Who? No, it's milkman Terry for me

NORFOLK-based star Terry Molloy delighted Cromer Christmas lighting committee secretary Vera Woodcock by writing members a thank-you letter for a mug he received after helping to switch on the town's festive displays.

NORFOLK-based star Terry Molloy delighted Cromer Christmas lighting committee secretary Vera Woodcock by writing members a thank-you letter for a mug he received after helping to switch on the town's festive displays.

The actor was, said last week's North Norfolk News, “best known” for his role as Davros in Dr Who.


I hear deafening shouts of protest from BBC Radio 4 listeners.

The stats: Dr Who first launched in 1963. Radio 4 soap The Archers has been on air since 1950. Terry has played Davros for a mere 24 years, but he's been Ambridge milkman Mike Tucker since 1973.

There have been long gaps between series of Dr Who, which achieved peak modern-era viewing figures of 13.31 million viewers with the 2007 Voyage of the Damned Christmas special.

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There has never been a break in The Archers, which can be heard six days a week and attracts nearly five million weekly listeners.

Daleks creator Davros only gets an occasional look-in during Dr Who series. One-eyed Mike can be heard whingeing his semi-skimmed way around Ambridge most days.

I'd bet a pint of Shires at The Bull (Ambridge's local) that Mr Molloy's better known as the moaning milkman than the megalomaniac mad scientist.

PICTURE the scene: reaching the top of the stairs at home, your eye is caught by movement in one of the bedrooms.

The hackles on the back of your neck rise as you watch a large rat scurry out of the bedroom - and into your bathroom.

Ella Carstairs wouldn't go into her bathroom after witnessing that horror clip for real in her Colby cottage between Christmas and New Year's Day - and I don't blame her.

She phoned North Norfolk District Council in desperation and was referred to the Yellow Pages to find a private pest-control firm.

NNDC has come under fire recently in this paper for withdrawing its rat control service while neighbouring councils still send someone out to deal with the disease-carrying, fast-breeding vermin for free, or a nominal sum.

In last week's North Norfolk News Cromer deputy mayor Yvonne Nolan called for the local service to be reinstated saying it could cost as much as £50 to hire a private firm, which was “a lot of money for senior citizens.”

“Only £50?” said Ella, who is 78. “I paid £100 to get rid of my rat!” She doesn't begrudge the cash as the firm she used came round the next day, killed the monster and laid bait for its friends and relations.

But she does worry about the many who can't afford to cough up that sort of sum but are plagued by rats, saying: “I'm lucky. It was the most horrible feeling and it was worth the money to feel the relief of knowing it was dead and out of my house.”

I'm with Ella: bring back our Pied Piper.

BATHROOM scales are a novelty for my kids and they head straight for them in other people's homes.

When I left home at 18 I deliberately left behind forever scales, full-length mirrors and years of teenage obsession with weight and food.

I grew up in the “does my bum look big in this?” generation, constantly yo-yoing between too-tight jeans when the dieting was working, and voluminous 'maxi' skirts when it wasn't.

Tragically many girls (and a growing number of boys) get dangerously sucked in during that teen-hell stage and develop dangerous eating disorders.

Their conviction that losing weight will make them more attractive gets complicated with a sense of achievement at being in control of something in an unpredictable world.

As an adult my instinct is that anyone with an eating disorder needs grown-up professional support. But often they won't seek help.

A survey of 600 young sufferers by the charity Beat showed that the vast majority did not feel they could talk to their parents, a doctor or nurse.

Meg Crayford-Noble and her friends' Fight to Live website is the missing link for many young victims - a halfway house where they can talk about their feelings to peers who listen and don't make judgements. And when Meg's lent a sympathetic ear, she advises people to seek confidential help from their GP.

The response to the website indicates a huge need for this service.

To use the language of commerce, Meg has identified a gap in the market - except that Meg and her friends aren't out to make money; they want to save lives.

As a witness said about the crew who safely landed the stricken British Airways jet at Heathrow last week - they deserve a medal “as big as a frying pan”.