy when these things

happen. So Simon and I have had meaningful conversations on the

matter.'' She was just getting to grips with reports of another personal

problem, concerning the lad who plays young Nicky Platt.

Others get on with a balanced life, like Barbara Knox (Rita), who

still pursues her career as a singer, and Bill Tarmie (Jack Duckworth)

who records with a more than passable singing voice.

Those who have come from the south tend to retain a home base around

London, while working from a flat in the Manchester area.

So I wandered down by the Green Room, where the inhabitants of

Coronation Street were coming and going, rehearsing their lines and

waiting for the Wednesday afternoon technical rehearsal, when the crew

work out the various camera angles.

Off-set location shots are often filmed on Sunday, with street shots

on Monday, leaving Tuesday and Wednesday for rehearsal. That means the

actual filming has to be done on Thursday and Friday, lasting for as

long as it takes to secure all three episodes for a forthcoming week.

It was lunchtime when I reached the Green Room. As a thunderstorm

broke over Manchester, Jim McDonald arrived in his car, running in from

the rain with an Irish expletive about the weather. Liz was already

there. So were Bet and Rita, Des and Curly. Gail has a more cultured

voice than the soap suggests.

Martin Platt, looking every inch himself, called out: ''Who wants a

Harry Ramsden then?'' And off he went for four fish suppers. Steve

McDonald gave me a courteous greeting, rather a nice lad in contrast to

his objectionable character.

As they mixed in an atmosphere of good-natured tension, I wandered

back to the street itself, a kind of memory lane for 35 years of my own

life. I thought of great characters who lived here long ago -- Ena

Sharples, Annie Walker and Jack, Elsie Tanner, Albert Tatlock, Hilda

Ogden and her beloved lay-about husband, Stan.

Now there are only two survivors from 1960 -- Ken Barlow and Emily

Bishop, the devoted assistant of Leonard Swindley (Arthur Lowe) in those

early days of the haberdashery.

I was thinking, too, of Tony Warren, the young staff writer at Granada

who dreamed up the whole idea of Coronation Street, but later ran into

personal problems and was for long persona non grata around Granada.

He lives in Manchester to this day and Pritchard says fondly: ''We are

still in touch with Tony. After all, we wouldn't be here without him.''

I turned the corner at the end of Coronation Street and ran into a

sight which stopped me in my tracks -- a simple little plot with a

gravestone to Stan Ogden: Died 1984, aged 62.

And I thought of Hilda's flying ducks and knew that there was more to

this street than a fiction. However the cynics may scoff, it is a

reflection of our own lives.

Through all those years I had postponed a visit to Coronation Street,

lest it would break an illusion. But, if anything, it strengthened a

reality. And I knew at that moment that I would not wish it to end in my

own lifetime.