The long-running whodunnit returns with much customary rose-tinting of the past and a swoon-worthy Tom Brittney – before a surprising segue into the plight of gay men in the 1950s
‘“Marriage is like a deckchair,” says Roy Reeves, master of entertainments at Merrie’s holiday camp. “Very comfortable at first … but impossible to get out of.”
Minutes later, understandably, Roy is found dead, killed by 1958’s murder weapon of choice, a pint of poisoned stout. Whodunnit? As in Agatha Christie, everybody is in the frame. His long-suffering wife, Babs, his long-suffering staff, and anybody who had to sit through his set.
