Terence Turner arrived on his father's doorstep in April this year having been sent down from Oxford where he was studying agriculture. Far too sophisticated, he feels, for a farming career. Terence has been trying to make his fortune ever since with a series of unlikely schemes such as "home-made" lime pickle and rock climbing. He is currently working on a dry ski slope project. Arrogant and lazy, Terence can nevertheless be amusing when he wishes, and he's recently been going out with Sandie Merrick, much to the consternation of the Sugden family.
Stephen Marchant (Terence Turner):
The other day Stephen Marchant was standing in Boots, innocently queing to buy a tube of toothpaste, when a young girl rushed over and spat at him: "I hate you!"
The other shoppers politely glanced away, assuming it was some lover's tiff, but Stephen had never seen the girl before and in fact she wasn't even talking to him. Her venom was intended for Terence Turner, Alan Turner's unpleasant son.
Stephen Marchant and the arrogant smoothie Terence have very little in common. Unlike Oxford-educated Turner, Stephen is an East Ender who left school as soon as he could for a series of dead-end jobs. He went to America and worked for a time as a DJ on an American radio station. Then he returned to England and has spent the last five years working in theatre in Bristol.
"If I wasn't an actor I'd work in conservation or some form of ecology," says Terence.
Kathy basically told him that she wasn't interested. And she told him that what the locals said about him was quite wrong: "Pillock's nowhere near it!"
Terence moved over to the bar and tried to get back in Sandie's good books. He invited her back for a "nightcap". "Thanks, Terry," said Sandie, who had overheard his conversation with Kathy. "But I'd only be in the way!"
Terence was puzzled: "Sorry?"
"Well, I thought Kathy Bates would be there?"
"Very funny!" and Terence left the pub.
Despite his differences with his son, Alan was greatly looking forward to having him at home over the festive season.
"Well, it'll be all right over Christmas," he replied. "I thought we might have a bit of a party. You know, nothing lavish - a sort of in loco Lord of the Manor do."
Terence broke the news that he would not be in Beckindale for Christmas: a friend had phoned, he had rented a cottage in Ireland over the festive season - "with plenty of booze and a bit of skirt", and had invited Terence to join him. Terence eagerly anticipated being saved from a "celibate Christmas".
"Nothing to keep me here, is there?" asked Terence.
"No. No, I suppose not."After Terence had retired to bed, Alan switched off the Christmas tree lights and retired to his own room, his plans for the festive season in tatters.