He acts like an escaped prisoner, the way he skulks and hides, evading the police, this raggedy man. And yet before he dodged the police road block, he met with a young gypsy girl. She gave him a hot cup of either tea or soup from a caldron on the camp fire. It was the first act of real kindness paid to him since his abduction to The Village. What’s more it would be the last. Oh yes Mrs. Butterworth took this raggedy man in, but then that’s what she was there for, let us not pretend it was otherwise. Which is just as well for him, because if it had been anyone else living in his former house, he would most certainly have been sent away with a flea in his ear, or worse. He might not have found anyone at home at all. Then where would he have been? Left standing in the street with nowhere to go, except to go running back to his ex-employers, which of course he did, and met with the Colonel. But what of Sir Charles Portland, and perhaps more personally to the Prisoner, why couldn’t he, why didn’t he, turn to Janet Portland for help, after all she was his fiancée, wasn’t she? Well that’s just the problem, she wasn’t, at least not until ‘Do Not forsake Me Oh My Darling’ when Vincent Tilsley wrote her into the series! And that is what ‘the Prisoner’ suffers from, too many scriptwriters.
Be seeing you
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