It's spring in Albert Square. The daffs are out; the trees are in leaf and love is in the air. Actually it's early March; the daffs are plastic, the leaves are made of material and tied on with cotton, and Den and Angie and Dot and Ethel and the gang are shivering on the outside set at Elstree. Today Michelle and Lofty get engaged on a bench in the square. Lofty is frozen; Michelle is laughing. She's got her baby to keep her warm - a large vest padded with foam and muslin - "Jolly useful place to keep a hot water bottle or a hip flask" says Susan Tully who plays Michelle. It's not easy living in a fantasy world. People keep asking Susan where her baby is. "I tell them the truth - it's hanging up in the dressing room." As the day goes on, there's tragic news about Willy; Wendy Richard talks about her private life and Leslie Grantham explains why he's writing to the Guinness Book of Records.

Heathrow is the world's busiest airport - 45,000 people work here and cater for 75,000 passengers a day. Here is Bernadette MacDonald, check-in girl, never without a smile on her face. "It comes on when I arrive and it gets peeled off like a mask when I leave." Up on the roof the plane-spotters are bugging the control tower for up-to-date information. In terminal three, the photographers are snatching the stars. Today, it's Shirley Bassey. There are tearful farewells and happy reunions.

Nellie has got a sore throat, Bruce has an eye problem and keeps bumping into things, and Whiskey is coming round from an operation to stop him chasing the girls. Nellie is a 10 1/2-foot python, Bruce is a tortoise and Whiskey was a tom cat. Today they're all in the consulting rooms at the Blue Cross Hospital for Sick Animals which has been operating for 50 years just behind Victoria Station. It's for pet owners who can't afford vets, and all animal - and human - life is here.

Next time your car breaks down or won't start, and the AA says there's a two-hour wait, here's a tip. Tell them you're a doctor or a nurse or a teacher. Say you're a plumber on an emergency call - and you'll get priority. "It's a good trick", says Sgt Johnny Towers , who is based at Stanmore, Britain's busiest AA Centre. "That way they get instant service." Today a doctor is locked out of his car. They rush to his rescue. He is a doctor. "Any patients waiting?", he's asked. "Well, no ... I'm a doctor of science." Nice one. A nun with a flat battery calls in - and a woman with two children has to be towed away. On the M4 a member who "breaks down all the time" waits patiently for help, along with hundreds of other casualties who haven't thought to tell a lie.

Round and round the dog track at Walthamstow goes 75-year-old Leo Olley , painting everything that doesn't move. He's there every day before the punters arrive, singing old wartime songs and making sure all is spick and span. "I've got a job for life", he says, "it's just like the Forth Bridge." Greyhound racing is Britain's second most popular sport. It's colourful and exciting and packed with a cross-section of larger than life characters. Johanna Beumer, schoolmistress by day, owner and punter by night, dresses from head to toe in either red, white or blue, depending on the colour her dog is wearing. Tonight it's red. Some you win, some you lose. But as trainer Louis Solomon explains, "If you took away the element of surprise, people would stop coming."

In April this year, nine KC 135 Stratotankers - flying petrol pumps - took off from Fairford to refuel the F-111s that bombed Libya. Yet an incident that made world headlines and caused an international crisis seems to have had little effect on the local people. The baker hardly notices the Americans. The water bailiff doesn't worry about their presence. Only a small warning voice is heard every so often. "If there is a war, Fairford is a bulls eye", says author Susie Vereker. "The whole of Gloucestershire is, in fact." In the meantime sheep are sheared, bells are rung and the harvest is safely gathered in.