I was proud of my unbranded 49cc moped. It sat in the
family driveway, dripping petrol and oil fuel mixture and rust. On a whim and a prayer I rose one Saturday morning and decided that I was now competent enough to dispense with endless rides around local streets and cut a path across the South Downs and pay a visit to the Carry On scriptwriter, and firm family friend, Talbot 'Tolly' Rothwell.
Following a hearty breakfast and quick safety check of
the moped, it was chocks away - followed by a frantic pedal - and the engine
spluttered into some semblance of life.
I arrived without warning and was greeted by Tolly as
though he'd been waiting for me all my life.
He invited me to his kitchen and we sat and chatted
over a cup of tea. He seemed nervy and a little distracted.
The root of his unease was a looming deadline for submission
of a Carry On script. It was the script that was to be his last in the series.
Tolly's health had been failing. Recently he'd found
himself sat in front of his typewriter keyboard, unable to recognise the workings of its qwerty layout.
The clock was ticking and Tolly and was seeing his professional
life passing before his eyes.
He parted with the shocking news that he was having to
dictate the script to his daughter so that even though the deadline had been
missed, at least the it would eventually make it on to the desk of Carry On
producer, Peter Rogers.
To read the full account of Tolly's breakdown and the final days of his Carry On scriptwriting career .. buy a copy of A Write Carry On .. Just CLICK HERE
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