If you think Celia Daniels is just a grumpy mother, then I’m sorry, she’s being portrayed as a manipulative mastermind.

This week’s Emmerdale plays a game that’s both insidious and infuriating: Ray Walters finally gets a moment of genuine happiness when he arranges a romantic dinner with Laurel Thomas.

You’d expect them to have a peaceful night, talk about their future, clarify their feelings, and at least get a few hours of peace.

But no, Celia appears like a poisonous wind.

She doesn’t knock to ask permission. She gatecrashes straight in, sits down, and stares at Laurel as if appraising a piece of merchandise.

The cleverness of Celia lies in her lack of immediate outburst. She speaks in a falsely polite manner, her words soft, but each word is a dagger. Celia asks questions in a way that prevents you from reacting rudely, then subtly brings up Laurel’s past, how much pain she’s suffered, how wrong choices she’s made, as if hinting that Laurel has a problem. Ray sat there, his face tense, but he was in a dilemma: a strong reaction would be seen as rude, while silence would only push Celia further. Laurel was both annoyed and confused, as this was the first time she had encountered a “future mother-in-law” with such a direct, controlling energy.

But the most terrifying thing wasn’t the moment Celia interrupted dinner. It was what followed, when Celia separated Laurel for a private conversation. She chose the moment Laurel was alone, the moment Laurel was wondering whether she should trust Ray. And Celia immediately shifted the topic: telling a story that made Laurel believe Ray wasn’t the kind of decent man she thought he was. Celia didn’t need proof.