Men without Women Porridge

'Norman Stanley Fletcher, you have pleaded guilty to the charges brought by this court.

'You are an habitual criminal who accepts arrest as an occupational hazard.

'Presumably, you accept imprisonment in the same manner.

'I feel constrained to commit you to the maximum term for these offences.

'You will go to prison for five years.'

-Er...Fletch?

-I'm thinking. Naff off.

Thinking?

Yeah, thinking.

I realise that to you and some of the blokes that's an alien pastime,

but those of us who were endowed with a bit of grey matter,

preserve our identity and sanity by thinking.

-But WHAT are you thinking?

-I'm thinking, "Why don't this bloke Warren naff off and leave me alone?"

Look, Fletch, I realise you're a man of...

-Intellect?

-Intellect! Yeah.

-And erudition?

If you say so. That's why I wanted a word.

-I got this letter, see?

-Oh, yeah.

-From a woman, I'd say.

-How can you tell?

-The handwriting. It's...

It's the female handwriting.

Judging by the perfume, I'd say it was a woman of little sophistication or class.

That's right. It's from the wife.

-Sorry. I didn't mean to infer...

-You're clever. That's why I wanted your help.

I see! Advice, is it? Advice to the lovelorn?

You want me to assess the situation and compose an appropriate response?

It's simpler than that. I just wanted you to read it to me.

This letter of Warren's is typical.

It's a classic wives' letter when you've been inside between 8 to 12 months.

-They make these marital vows but you've got to be around to ensure they do love, honour and obey.

-Yeah.

You see, they get these restless urges and, chances are, they weaken and get a bit naughty.

-I'll kill her! I'll throttle her!

-Yes. That is one method.

But we are looking for something a bit more constructive.

-Besides, you're locked up.

-It's visiting day next week.

But if you killed her on visiting day, you'd lose half your remission.

I'm just saying. He's impulsive. I'm just saying!

Leave off, Warren. Fletch knows.

-Thank you, Tolly. Now, where was I?

-Getting to the naughty bit.

-Oh, yes.

Having got naughty, they get guilty.

In my reply I've sought to achieve subtlety with strength, see?

An outward display of affection, but carrying a hint of menace.

"My darling, I realise these are difficult times for you.

"You are women without men, with all your attendant frustrations..." Nice phrase, that.

-Well chosen.

-I got it out of Reader's Digest.

"I realise it is a lot to ask to ask you to wait for me,

"but I will be upset, dearest one, if I hear about you having a nibble of something as how you shouldn't.

"I have friends on the outside, who have friends, who have friends,

"so any hanky-panky will receive swift and merciless retribution..."

"I hope the weather is fine and you are feeling well in yourself..."

Subtlety with strength. I told you, Fletch knows.

My wife's sister lives in Sidcup.

Sometimes we stay there or drop in for a cuppa after going to the coast.

Anyhow, once when we was there, and while my wife was upstairs powdering her nose -

prior to going to see Paint Your Wagon by the Sidcup Operatic...

..her sister touched me.

Where? Where?

-In the kitchen.

-In the kitchen!

She got very heated. Had me pressed up against the Aga.

I should think YOUR Aga got a bit heated an' all, didn't it?

She was saying how she always fancied me, she knew it was wrong - being the wife's sister -

but she could not no longer control her true feelings.

I said, "Now listen, Gwendolyn..."

That's her name, see, Gwendolyn.

"Listen, Gwendolyn, this is no way to behave. It's not right or decent and it must never happen again."

-Nothing happened.

-She got a lecture.

No, that wasn't until an hour after,

when we was getting out of bed!

What point are you trying to raise, Einstein? He's in a different timescale!

His head's about 20 minutes slow!

Copy out these letters in your own handwriting and send them off so they read them before visiting day.

Put the name of your loved one at the top like "My beloved Iris".

"Darling Norma..." "Dearest Trevor."

I've no evidence that my Iris has strayed from the straight and narrow.

Haven't you? Well, send it anyway.

-A stitch in time saves a hole in your trousers.

-I'll post it.

-No point in leaving it late.

-BELL

Oi, oi, oi! Haven't we forgotten something?

Fair's fair. Cough up, lads.

-You've got no problems on this score, Fletch? Marriage?

-Nah.

I've been married longer than you blokes.

Oh, dear.

-Doesn't she get upset, you going inside all the time?

-I don't!

You are consistent. She's got a house and three kids. I don't know how she does it.

It's a bit hard for her at times.

She had to build a new coal bunker recently. That's no job for a woman.

-She had to mix the cement?

-No, her mother came over and did that.

Come on, lads. Come on, lads. Get yourselves off. Good night.

Fletcher, I trust you've employed your time usefully tonight.

Just giving the lads the benefit of my experience.

I've heard your opinion is sought after in this prison.

The Welfare Officer says he's running out of customers.

Welfare Officers are a bit like the padre really... they can't be trusted.

I think you're being a bit harsh on a well-meaning body of people.

They are well-meaning, but the lads bring me their problems cos I speak their language.

How are things with your old lady?

Oh, well... Difficult.

They've been better since we had that chat, but they could be easier.

She's not easy to live with.

No. So a lot of people have told me.

Is it still the postman?

God forbid! He's in the sorting office in Carlisle now.

They sorted him out then, eh?

-Sorted him out!

-Pardon?

-Sorry. I mustn't joke at your expense.

I'm afraid I must ask you to...

Yes. Time I went.

You know, Fletcher. This is the part of the job I hate -

locking men up, caging them in.

Yeah, it is a pity. Just when the good telly's starting.

All we see is Nationwide. What's the use of that when you're in here?

I've never got used to bolting these doors, you know.

I think of you locked in these little cells...

..and I think of me going out of here and going home to my little house...

..and my wife, who's waiting for me.

What's the matter, Mr Barrowclough?

I sometimes wish I was in here with you lot!

MACKAY: Come on, Johnson. Get a move on!

Spencer, get your hair cut. Did you hear that? Get your hair cut today!

-Fletch.

-Hello, Warren.

-Will you do the honours?

-Read it out to you?

-Yeah.

-From the wife, is it?

-Yeah. I'd know her perfume anywhere.

-Yeah. It's very distinctive.

I should think this kills 99% of household germs!

-Shall I tell her to change it?

-No. You're safe from other men while she wears that!

-Ready?

-Yeah.

-"My dearest Bunny..." Bunny?

-Bunny Warren.

-Oh, yeah. Yeah. That's good, isn't it? Bunny Warren.

"Thanks for your letter, but you must put these silly doubts out of your mind.

"I spend nights watching the box on which is placed your picture which I cut out of the Manchester News.

"It is the one of you resisting arrest, but I have cut off the two policemen.

"I left the Alsatian on as I know how fond you are of animals.

"I did go out on Sunday, but only to see your mother who had to go into Salford again with her feet."

-How does she usually go in? On her hands and knees?

-She means she's had to go back to the chiropodist.

-She's always had these feet, you see.

-Has she? The same ones, you mean?

"I am coming up on visiting day to put your mind at rest.

"I'll get Saturday morning off.

"I miss you and think of you when you were at home and you used to take my..."

Used to what?

Well, it's a bit personal, the next bit, know what I mean.

I don't think I should read it out loud in front of me.

It's sort of...

-What does she say?

-It's intimate. You read it... Oh, you can't read.

How can I say it...?

The gist of it is...she misses your, er...

Er... No, no...

No, put it another way...

..which you obviously did!

What she's saying is she wishes that you were at home providing...

..for her.

Oh. Oh, good. Anything else?

Anything else would be a bit of an anti-climax!

All she says is, "I wish you were here. I must close now and get on my lover..."

No. "I must close now and get on, my lover!

"See you Saturday, Elaine."

She's a good girl, my Elaine. No problems there, eh?

That's a very nice letter. It's very heartfelt.

-She's coming on Saturday?

-Yeah. So is Hislop's missus. And Tolly's wife.

-Is your old lady coming?

-Yes, she'll be here.

-Have you had a letter?

-No, I ain't, actually. But she'll be here.

-I think Lukewarm's fella's coming up as well.

-Is he? Lukewarm's got a different problem from you lot.

It's his Trevor who's insecure... There's 600 men in this prison!

You worry about what your wives are up to on the outside, he's worried about what Lukewarm's up to inside!

Morning, Mr Mackay. Thanks again, mate. See you.

Thanks? What was all that about?

That was a bit of friendly advice, Mr Mackay.

On matters of the heart. Between him and me.

Is it true that this is the office of Slade Prison's Miss Lonelyhearts?

-Is that why you're here then?

-I have no problems of that nature!

Come on, Mr Mackay. All screws, er...prison officers have problems in that area.

We're similar. Neither of us can be sure what our wives are getting up to. No difference.

There is a major difference.

YOUR wives are criminals' wives. They belong to the criminal class with its trait of promiscuity.

OUR wives are wives of uniformed men, used to a life of service and duty, decency and moral fibre.

-My house... My house reflects my wife.

-Big, is it?

-Spotless.

When I get home my uniform has been cleaned and pressed -

buttons gleaming, trousers with sharp creases.

That just proves your old lady's having it away with a dry cleaner!

I won't rise to your bait. It's obvious that your cynicism derives from bitter personal experience.

Nothing wrong with my marriage. Me and my missus get on very well.

-You've spent half your life in prison!

-Perhaps absence makes the heart grow fonder.

I reckon your old lady would like a rest from cleaning and pressing.

My wife has no desire other than to be by my side.

Before Prison Service, I was in the army. I was a drill sergeant in the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders.

I'd never have guessed(!)

I was posted to far-flung places, but Marie would always be with me.

17 years of domestic contentment.

Drill sergeant, was it?

That's right, Fletcher. Drill sergeant.

Do everything by numbers, do you?

I refuse to rise to your bait, Fletcher, and it's naive of you to assume that I would.

Was it numbers with your old lady?

-IMITATING MACKAY:

-Marie, I'm about to make passionate love to you. Stand by your bed!

Wait for it! Knickers down, two three!

This place couldn't be much further!

I had to be at Euston by 8am and there was no buffet on the train.

There never is. Or only yesterday's sausage rolls.

It's taken me all morning to get here from Bolton.

I changed at Manchester and Carlisle.

Before, it was only a bus ride.

It's us that suffer, chuck.

No money, a family, and no man about the house.

He thinks I HAVE got a man about the house.

I've had to come all the way from Kent. I got a letter.

- Me too. - What a nerve. Listen to this.

"I realise, my love, it is a lot to ask to ask you to wait for me.

"But I will be upset if you have a nibble of something you shouldn't."

'Ere, look at this. It's the same!

The cheeky devils!

HORN TOOTS

ALL SHOUT TOGETHER There she is! I can see her!

Don't you want a look, Fletch?

I'll see her soon. I know what she looks like.

Shut up. Let's have some order. Sit down.

It did the trick. Kent's a long way.

Trevor's come from Southport. He's a watch repairer.

-I did a watch repairers once.

-Now you're doing TIME for it!

-Did you get that, Mr Barrowclough?

-Very funny. It's nice to see you in high spirits.

-I can smell Elaine's perfume.

-That's the sheep dip from the prison farm!

Hello, darling!

Ingrid!

Hello, Dad.

Where's your mother?

I said, "Where's your mother?"

-She couldn't come, Dad.

-Is she ill?

No. She...

She what?

She's...found another man, Dad.

Morose, you say, Mr Barrowclough?

Yes, sir. Here's the Welfare Officer's report.

He feels that psychologically Fletcher is compensating for the trauma...

Don't spout university claptrap at me! What does young Gillespie know?

These lads come here with no experience.

Not two minutes ago they were in rag parades throwing bags of flour at old ladies!

Sir, I think you're being a bit harsh on a very well-meaning body of men.

Gillespie has worked in the field.

In Welwyn Garden City! Hardly a walk on the wild side!

What do you want? Compassionate parole?

-Just 48 hours, so he can sort his problems out. He's been married 24 years.

-All right. Wheel him in.

Fletcher.

Fletcher, you've had this domestic, er... Would "crisis" be too strong a word?

-My wife's gone. Crisis is a good word.

-She hasn't left yet.

-She will.

-What about the other man?

-He's a heating engineer.

We were having central heating put in, so he was around a lot...

Younger man, bit of patter, new Ford Capri - mustard-yellow, with wing mirrors.

-Younger man, eh?

-Yeah, with wing mirrors - bound to turn a woman's head.

It's not just infatuation?

Not according to my eldest, Ingrid. They're planning a new life in Hemel Hempstead.

I pass Hemel Hempstead on the train. It looks quite nice there.

The Welfare Officer thinks compassionate parole might help.

You mean "get out", like?

-Not so much "get out" as "go out".

-Oh.

-48 hours only.

Report to the police, but then the weekend is yours.

-I'd get a decent Sunday lunch!

-If that's your attitude...

I'm sorry, sir. My flippancy was just masking my deep wounds.

If you think I should go for the sake of my marriage, and you're trusting me...

I wonder if Spurs are playing at home?

You know where I live. You don't have to walk me home!

I don't mind. A breath of fresh air.

I'm seeing my old lady about personal matters. That's why I'm on parole.

That's what concerns me. I want you to greet your wife in a kind manner.

-I don't want you forcing her head through the mangle!

-We haven't got a mangle!

We've got a washing machine though!

-Hello, Dad.

-Hello, Ingrid.

-Is your mother in there?

-Yeah.

-You know Sergeant Norris, don't you?

-I met him in court.

-I shan't stay a minute.

Isobel.

Norman.

I got this compassionate parole, see?

-So they told us.

-Yeah, well...

You don't need to stay, Sergeant. I thought...

There's no worries there, so if you'll excuse us...

Go on, Sarge. Leave us alone, eh?

I hope everything, er... Well, you know what I mean.

DOOR SLAMS

Hello, Norman.

Hello, darling.

-It worked then!

-Like a flaming charm!

-It worked in Maidstone, I knew it would again!

-Like a flaming charm!

"She's found another man, Dad"!

-Go and fetch your dad's slippers.

-Don't hurry, we've got a lot to make up.

-It's like when I was a kid! Give us some money, I'll go to the pictures.

-Good idea.

Hang on, that's how your little brother was born!

You'll have to move, love.

It won't take long to get to Euston on a Sunday.

I've got you apples, bananas and tangerines. What a price! But fruit's good for your complexion.

You'll have to get shaved. Norris will be here soon.

I suppose so.

Oh, it's been lovely having you, Norman.

It's done me a power of good, I can tell you. Seeing the kids and everything.

Colour telly, home cooking, Spurs winning at home.

Soft lavatory paper.

It's all here when you come out. Just bide your time.

I'm not going back inside after this stretch.

-You've said that before!

-I mean it this time.

There's a load of kids in there. Talk about a generation gap. I'm a bleeding father figure!

My life's been a mug's game really.

Seeing you and seeing the kids this weekend...realising I'm missing them growing up...

All the things this weekend's given me.

The best things in life ain't free, but the best thing in life is being free.

Oh, Norman, you say such lovely things. What made you think of that?

Randolph Scott said it before you came in!

HORN TOOTS

Are you all right, Fletch?

What?

Me and the lads just wanted to say how sorry we are.

Sorry, Fletch. Sorry, Fletch.

I know we laughed, but the fact that you're not so clever after all just makes you human, like us.

Oh, yeah?

Let me ask you something, Bunny. What did you do this weekend?

-What?

-You did exactly the same as last weekend.

You had a cold shower, cleaned your shoes, washed your vest, had your dinner, had another cold shower,

and lay on your bunk picking your nose.

Some of us was in the pub,

or eating roast beef,

or watching Spurs win at home,

or having a sing-song with friends and relatives.

Or lying in a big crisp bed with their big crisp old lady.

Have a banana.

MACKAY: Let's be having you! Back to your cells.

Hurry along, Warren.

I can see a difference in Fletcher. I think being sent home has made him realise what he's missing.

He realises he's been in a mug's game.

He's had the cockiness knocked out of him.

We've seen the last of his lairy insolence.

You can't beat the system, Mr Barrowclough.

Sorry.