Public Eye – A Fixed Address

a fixed address

The first noticeable thing about A Fixed Address is that it’s in colour.  The original broadcast, back in 1969, was in black and white, but the programme was recorded in colour as a test for the forthcoming switchover.  It takes a little getting used to, as after six episodes of moody, black and white stories it’s something of a jolt.

The story opens with Frank and Mrs Mortimer working together on the dishes.  It’s another example of how comfortable he’s become with her – he’s now essentially one of the family.  The only guests staying are a young couple – Peter (Barrie Rutter) and Rosemary (Deborah Grant).  Peter is rather oafish and irritating whilst Rosemary is quiet and polite.  They don’t seem to be enjoying themselves especially and Frank wonders why.  This allows Mrs Mortimer to demonstrate her detective skills for once.  She tells Frank that they’re not married (she knew this when Peter didn’t know whether Rosemary liked kippers!) and this explains why they don’t quite seem at ease with each other.  She tells Frank that apart from enjoying love-making “they’ve nothing else in common.  They’re going to make themselves very miserable.”

It’s a nice moment that forges the bond between Mrs Mortimer and Frank a little tighter, although we’ll see upcoming events threaten this.  Frank’s looking to start up on his own again, as an enquiry agent, and he’s searching for offices.  When his probation officer, Jim Hull, calls round, she lets slip this information – which comes as a surprise to him.  He then offers Mrs Mortimer a word of advice (“Marker’s a very lonely man, I mean he’s a lone wolf.  Don’t make too many plans involving him.”)  Needless to say, this doesn’t go down well.

Events then take an unexpected turn when Mrs Mortimer’s estranged husband, Denis (Philip Brack) appears on the doorstep.  This provides the meat of the episode as he enjoys several spiky encounters with Frank as well as some memorable sparring matches with his wife.  He’s a charmer – but he walked out of his marriage seven years ago and it’s clear that his presence isn’t welcomed by her.  But why has he come back?

Eventually it becomes clear.  He offers her the chance to travel to Malaya with him.  It’s a three year trip and there’s plenty of benefits.  “House servants, change of air three times time a year.  Free travel, Siam, Penang, Hong Kong.”  It sounds tempting, but it’s obvious that the offer wasn’t made out of love or affection – as Denis’ company favours married employees, rather than single ones.  Mrs Mortimer has great pleasure in telling him no and her refusal means he doesn’t waste time hanging around.

Rosemary and Peter’s relationship also founders, so this isn’t the best episode for relationships.  Unless we count Frank and Mrs Mortimer?  Series four of Public Eye was essentially the story of Frank Marker’s journey back into society. At the start, he’d just come out of prison and was something of a drifter, with no home or friends.  By A Fixed Address, he has a friend (and she clearly wants to take things further) and a home, plus the chance to start his business again in Brighton.

But series five would see all of this jettisoned in favour of a move to Windsor.  This may have been down to a change in the production team.  Series four was entirely written by Roger Marshall, but he didn’t contribute a single script to the next series.  Presumably the new producer (Michael Chapman) decided that the Brighton location had run its course and decided to move Frank on again.  This is something a of shame, since there was still areas that could have been developed (for example, Mrs Mortimer’s guest house would have been a rich source of potential clients and problems for Frank).

But notwithstanding this, series four of Public Eye saw the series hit a consistently high standard – thanks to the scripting of Roger Marshall and the fine casts, headed by the incomparable Alfred Burke.

Public Eye – The Comedian’s Graveyard

comedian's graveyard

The Comedian’s Graveyard boasts a wonderful performance from Joe Melia as Billy Raybold.  Raybold is an end-of-the-pier entertainer, who is seen at the start of the story holding auditions for his latest show.  When Judy Blackburn (Tessa Wyatt) turns up, his attention is immediately drawn to her, since she’s young, nervous and very attractive.  He does his best to calm her nerves by telling her that they’re not here to eat her (“I wouldn’t mind” mutters his sidekick Arthur Mack, played by Leslie Dwyer).  So the scene seems to be set for Raybold to take advantage of the naive girl, but it doesn’t quite work out like that.

Raybold is always performing, even when off-stage, cracking corny jokes – but there’s plenty of opportunity to view the real man behind the greasepaint (and he’s someone who’s well aware of his mediocrity).  This is clearest at the end, when he tells Judy that “I could stand being a has-been, but a never-was, that takes some swallowing.”

Frank’s still working for Joe Ryland’s detective agency (although not for long – by the end of the story he’s resigned, finally worn down by the endless form-filling and his personal dislike of Ryland) and has been given the case of locating Judy.  There’s a clear difference of opinion between Frank and Ryland – Ryland is happy to take the client’s money, but Frank feels they’d be better off going to the police.  “I’m one man.  With one pair of eyes and one pair of feet.  The population of Brighton and Hove is something like 240,000, not counting the tourists.  I”d have to get very, very, lucky.”

Eventually he agrees with Judy’s aunt, Mrs Reid (Mona Bruce) that he’ll spend a few days looking for her.  And since this is television, he does manage to find her fairly easily.  Frank spies her on the pier, handing out leaflets for Raybold’s show.  This brings Frank into conflict with Raybold, since he showed him Judy’s picture earlier in the day and he claimed not to have seen her.  Frank’s suspicious of Raybold’s motives, but the comedian tells him that “I don’t want any trouble, I’ve done nothing wrong.  All I want is some decent trade, bit of fishing, little money to show for it at the end.”

Earlier, Raybold confessed to Mack that he wasn’t getting anywhere with Judy, and he’d decided not to.  His reputation as a womanizer in the past was well known, but he now admits he’s “too old for the chase, the lies, promises, chat.”

As I’ve said, Melia’s riveting as a third-rate comedian, hiding the pain of his mundane existence behind the false bonhomie of the professional comic.  It’s a familiar character (think of Archie Rice in The Entertainer) but it works just as well here.  Tessa Wyatt is appealing as the seventeen year-old Judy, who dreams of stardom but finds that the reality is somewhat different.  Leslie Dwyer (later to be a regular in the early series of Hi-De-Hi!) offers solid support as Arthur Mack, who seems keen to move in on Judy, since Raybold isn’t interested.

Another thread developed in the story is the continuing relationship between Frank and Mrs Mortimer.  Together they take Mrs Reid to see Judy perform in the show.  Although it’s essentially a professional trip (after Judy’s performance, Mrs Reid confronts her and pleads with the girl to come home) it could also said to be virtually a date for Frank and Mrs Mortimer.  Certainly as they reach home, they’re both still in high spirits – and even though Raybold has never topped the bill at the London Palladium, he’s still able to put on a good show which they both seemed to enjoy.

Over a nightcap, the conversation turns to Frank’s long-term plans.  He confesses that he doesn’t see himself staying with Rylands much longer.  Mrs Mortimer tells him he should set up on his own again, but Frank knows that’s easier said than done.  “There’s a little item buzzing around Parliament called the private investigators bill.  The bit that caught my eye said ‘agents would have to satisfy a judge of their competence and honesty.’  And here am I, still on parole.  You’d also have to deposit a one thousand pound bond before you could set up shop.”

Mrs Mortmer offers without hesitation to provide the bond.  Frank refuses (“finance and friendship, like oil and water”) and the fact he mentioned friendship is picked up by Mrs Mortimer (“coming out of your shell, aren’t you?”)  It’s a far cry from the start of the series, where Frank was an isolated character with no friends at all.

The end of the scene does imply that Mrs Mortimer would like to be more than friends though.  But since series five would see Frank relocate again (this time to Windsor) their relationship is already on borrowed time.  Had Frank stayed in Brighton, it’s intriguing to wonder exactly what would have happened to the pair of them.  But maybe it was the fear that he was getting too domesticated that caused the programme-makers to move him on again.

Public Eye – Case for the Defence

case for the defence

Helped by the sole writer on this series, Roger Marshall, there’s a strong sense of continuity between the stories – so that at times it feels more like a serial than a series.  This is evident in Case for the Defence, which harks back to events and characters first seen in Paid in Full.

During Paid in Full, Marker tangled with Detective Constable Broome (Leslie Lawton) who was convinced that Frank had stolen a colleague’s pay-packet.  Eventually the true culprit is caught and Broome returns here to try and make amends for the injustice Frank suffered (losing his job at the builder’s yard).

Frank’s now got another job, stacking supermarket shelves, but it’s obviously far from satisfying.  Broome tells him that there’s a position vacant at a local detective agency.  It’s a tempting possibility – although it would mean the fiercely independent Frank would have to work with others (which isn’t always his strongest point).  But the chance of returning to what he knows best is irresistible, so he accepts the offer of the agency’s owner, Joe Rylands (Stanley Meadows).

His first case involves gathering evidence for the defence concerning the forthcoming trial of Barry Osborne (Billy Harmon).  This is another link back to Paid in Full – as Marker encountered Billy during that story at the police station (Marker was in another interview room, discussing the wages theft).  It’s an undisputed fact that Billy killed a garage owner, Flockton, by stabbing him with a screwdriver.  There seems to be no reason for this, which is even more baffling when you consider that Billy comes from a wealthy family and has received every privilege.

His father, Ben Osborne (William Lucas), is keen to impress on Marker that he wants his son to get off, by whatever means possible.  It’s a powerful performance from Lucas, portraying a single-minded wealthy man (who’s made his money by being the main meat supplier for the county) used to buying whatever or whoever he wants.  This is going to place him on an inevitable collision course with Marker, who prizes the truth highly and will refuse to be cowed or intimidated by him.

Frank is able to establish that Flockton had gone to prison a decade earlier for GBH.  Osborne is delighted – it gives them a chance to craft a plea of self defence.  Together, Osborne and Frank visit Flockton’s victim, Mr Jackson (Richard Bird). but a series of strokes has rendered him virtually unintelligible.  Osborne’s pressurising of the sick old man disgusts Frank, who exits the house.

By now, Frank’s seen more than enough to be convinced that Osborne will do anything, including bribery, to ensure that he can produce witnesses to support his line of defence (that Barry was attacked by Flockton and inadvertently caused his death whilst defending himself).  Frank corners Rylands and lets him know what’s been going on.

MARKER: I think you ought to know that you could be letting yourself in for a great deal of trouble.
RYLANDS: How?
MARKER: Friend Osborne and his cheque book is going around getting at witnessess. Bribing them, getting them to perjure themselves.
RYLANDS: Strong words.
MARKER: Well you’d better hear them now than in the dock.
RYLANDS: Any proof?
MARKER: Not yet.
RYLANDS: Well I’m glad you let me in on this, Marker. Yes, they’re very pleased with you, you know. I’m delighted.
MARKER: Well I don’t want another job to fold up underneath me.
RYLANDS: You’re quite right. But you must remember Marker, when you’re paid to turn up stones, you mustn’t get too queasy at what you find underneath.
MARKER: I’m not queasy, but I just don’t want to be there when he offers the judge fifty quid and a years free meat.

In the end, Barry decides to plead guilty, despite his father’s protestations.  Exactly what happened at the garage is never established, and never will be.  It’s possible that Barry was defending himself, but equally it could just have been a motiveless murder.  Later in the story, Frank talks to a friend of Barry’s, Dorry Milner (Pauline Challoner).  She’s convinced that the blame for Barry’s current situation can be firmly laid at his father’s door.  “He screwed up Barry pretty efficiently.”

There’s no pat resolution to this story.  Marker was paid to do a job, which he did to the best of his ability.  Barry’s decision to plead guilty manages to negate most of Frank’s investigations – so what we take away from Case for the Defence is the unscrupulous nature of Ben Osbourne and his assertion that the truth can be bought.

Marker’s rarely in the position to be able to pick and choose his clients and his conflicts with them, when he comes to realise that their aims are ones he is morally unable to respect, will fuel the drama of many of the episodes to come.

Public Eye – My Life’s My Own

my life's my own

After three very Marker-centric episodes, My Life’s My Own offers a change of focus – as somebody else’s problems take centre-stage.

Early on, Frank has a meeting with his probation officer, Jim Hull (John Grieve).  There’s the possibility of another labouring job, but it’s clear that Frank’s heart isn’t really in it.  He tells Hull that eventually he’ll probably return to his old job as an enquiry agent although he admits that it’s never going to earn him a fortune.  “Often, the big chunks of money can be for something quite trivial.  I mean a couple of hundred quid for finding out who’s stealing in a factory.  What, two day’s work.  And then you can spend a week or more putting the whole world straight for somebody, for a tenner.  Because that’s all they can afford.”

The possibility of doing a great deal of work for little or no reward is also the theme of this episode.  Shirley Marlowe (Stephanie Beacham) unofficially becomes a client of Frank’s after her failed suicide attempt (although no money ever changes hands).  His motivation for attempting to help her is characteristic of him (and maybe he sees something of him in her – they both appear to be loners operating on the fringes of society).

Shirley turns up at the boarding house looking for a room.  Mrs Mortimer’s away (looking after a sick relative) and Frank’s initially reluctant to let her in.  When she tells him she simply can’t walk the streets he agrees to let her have a room.  There’s something odd and off-key about her, although Frank either doesn’t pick up on it or maybe he considers that it’s not his problem.  Is the fact he didn’t spot the signs of her distress a motivation for his involvement afterwards?

She’s fond of her transistor radio, which blares out the latest pop hits.  But when it’s still playing at three in the morning, Frank’s concerned – and he breaks her door down.  He finds Shirley unconscious, with a glass containing the dregs of a cocktail of drugs nearby.  Whatever else he is, he’s good in a crisis and he drags her to the bathroom, forces her to vomit and waves some smelling salts under her nose.  He also shakes her violently and slaps her hard across the face several times, which may not be in the first aid manual!

This eventually brings her around, although she’s still very groggy.  When Mrs Mortimer returns she asks Frank why he didn’t call an ambulance.  He doesn’t have a particularly good answer, merely that he thought he could cope.  As events later seem to spiral out of control, he begins to question his judgement – maybe he decided to take charge because he’s been used to dealing with people’s problems for so long or possibly it was, as he said, to spare her family the distress of the publicity and the inevitable official enquiries that would follow.

Frank takes her out and walks her up and down Brighton seafront (a nicely atmospheric sequence).  As it’s three in the morning this attracts the attention of a passing police car, but luckily they don’t stop.  When she’s more recovered, Frank’s able to tease her story out of her – and it seems to revolve around a married man called Chris.

Frank finds a letter addressed to a Dr C Nourse (Gary Watson) and goes to visit him and his wife.  Dr Nourse confirms that Shirley used to work for them, as a nurse for his wife, but she recently left.  He seems unmoved by Shirley’s suicide attempt (claiming that it wasn’t serious – if it had been then she wouldn’t have left the radio on for Frank to hear).  His wife seems much more upset, and the penny only drops as he leaves – her name is Chris, his name is Charles.

This is a fairly progressive theme for a mainstream late 1960’s drama and it’s handled subtly and well.  It’s largely a two-hander between Alfred Burke and Stephanie Beacham, both of whom give fine performances.  Burke is his normal, excellent, self – excelling in the scene where he frantically tries to bring her round, for example.  Roger Marshall’s script also provides a meaty role for Beacham.  It means she has to be disheveled and distinctly unglamorous for most of the story – but she’s certainly game for this and turns in an appealing performance as a vulnerable girl who’s prone to sudden changes of mood.

There’s two possible endings to this story – a happy and an unhappy one.  Either she makes another suicide attempt and succeeds or she gets on with her life.  It’s slightly surprising that the decision is taken off camera, so it’s basically reported to Frank at the close of the story – but I suppose this allows the focus to be put back on him and although this denies us a final scene between Burke and Beacham, it does bring My Life’s My Own to a decent conclusion.

Public Eye – Paid In Full

paid in full

When one of his colleagues, Arthur Wilson (Maurice Good), has his pay-packet stolen, Frank Marker is the obvious suspect.

The legacy of his criminal record and how it colours other people’s opinions of him is the main thrust of this episode.  Although his criminal past should have been a secret at the firm (only the owner, Kendrick, knew officially) somehow it’s public knowledge – which places him firmly in the frame.

While the police, in the form of Detective Constable Broome (Leslie Lawton), are making enquiries, Frank is totally oblivious to the oncoming storm.  He’s enjoying an afternoon off and has decided to do some shopping.  He passes by an antiques shop and is rather taken with a china figure he sees in the shop window.  It’s absolutely the last thing you would expect Marker to be interested in, and his reason for being drawn to it allow us to explore some previously unknown facets of his character.

He tells the shop’s owner (Susan Richards) that his family had something similar when he was a child.  “Must have been the only thing we had that was worth anything.”  She presumes that it must have been a happy family, since he has an attraction to this object.  Frank tells her, matter-of-factly, that no, they weren’t particularly happy and he’s not able to articulate fully the reason why this figurine appeals to him.  This is a lovely character piece for Marker and it seems to exist in the story purely for this reason – to shine a little light on this incredibly private man.

Frank has a visit from Broome who accuses him of the theft.  Marker vehemently denies it.  “And I’m favourite?  Yes, of course.  Well go on, search the place.  Take the bed apart, take the carpet up.”  The indignity of being visited by the police and having his room searched obviously affects him (he eats little at dinner time).  It’s also interesting to see how Mrs Mortimer and Enright (who, like Marker, is an ex-con lodging with Mrs Mortimer) react.

L-R - William Moore, Leslie Lawton & Tania Trude
L-R – William Moore, Leslie Lawton & Tania Trude

When Broome calls, Frank is out and although Mrs Mortimer agrees he can wait, it’s clear from her tone that she views the police officer with hostility.  Enright turns down Frank’s offer of a drink at the local pub, claiming he’s got some work to do, but it’s clear that as someone coming towards the end of his probation, he simply doesn’t want to get involved with anybody who’s attracted the attention of the police.

Later, Mrs Mortimer brings Frank a whisky in his room.  They then have a heart-to-heart discussion, which is a major step in developing their friendship.  She tells him that she believes he’s innocent and goes on to explain that contrary to Frank’s surmise, she isn’t a widow – her husband is alive and (sadly for her) well.  Frank, as he so often does, is more of a listener than a talker – but it’s another well crafted character-based scene from Roger Marshall.

Next day, Frank has to face the accusing stares of his work colleagues.  He approaches Wilson and tells him that he didn’t steal his money and although Wilson says he believes him, from the tone of his voice it’s apparent there’s still considerable doubt.  Alfred Burke, once again, is on great form here, crackling with anger as he faces down Wilson.  “You lost eighteen quid, I could lose eighteen months.”

He does have some supporters though.  Kendrick’s secretary, Jenny (Tania Trude) believes him and she does help to eventually clear his name.  Wearing a selection of ridiculously short skirts, Trude was a very appealing presence in both this and the previous story.  She only has a handful of television credits, of which Public Eye was her penultimate one.  Where she is or what she’s doing now is something of a mystery, but she’s one of those actresses that managed to light up the screen and leaves you wondering why she didn’t have a much longer career.

Thanks in part to Jenny, the truth eventually comes out.  Wilson’s money was stolen by his friend Starkie (Brian Croucher on fine form as a loud-mouthed yob).  Starkie says he only took it as a joke, in order to teach Wilson a lesson (Starkie’s miffed that Wilson never wants to go out anymore, instead he prefers to stay at home with his family).

This should then be all’s well that ends well, but Kendrick is forced, reluctantly, to let Marker go.  He doesn’t want to he says, but he’s been advised that Frank’s continued presence will be a “disruptive element”.  Again, Burke’s first-class here, railing against the injustice of it all.  But to no avail, and the episode ends with Frank walking out of the yard for the last time.

Public Eye – Divide and Conquer

divide and conquer

Divide and Conquer opens with two bikers, Harry (Terence Rigby) and Frank (Richard O’Callaghan), enjoying their breakfast at a Brighton cafe.  They manage to con the cafe owner (Ken Jones) out of five pounds before making a stealthy escape.

At the same time, Marker is enjoying his breakfast at Mrs Mortimers, prior to starting his new job.  As with his accommodation, it’s been provided by the probation service.  It might not be exactly what he wants to do (he starts off by repairing the sea-wall at a lonely stretch of beach) but as an ex-prisoner he can’t afford to be too choosy.

A visit to the local pub with Enright (Peter Cellier) sparks trouble.  Enright, like Marker, is an ex-con who’s also lodging with Mrs Mortimer.  Unlike Marker, he’s something of a gregarious chap, and he eventually manages to persuade the insular Marker to share a drink with him.  At the pub, Marker sees Harry try to con the publican (played by Norman Mitchell) with the same trick he pulled on the cafe owner.

There’s no reason for Marker to get involved, but he does and it forces Harry and Frank to beat a hasty retreat.  Professionals wouldn’t have attempted to use the same trick more than once in the same area and by the same token, professionals wouldn’t hang about.  But Harry and Frank aren’t professionals and Harry vows to get even with Frank Marker.

Divide and Conquer is another excellent character-driven story from Roger Marshall.  Harry and Frank, whilst occasionally faintly ridiculous, also manage to exude an air of menace.  Terence Rigby was always an idiosyncratic actor.  He could be excellent (for example, as Big Al in Alan Plater’s Beiderbecke stories) but he could also turn in fairly indifferent performances (such as a rather wooden Dr Watson opposite Tom Baker’s Sherlock Holmes in the BBC Classic Serial adaptation of The Hound of the Baskervilles).

This story showcases both his strengths and weaknesses.  At times, Harry is an intimidating figure (when he pulls a knife on Marker after the unsuccessful attempt to con the publican) but it’s fair to say that at times Rigby’s delivery and performance borders on the pantomimic.  O’Callaghan doesn’t speak too much, and therefore is more of a looming presence, but he’s key to the resolution of the story.

The last fifteen minutes are the heart of the episode.  It’s a single sequence, shot on film, which sees Harry and Frank confront Marker whilst he’s at work.  As I’ve said, it’s a lonely spot, so Marker wouldn’t be able to count on anybody coming to his aid.  We’ve previously seen that he can take a beating as well as give one out (for example, Nobody Kills Santa Claus) but the odds here are stacked against him.  If he’s going to walk away unscathed, then it’s words not actions that will save him.

That’s what the title of the story means, as Marker has to play Harry and Frank off against each other.  Harry is keen to attack Marker, Frank isn’t so sure – and Marker is able to slowly plant seeds of doubt in both of their minds.  He tells them what would happen if they carry out the attack.  “That would put you right in the big league.  Send you up for two years, soon as look at you.  If someone says to me, ‘two years inside’ I’d go like that.”  And Marker shakes his hand to indicate how frightened he is.  The more susceptible Frank agrees.

It’s a great three-handed scene and is yet another example of quality acting from Alfred Burke.  At the start there’s an imminent sense of violence, but Marker is able to chip away at their confidence bit by bit, targeting first one and then the other.  Once he’s managed to convince Frank, it makes Harry less of a threat – and eventually both of them decide to cut their losses and drive off.

Jim Goddard’s direction during this lengthy film sequence either favours very low angles, shooting up at the three actors, or tight close-ups.  Both help to keep the focus firmly on the characters and the dialogue, whereas wider shots would have dissipated some of the tension.  It’s a very well-shot section and it’s just a pity that the original film inserts no longer exist (this means that all the film sequences are a little blurry, they certainly aren’t as good as the remastered VT interiors).

Another very solid episode.

Public Eye – Welcome to Brighton?

welcome to brighton

Welcome to Brighton? was the first episode of Public Eye‘s fourth series, originally broadcast in 1969.  It was also the first series to be made by Thames (the previous three were ABC productions).  Sadly, only a handful of episodes from the ABC years exist (a mere five out of forty one).  Given how good these surviving episodes are, it’s a great pity that so few escaped the archive purges – but luckily all of the Thames episodes are present and correct.

The fourth series is noteworthy for several reasons – firstly it’s the shortest series of Public Eye (seven episodes) and secondly it’s the only one where all the episodes were penned by a single writer – in this case, Roger Marshall (who co-created the series with Anthony Marriott).  Having just the one writer allows for a unity of characterisation – which is particularly important, since most of this series revolves around Marker himself.

When a show has an actor as good as Alfred Burke, it’s understandable that the scripts would be tailored to his many strengths.  So series four of Public Eye is concerned with Marker’s journey back into society first and foremost, and we don’t see him back in his old job as an enquiry agent until later in the run.

At the end of the final episode of series three (Cross That Palm When We’ll Come To It) Marker was convicted of handling stolen goods (although he was innocent) and sentenced to two years imprisonment.  Welcome to Brighton? opens with him in his last few days at Ford Open Prison, prior to his release.  There’s plenty of people ready to offer advice, such as fellow con Jakeman (George Sewell) and the Governor (Martin Dempsey).  Both, in their different ways, are somewhat pessimistic about Frank’s chances.

Frank tells Jakeman that he plans to go straight, but Jakeman isn’t convinced – as he believes that the police will constantly be on his back.  “Once you’re in their little black book, you’re there forever.  They’ll be leaning on you, turning you over.”  This is something we see borne out later in the series, though Frank’s done his time and is now a free man, he still has to face the suspicion of the police and others – once a con, always a con, it seems.

The Governor is concerned that Frank is a solitary individual, with no apparent friends or family.  “Have you always been so withdrawn? Or has prison made you like that?” Frank counters that he’s still the same person he’s always been and the Governor suggests he should try changing – “bend with the wind occasionally”.  In the Governor’s opinion, without people look out for him, he’s likely to re-offend again.

Frank’s release day comes and he’s driven down to the railway station in a Black Maria.  This obviously marks him down as a released prisoner and he has to face the curious and accusing stares of his fellow passengers.  The probation service have set him up with a job in Brighton and also accommodation – at a bed-and-breakfast run by a Mrs Mortimer (Pauline Delaney).  Mrs Mortimer takes in the occassional ex-criminal (provided they’re not violent, she says she doesn’t want to wake up in heaven) as something of a civic duty and welcomes Frank into her home.  Although she only has a single scene in this story, during series four Mrs Mortimer will become the closest thing to a friend that we’ve ever seen Frank have.

After checking out his room, Frank goes for a walk around Brighton.  The most notable occurrence is a meeting with Grace (Heather Canning).  She spies him drinking a bottle of whisky by the seafront and offers him the use of her toothmug back at her flat – he readily agrees and it’s clear that there’s more than whisky on offer.  It’s uncharacteristic of Frank to pick up a total stranger, but after two years and more in prison, it’s understandable.  When he goes to the toilet, she steals some money from his wallet and Frank, when he returns, knows instantly that something’s wrong.  Alfred Burke here (as he is throughout) is excellent, as we see the repressed anger bubbling just beneath the surface.  Marker is usually a pretty laid-back character, but circumstances change that.  He nearly strikes her and has no compunction is forcibly removing the money from her clutches.  He does leave the whisky with her though, as a consolation.

If Weclome to Brighton? feels like a series of vignettes, then that’s a fair assessment.  The next concerns Jakeman’s wife, Freda (Anne Ridler).  Jakeman asked Frank to visit her and find out why she hasn’t replied to his letters or visited him recently.  This he does and he tells her that a wife who doesn’t stand by her husband in prison can’t be much good.  This is the signal for Freda to tell Frank in no uncertain terms exactly what she thinks.  “He’s safely banged away in his cell.  Every time responsibility comes up, he’s off, never fails.  Well, you’re all the same.  Half of you run back inside every time some little problem comes up you don’t want to cope with.  You’ll be back there, you see.”  There’s plenty more where that came from and Freda’s speech highlights how a prison sentence affects the people left on the outside just as much as those inside.

So Welcome to Brighton? is not only a series of vignettes, but it’s a series of  vignettes where Frank come off second best (particularly in his encounters with Grace and Freda).  It’s a sign that his new life in Brighton will be far from smooth.