Eric Sykes, a gentle master of suburban wit and whimsy Eric Sykes, however, was the exception to this rule of angst. In the Fifties and Sixties, when we were growing up, Sykes was a fixture on our tellies. In long-running series Sykes and a... (later simply Sykes), the long, tall Eric and the cuddly Hattie Jacques played an unlikely pair of oddly sexless twins, leading gently whimsical lives in Sebastopol Terrace, East Acton. Not for Sykes the incoherent rage of Garnett, the disappointed dreams of Harold Steptoe, or the borderline insanity of Basil Fawlty. Instead, each week, Eric and Hattie faced a slightly exaggerated version of the ordinary dilemmas that confronted the viewers in their suburban sitting rooms. Sykes was able to adapt The Plank because, as well as being a much-loved performer, he wrote almost everything he appeared in. When he started his comedy career in the years immediately after the Second World War, he was part of a new wave of comedy, a contemporary of Spike Milligan, with whom he co-wrote episodes of The Goon Show. He also wrote for one of the most influential performers in British comedy - certainly the only one officially made of wood. Archie Andrews was a ventriloquist's dummy, and the "star" of Educating Archie. Peter Brough, the chap with his hand up Archie's jumper, was a man whose ventriloquial skills were indeed best suited to radio. But we were only kids, and to us Archie was real. Sykes has to take much of the credit for that. Eric also wrote for the late, great, morose comedy legend, Frankie Howerd, through whom we derive our one tenuous personal connection with him. Our first venture into comedy was writing for The Frankie Howerd Radio Show in 1978. When we took our script round to Frank's house in Kensington, he bade us wait, and disappeared into his office, where Barry Cryer was writing Howerd's "ad-libs" for that night's Parkinson Show. Frank asked Barry if our script was any good. Barry, a loyal member of the comedy writers" mafia, told Frank it was brilliant. Years later, we learnt from Ray Galton and Alan Simpson, the creators of Hancock's Half Hour and Steptoe and Son, that Howerd always had new writers vetted by a Frank-scarred veteran. Eric had first written for Frank just after the war, when both were cutting their comedy teeth on Variety Bandbox. When he moved on, novices Galton and Simpson were hired in his place. However, Frank insisted that Galton and Simpson should have their scripts approved by Sykes. Eric agreed, reluctantly. One winter's night, as Mr and Mrs Sykes settled down to a romantic evening in front of the television to watch Sportsview, the doorbell rang. Eric knew it would be Ray and Alan. Too embarrassed to read their work in front of them, again, he told his wife to say he wasn't in and would they leave the script. To be on the safe side, he nipped on to his balcony, even though he was dressed in just his pyjamas and dressing gown. Young Galton and Simpson stepped inside the flat to deposit the script on the coffee table. But just as they were about to leave, Alan noticed that the British Open Table Tennis Championships were starting on the BBC. An aficionado of ping-pong, Alan asked if they could stay and watch. Mrs Sykes didn't know how to refuse. The programme was so gripping that probably only Mrs Sykes heard the rain suddenly start to lash against the windows. The table tennis finals overran, so it was very late when Ray and Alan finally left, and Mrs Sykes was able to let a drenched and shivering Eric back into his flat. The perfect inspiration for an episode of Sykes. Laurence Marks and Maurice Gran are the creators of 'Birds of a Feather," 'Goodnight Sweetheart" and 'The New Statesman"