Hyacinth Bucket (whose name, she insists, is pronounced “Bouquet”) is a suburban housewife in the West Midlands. She would be the first to tell you that she is a gracious hostess, a respected citizen, and a well-connected member of high society. If you don’t believe that, just ask her best friend Elizabeth, held captive in Hyacinth’s kitchen; or the postmen and neighbours who bristle at the sound of her voice; or Richard, her weary and compliant husband.

In fact, Hyacinth’s reputation could be as perfect as her new lounge set, if not for her senile father’s love of running wild in the nip. Oh, and she would prefer it if her brother-in-law was a sharper dresser. And that her husband was more ambitious. And that her sisters were more presentable. And do take your shoes off before you come in the house, dear. Mind that you don’t brush against the wallpaper.