"I had written a play about my experiences looking for work," Dominic Behan once recalled, "and so I took this dirty manuscript, typed with one finger, up to the BBC. I childishly thought that all I had to do was walk in there, but of course I was promptly turned away by the doorman. So I went into a public house nearby. I had a shilling in my hand. The mort awful thing a man can contemplate is his last shilling. I had to decide whether I would have half a pint and walk part of the way, or a pint and walk all the way home. I had a pint, and got into conversation with a big fellow sitting there.
"I told him what I had been doing, and he gave me three pounds to get home. Two days later, I got a telegram asking me to see a BBC producer. The fellow I had talked to in the pub was Gilbert Harding."