EastEnders sensation. The morning after the disastrous night before, Denise awoke to a terrible sight… Phil Mitchell.

There he was snoring unattractively on the sofa beside her. Horrific proof she’d done the unthinkable with the unspeakable. Yes, she’d had drunken sex with Walford’s worst human being. Cheers.

Two sworn enemies in a dangerous liaison that cried out for a viewers’ helpline. If you’ve been affected by the mismatched couple from hell exchanging fluids, you can call us on: 0800 I Want To Be Sick.

Of course, Denise still blames old Baldy for the untimely death of Kevin, the best of her many husbands. But after the booze got the better of her she did the dirty deed with a man she passionately hates. Literally. Which she’ll never forget. And Phil can’t remember. It must be love.

By now dismayed Denise had fled the sordid scene and was desperately trying to put it all behind her. She had more pressing issues to worry about.

It’s still not clear why Oxford boffin Libby returned to tell her mother that she was pregnant only to immediately unveil her controversial plans to have an abortion. If she’s so clever, why didn’t she just do it and keep it to herself? Simples.

But naturally, Denise was furious. In Soapland they still take a Victorian approach to a woman’s right to decide. Getting rid of an unwanted baby may have been legal since 1967. But to Albert Square’s thoroughly unmodern Cockney rabble it remains an unconscionable crime against nature.

“Are you not pro choice?” enquired Carmel. “What are we?” snarled Denise. “American?” No, British. And this is the 21st century. Get used to it.

Meanwhile, in a turbulent hour long episode, there was a new melodrama in town as hapless Jay became a fully-fledged sex offender. Everyone blamed him for not asking Star/Linzi how old she was. But would the lying schoolgirl have told him she was 14?

With indecent haste, the misunderstood mechanic pleaded guilty to having explicit pictures of a minor on his phone. And Phil stormed: “Git art. I ain’t having a convicted paedo under my roof.” Exit Jay pursued by Star’s bruiser brother and his hoody chums. A violent battering ensued.

Later, to make matters even worse, there was no room at the inn as Queen Vic landlord Mick Carter informed Jay: “This is a family pub so I’m going to ask you nicely to leave.” Oh the shame. But it’s a safe bet that Jay’s disgrace will soon be erased from history. Like Mick’s kerb crawling.

Full marks to the Beeb’s writers for finally coming up with a few plotlines to get the punters talking. With half the cast either gay or non-binary, the ludicrously PC BBC continues with its cloud-cuckoo version of London’s East End. But it’s the best it’s been for ages. And at least they’ve stopped boring us rigid with torrents of turgid tosh about bipolar Stacey’s “meds”.

In other news, it was the Walford Gazette’s prestigious Pride Of Walford awards. A non-event hosted by TV’s scruffiest restaurant ahead of tin-pot tycoon Ian Beale secretly selling the joint.

“I want Beales to go out with a bang,” he declared, as if there wasn’t quite enough banging going on already.

Anyway, when soppy Sonya won some sort of trophy with several hundred other people, tawdry Tina delivered a heartfelt speech alerting the crowd to her girlfriend’s thieving past.

Her moment of glory ruined, seething Sonya strutted off. “I’m so stupid,” sobbed Tina. Agreed.

But not to worry, there are plenty more fish in the sea. A warm welcome to sapphic Sophie, the latest lesbian to join the fray. There may be trouble ahead.