Five years of the interval were spent in the army. I had an eventful war, and for a time after it took to film-making as a writer-producer. As a producer I was a flop but as a writer I had a series of successes. A screenplay I had written for an Ealing film was nominated for an Oscar. For the American Academy to nominate a British writer for his work on a British film was at that time unusual. I was flattered and should have been encouraged as well, but by the mid-fifties I was beginning to have doubts about film-making as even a part-time occupation for a writer who enjoyed his work most when he was writing to be read. I had begun writing novels again and, although I now had friends in the film industry with whom I enjoyed working, I had no sense of commitment to the over-indulged accountant and his lay-preaching master who tried to lead it. The children had grown up and gone back to America. Louise was working again, and well, as a fashion illustrator. I could pay off the back income tax by selling the house in Pelham Crescent and we could start again; but we didn’t.
What do You think about Waiting For Orders (2012)?
