Talking Extramarital Affairs: Between The Sheets With Barbara Windsor

Affairs can be so destructive. But what’s a girl to do when a man wears her down? In the case of Barbara Windsor she was never going to hold out for long.

She’d already succumbed to the charms of George Best:

‘There was this vision, this absolute vision. In the Sixties he was so beautiful. Anyway, in the bar afterwards he came over to me and I said, “Look, don’t waste your time with me, darling. You’ve got all these lovely ladies after you. And he said, “Well, when do I ever get to talk to somebody like you?” Well, that did it. That was it. A magic moment. It was great, he was fabulous.’

But that wasn’t the affair we are eluding to here. Nor was Babs’ dalliance with a Bee Gee. She once had a ‘magic moment’ with Maurice Gibb:

‘I said to him, “Where would you like to go? My friend said we could go for coffee? And he said: “Look Bar, let’s get it over and done with, let’s go to bed”. Because he knew that he wasn’t giving it on stage, so we went and had a little moment. It was lovely.’

No, the affair on most people’s lips was the one between Barbara Windsor and her fellow Carry On, Sid James.

He expected they’d ‘just do it’ and that would be that. But things turned out differently.

“I cared deeply for him. I didn't at first, he was just my leading man, who liked me,” recalls Barbara.

But things got a little deep and more that just a little complicated. The pair’s union became common knowledge, not least on the Carry On set.

Kenneth Williams didn’t like it that’s for sure. The woman he adored shacking up with the man he had little time for. Not good.

Babs admits that she had five abortions, the first three before the age of 21 and the last when she was 42. She also believes that physically she’s an acquired taste:

‘I’ll tell you about men. They either really want to give me one – I’ve had them say, “Ooh, I could really give you one” – or [they say]: ‘No, you don’t do anything for me”.’

No, extramarital affairs are good for tittle-tattle but bad for the health:

‘I couldn’t have survived my depression without my current man,' admits Babs. It’s a relationship that’s lasted 26 years.

A Write Carry On (Wholepoint Publications)

For more info and to purchase A Write Carry On CLICK HERE.


 

The Dark Side Of The 'Carry On' Funny Man

One of this country’s true comedy writing geniuses, Talbot ‘Tolly’ Rothwell, spoke little about his time in the Palestine Police Force, except, that is, for one sunny mid-summer’s day.

It might have been the heat that brought the outpouring of information, or then again it may have been the circumstances. After all, unbeknown to me, he’d just signed-off his very last Carry On script.

As we sat in his garden, I noted Tolly didn’t look well. Not just strained, but unwell. His usual spark seemed absent. His eyes, which always sparkled and engaged, seemed to be roaming in search of nothing in particular. It was then, as a lone siren wailed in the distance, that he embarked on a journey through his little known past.

He told me that there was a saying in the Palestine Police Old Comrades Association: "There is no promotion after Jerusalem." He said he adhered to the saying, but admitted to finding the training tougher than he’d expected.

He was young and not used to having to jump when someone barked for him to do so. He’d signed-up on a late-summer’s wet Wednesday, and over a year later he was still in training and only just nearing the end of his compulsory attachment to the mobile unit.

Tolly then smiled as he recalled that it hadn’t taken long for him to ingratiate himself into the very separate communities of the stallholders and shopkeepers from the city’s Moslem, Jewish and Christian Quarters. He said his natural way of being courteous and respectful had made him feel welcomed and seemingly above suspicion.

But one thing he didn’t’ take to was the chilly climate of the uplands of Jerusalem. He much preferred the more dependable summer and autumn seasons to be enjoyed in Tel Aviv.

Whilst on routine company patrols and manoeuvres Tolly recalled how he was a witness to the inner-workings and social-struggles of local families. Some mothers were raising as many as eight or nine children on an income of what Tolly classed as a pittance.

Initially it had taken him a while to gain the families’ trust. On spying Tolly’s uniform the children had been taught to run and hide, while their mothers would close shut their front doors and wait for ‘the law’ to pass.

But as he befriended their fathers and husbands in the workplace, it soon spread back to the families that Talbot ‘Tolly’ Rothwell was an honourable man, and as such, he was, in time, to become an easily tolerated part of the fabric of the local community.

That didn’t stop what came next. January 13^th 1939 was set to be a pretty average day on tour of duty for Tolly. But it was to end in near death and a realisation that life was short and as such opportunities should be grabbed with both hands and exploited to the full.

To find out what happened on that fateful day, look out for:

A Write Carry On (Wholepoint Publications)

 

Contact me at editor@brighton.co.uk