Original subtitles

I'm H -A -P -P -Y.

I'm H -A -P -P -Y.

I know I am, I'm sure I am.

I'm H -A -P -P -Y.

I know I am, I'm sure I am. He's H -A -P -P -Y.

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

Oh, dear.

What's the matter now, Figgis? Oh, the heartbreak in these letters. No wonder

they call it the agony column.

Poor, worried of Grimsby. She's got problems.

Yes, well, I'd be worried if I lived in Grimsby.

Don't worry, mate.

My husband's dolled himself up and staying out all night. Listen to this.

He has taken to combing his hair across the bald spot at the top of his head and

drenching himself in aftershave.

When I ask him where he's going, he says he's joined the Freemasons and is sworn

to secrecy.

Do you think I have grounds for suspicion?

Should I ask him to make a clean breast of it?

He'll be the left one if he's a Freemason.

Shut up, Norman. Let's see what Clare Butterfield has to say.

Clare Butterfield? What does she know about emotional problems?

She should stay at home and mind her knitting, interfering old busybody.

On the contrary, Archie. Clare Butterfield is the queen of the problem

blending wit and homely wisdom in a way that the humble housewife can

understand.

Yes, she'll get to the heart of the matter.

Let's see.

Dear Worried.

There could be a simple explanation.

Of course there's a simple explanation. He's having it away.

Do you mind?

Do not confront him with your suspicions. You may drop a gentle hint

not well, but first you must ask yourself, why do you have these fears?

she's getting to grips with it, you see. What she's trying to say is, look to

yourself, worried of Grimsby. Are you neglecting your appearance?

She'll be advised to get out the old black shift on nighty next, you'll see.

Yes, yes, I thought so. You see, she's got to put romance back in her marriage.

He's probably reached the male menopause.

You should know something about that, Archie. What do you think?

Vigis, I'm not interested in these petty marital problems. You seem to have

forgotten that I'm a bachelor.

Yes, but is that through choice, Archie? Of course it was through choice. I

could have had any woman that I wanted.

I chose to remain single, and when I look at the way that certain married men

conduct themselves, I'm glad I did.

Well, don't look at me like that. I know I'm not perfect.

Claire Butterfield has a phrase for it.

I've reached my dangerous years.

You have when your wife catches you.

Remember when she found you with that woman from Gateshead? You were certainly

in danger that day. Yes, well, she did lose her temper a bit, but she didn't

realise that was my cry for help.

Yes, we all heard you crying for help. All right, at least it made her more

understanding. We needed that moment of drama.

It's what Claire Butterfield calls a catharsis.

Lisa's put some life back into our marriage.

Edie writes quite often these days. So does the woman from Gateshead.

You don't understand.

Claire Butterfield would have understood. She knows the ways of the

You should write to her, Archie. She's very good on loneliness.

I'm not lonely, Figgis. And if I were, I wouldn't write to Claire Butterfield.

I haven't got any problems. Well, of course you haven't, no more than any man

your age. I suppose it's a question of declining powers, that's all.

Clare Butterfield's very good on declining powers. Will you shut up about

Butterfield? And there's nothing wrong with my powers, I can assure you. What

wrong with you, Archie? What?

Well, you don't seem to have much success with women, do you?

What was that? Did I hear correctly?

Well, I'm worried about you.

Oh, shy and troubled of Watford is worried about me, is he?

Trying to tell me, Archie Glover, that I don't have success with women?

Ridiculous. I am extremely popular with women. Then why don't you get any

visitors? Because I prefer them to write.

Then why don't you get any letters? Of course I get letters.

Hello, everyone. Here is the post.

Anything for me, Gupta?

Afraid not, my dear Glover. Nothing again for you today.

Very sorry.

But never mind. One day I'll bring you a letter, even if I have to write it

myself. What good's that? He can't read Urdu. That's all right, Gupta. You've

probably been held up somewhere.

Two for you today, I guess. Oh, yes, one for me and... Yes, well, I think I'll

keep that one for later.

Well, I think it's disgusting.

A man should be able to manage with one woman at a time. That's why you're

wrong, Archie. Man is by his very nature polygamous. You ask up to here.

Don't ask me. I can't even get one.

No, but most religions allow for more than one wife. One for the cooking, one

for the ironing, and one for the other. Well, I don't agree with it. Well, of

course you don't. Archie would settle for one and do the ironing himself.

Well, I'm different, I can't help it if women are attracted to me. Excuse me,

Figgis, I've had enough of your boasting for one day.

Ah, Glover, I'd like to be well with you.

Now look what you've done.

Archie! What's the matter with Glover these days?

Oh, you've noticed too, have you, Doctor? He seems to have lost the will

better. He's certainly not responding to treatment. He won't.

He's suffering from a sickness no drugs can cure.

As old as time itself.

No, we've tested him for that, figures.

I mean, he's not getting his share.

His share of what, figures? His share of female companionship. Archie needs the

admiration of a woman like a flower needs the sun and the rain.

I see.

I mean, he's wilting, figures.

Very aptly put, Doctor.

I don't understand figures. As long as they be stars of female company, they're

the nurses.

Oh, well, that's not the same thing.

Familiarity breeds contempt.

Especially when you've seen somebody before they've taken their curlers out

the morning.

Good heavens, figures, the nurses don't start the day like that. No, but Archie

does.

He's certainly lost all mystique as far as they're concerned.

What he needs is a little romance in his life.

That's the trouble with the National Health Service.

There's no romance.

Ooh. I don't think we want anything there throughout here, figures.

Never know where it might lead.

Oh, come on, Doctor, there's no arm in it. Even in prison, you're allowed to

touch hands through the bars.

Well, I suppose I could ask one of the ladies from the League of Friends to

visit him. Oh, not one of them old boilers.

Figgy, there are decent, hard -working women who give all their valuable time

this hospital without remuneration.

So just you show some respect for the old boilers.

And I hope Glover will do the same. You know, I don't like his attitude to

women. Neither do they. That's the trouble.

I was thinking of writing to Clare Butterfield about it. What?

Nothing of bringing Clare Butterfield in. What would Glover say? He won't

I was thinking of using a nom de plume. What about Lonely of Ward 3?

Lonely of Ward 3, figures. If Glover found out, you'd end up as mutilated of

intensive care.

Now, give me that paper before you get yourself in trouble.

I was only trying to help. What right have you got to interfere, figures? As

as I can gather, your own private life is not exactly straightforward.

It's a ghastly mess.

So just you stay out of this and leave it to the experts.

You're quite right, Doctor.

I'll leave it to the experts.

Dear Claire Buckley.

Norman, have you seen Glover?

He's in the day room, writing a few letters. Trouble is, no -one ever

them. It's very sad.

Yes, he must be desperate. He's even started a correspondence with the double

-glazing people.

I wondered if this would help.

I saw it in the small ads.

Lonely heart? No, you'd never get Archie to admit he's a lonely heart. Why not?

He seems very sensible. All he has to do is advertise, giving his likes and

dislikes. See here.

Unattached man, rather hairy, wants a woman to share expenses and a trip to

Africa. Who's going to answer that, rather hairy? It could be a gorilla.

All right, what about bottomed man, seeks a suitable lady, also likes

egg and fishnet type.

Oh, you wouldn't get Archie involved in anything like this. He's too proud. I

mean, look, Goopty. Sugar Daddy needs enormously plump Jelly Baby. Who put a

thing like that in?

I did.

Oh. Well, you won't get Archie to do it. You never know until you ask him,

Norman.

I won't. if this might interest you, Archie.

A quiet word about hair transplants. Are you trying to be funny, Norman?

No, no. Here, in the personal section.

Lonely hearts? My God!

Do you think I descend that far? I've got some pride left.

I mean, look at the sort of people who advertise.

Philosophy graduate 30, fun -loving and liberated sun worshipper, seeks

companionship. I bet he does a little pervert.

What sort of woman's going to reply to that sort of thing? Marriage, not out of

the question, but would prefer a free -wheeling relationship with an

male of the same age.

Good Lord, it's from a woman.

What about her, Archie? She sounds fairly lively.

Certainly not, Norman. When the day comes that Archie Glover has to pay for

or write for it, he'll retire to his bed with a glass of hemlock. Now, just let

me get on with my correspondence.

Who is it this time, Archie? Double glazing or loft insulation?

Oh, get out and leave me alone!

Liberated sun worshipper.

They've printed it. It's in the paper. What is? Artie's letter. I didn't know

Artie'd written a letter. No, well, he didn't actually write it. I did, on his

behalf. I wrote to Claire Butterfield and she's replied in print.

What? Listen, dear Lonely.

No? I was moved by your sad letter and sympathised with your lonely plight in a

hospital ward. But honestly, there was an attitude in your letter that made me

want to give you a good shaking. I knew she'd want to give him a good shaking.

Do I detect a little vanity in your make -up? Oh, does she?

Try and achieve a little humility in your relationships.

Don't expect women to fall under your spell instantly.

There must be mutual respect and understanding.

Oh, she's very good, isn't she?

It's all there in a nutshell.

Let me see.

The feeling that you are bestowing favours on the women you meet is bound

affront them. The experiences you relate are sad, but I do feel that some of the

thought lies with you. Love is like a growing plant.

Nurture it, gently.

In the meantime, I'm sending you the address of a respectable agency where

you'll be able to contact a woman of similar background and interests.

Not bad, is it?

Not bad?

He'll murder you, Fig. No, he won't. That's why I insisted on a non -diploma

publication.

It keeps it confidential.

Confidential. You have just discussed his personal affairs in front of three

million readers. He'll murder you, Fig.

Will you thank me for it later? This advice is worth its weight in gold.

And what are you going to do with it?

Well, I thought I'd just leave it for him to see.

Let him read it for himself.

Let it sink in gently.

After all, it's in his own best interests.

He'll murder you, Fig. I wish you'd stop saying that.

Just thought I'd bring the post round this morning. One for you, Figgis.

One for you, Norman.

Ah, and one for me.

Hmm, scented backwards slave.

Obviously from a woman. Well done, Archie.

Yes, the post seems to be getting through all right now.

I think I'll just read this at the table. I hate people looking over my

shoulder.

Yes, Figgith? I just wondered if you'd seen the old agony column this morning,

Archie. There's a very interesting letter. Figgith, I have a letter of my

read. Why should I be interested in these poor lost souls?

It's about us, Little.

What? Well... Dear Clare Butterfield, I am a patient in hospital and

feeling very alone.

I long for female companionship but always seem to fail dismally with the

opposite sex.

I am not unattractive. In fact, many would say I am good -looking. I have

considerable charm and an air of breeding and refinement that most people

give their right arms for.

Other patients in the ward, quite ordinary types, seem to attract all the

attention.

Have standards changed so much? Can you be too witty and sophisticated?

Please help me. I have so much to offer.

And I cannot endure many more hours of this agonising loneliness.

Aren't you going to read the reply then, Archie? Certainly not, Fig. It sounds

like a bit of a crank to me.

Too full of arrogance and self -pity. If he were on this ward, I'd give him a

good shaking.

You're looking great, Archie. The years have just fallen away.

Yes, to come up smiling after so many years of suffering takes a special

of courage.

I think she'll be impressed.

Who is it, Archie? Who's coming?

Well, Norman, I've got a confession to make. Promise me you won't tell figures.

No, of course not.

It's the liberated sun worshipper.

The one who advertised.

I wrote and she replied.

She's a swinger, Norman.

Liberated, emancipated, fun -loving.

Do you think I ought to draw the curtains round a little more?

Now, Archie, you mustn't get overexcited. Just take things easy.

No, don't worry, Norman. I shall be very laid back. After all, she is a student

of philosophy.

Do you know anything about existentialism?

Well, it's the anti -intellectualist philosophy of life, holding that man is

free and responsible based on the assumption that reality as an existence

only be lived and never be the object of thought.

That's very good, Archie.

Well, I have been doing a little reading. I want to make the right

You know what these intellectual birds are like? Pot -smoking, no hang -ups.

They're acting like knives!

Do you think you could go and keep a lookout for her, Norman? She'll probably

in a long dress, beads and open -toed sandals. Certainly, Archie.

What's her name? Well, she didn't give her name. She just signed herself sexy.

Well, I'll go and look out for her. Now, you just try and relax.

Oh, don't worry, Norman. That's one thing about philosophy. It does teach

relax.

Now...

Ah, Mrs. Roper -Jones.

You wanted to see me, Mr. Thorpe. Yes, do sit, darling.

I wonder if you'd have a word with a patient of mine. His name's Glover,

surgical. Poor devil's just lost all the will to go on. Oh, of course, I'll see

what I can do. I usually find I can liven them up a little.

I'm sure you do, Mrs. Roper -Jones.

And I don't think you'll find him very good company at the moment. He's very

low. Oh, so is that poor man in geriatrics.

He'd lost all interest in life until I persuaded him to build some halls out of

matchsticks. Now he's a changed man.

Yes, I've got some rather bad news there.

It burned down last night.

Oh, dear.

I implored him not to use live matches.

I trust it didn't burn down with him before.

No, just his eyebrows.

Still, it's the first time we've seen him out of bed for some time.

At least it did create an interest.

Has Mr Glover any interest?

I think he's got one or two.

I believe he's very interested in nature.

Well, that's something.

Yes, but I think his main problem at the moment is his grim, crippling

loneliness. It's reduced him to a mere shell. So I thought, perhaps, that the

sound of a woman's voice might just turn this crusty old bachelor into a human

being again.

Well, I'll certainly do my best.

I do find that the men miss the feminine touch, that cool hand on the brow.

Don't touch him, Mrs. Remington.

He's feeling rather depraved.

Deprived.

What do you mean?

I'm afraid so.

So if you could just go to a friendly chat, a little verbal flirtation,

more. You leave it to me, Mr. Thorpe. Oh, and he's extremely proud, so please

don't let him know that I sent you. Of course.

I'll be discreet.

The question is, will he?

Oh, excuse me.

Could you tell me where I could find Mick the Glover?

Uh, yes.

He's in here in the end bed.

Thank you.

Mr Glover.

Hello, sexy.

Come and sit down.

Now, Mr Glover. He's called me Archie.

Archie? And what's your name? I can't call you sexy all the time.

It's Helen. Helen, I like it. It's got the right vibes.

Sit down and let's communicate.

Would you like a cigarette?

Only... Ordinary ones, I'm afraid. They tend to keep an eye on you in here. Not

that I couldn't do with something stronger.

This place is really bugging me.

So I understand.

Have you tried raffia?

Raffia?

Is that something new?

Take your mind off things.

Oh, don't worry. When I want to do that, I always meditate.

After all, what is it all about? Are you here? Am I here? Is anybody here?

Or are we all just figments of our imagination?

Well, I'm certainly here. I came on the 47 bus.

You're cool. I like that.

As you can see, I'm very laid back.

Oh, can I plump your pillows up for you? Oh, thank you.

Oh, stay close, Helen.

I must have more physical contact.

Oh, your perfume is blowing my mind. Oh, it's only Devon Violet.

I'm sure we can establish a freewheeling relationship, but how does marriage

grab you? Would you like to give it a whirl? Well, actually, I'm married

already. Oh, Helen, you're a sly one. Didn't work out, eh?

Never mind.

Look, I know you're liberated and emancipated, but do you think you could

the curtains round a little more?

Well, if you insist.

Yes? I'm looking for Mr Glover. Oh, I'm afraid he's got someone with him at the

moment. Oh, I'll wait.

Perhaps you could tell him that Claire Butterfield is here to see him.

Claire Butterfield? Good Lord. Just wait here, will you? I'll, um... I'll fetch

someone, good Lord.

Oh!

Oh! I've never been so insulted in my life.

No wonder you don't get any visitors.

Really.

Yes? I really could give you a good shaking.

I beg your pardon?

This attitude is not going to get you anywhere.

Isn't it?

Of course, I could tell there was something radically wrong from your

My letter?

So it was you.

Oh, sit down. I'm sorry about that. That was a misunderstanding.

It certainly was. I was very annoyed.

You mean you were jealous?

Mr. Glover, you must get over this attitude that you're irresistible.

call me Archie.

Very well, Archie.

You and I are going to have a serious talk. Oh, good.

Just draw the curtains round, would you?

Hello.

I'm looking for Mr Glover. He wrote me a letter. No.

No, no.

He didn't write that letter. I did.

What? I suppose it was a cry for help, really. Only when I'd finished, I was

shy to put my own name, so I put his.

You mustn't be shy. Not with me.

No, of course not.

I never thought you'd be like this.

Not from the way you write. I thought you'd be more, well, down -to -earth and

practical. Oh, no, that's not me at all.

I'm quite unconventional, really. After all, that's why I'm here, on a mad

impulse. I know how you feel. I'm very impulsive myself.

I suppose you could say I'm very emancipated.

Emancipated? You mean you're old enough to vote?

I mean I'm very liberated.

Yes, well, I'm very liberated, too, only you don't get much chance around here.

Yes, I thought so.

I love flying in the face of convention, don't you? Oh, absolutely, I do it all

the time.

I knew we'd get on.

Do you believe in a totally free relationship?

Well, I don't mind going halves.

On the other hand, why pay when you can get it for nothing?

Fascinating.

Isn't there anywhere where we can talk?

I'm sure we could find somewhere a little more intimate.

Perhaps an empty broom cupboard.

What do you think of Kierkegaard?

Who does he play for?

Christ!

What's the matter, Pete? My God, Norman.

Claire Butterfield's a bit of a goer.

I've been reading her column for years, all about the sanctity of marriage and

forbidden fruit. I had no idea what she was really like.

She couldn't keep her hands off me. They had to separate us in the day room.

Where is she now? The porter asked her to leave. Said she was upset in the

geriatrics.

I don't understand, Fitz. Neither do I.

I've been invited to a sex orgy in Penge.

No, I mean, if you've been with Claire Butterfield, who's that in there?

What?

You see, Archie, you really must get over this idea that women are solely sex

orgies. That they're there entirely for your pleasure. You must allow time for a

relationship to grow.

Oh, to mature, to ripen.

Do you understand that? Yes, you've been telling me for the last hour.

The bell's going to go in a minute. Well, there's so much you can't put in a

letter. That's why I wanted to talk to you.

Are you ready for that kind of relationship? Ready? I've been ready for

hour. Oh, there's the bell. Look, I think our relationship's ripened enough

now, don't you?

Oh, come along, sexy. Give me a quick kiss. Come on, let it all hang out.

What day are you getting it?

Nothing, Dr. Germaine.

Now I know what's the matter with you.

Very rarely do I ever visit somebody who's written in, but just for once I

wanted to reach across the printed page and see for myself the kind of people

who write these letters. And what do I find?

A sex maniac.

Hadn't you understood anything? Didn't you even read my...

Butterfield? I don't understand.

Claire Butter... Finish! Oh,

dear.

Oh, dear, oh, dear.

I see Claire Butterfield's got her fair share of heartbreak again today, Archie.

I don't want to hear about Claire Butterfield, Norman, ever again.

That's the trouble with him, Norman. Just won't listen to advice.

Shut up, Figgis.

Wait a minute.

Hey, Fig, look at this. What?

Just here. The one from Worried Housewife. This one?

I am married to a long -distance lorry driver.

Recently, he's had a long spell in hospital, during which time I found out

he's having an affair with another woman.

Though he has promised to give her up, I do not believe it.

I have decided to leave him.

What I want to know is...

If I withdraw all the money from my joint account and sell the house, which

in both our names, will I be within the law?

My God, I've got to get my telephone!

I'm striking!

Would you believe it? Fancy Mrs Figgis writing a letter like that!

I'm sure I am.