The Archers' Simon Williams on getting the giggles at work

My father had a troublous look on his face when I came down to breakfast one day in 1963. He uttered the words that all teenagers dread: ‘Come in and close the door.’  He had in front of him two sets of paperwork. The first was my school report, which told a story of a gangling, frivolous 16-year-old not destined for the sixth form or the Harrow honours board.

The second was a series of stinking reviews for his latest play. Neither made for good reading, but I sensed he was looking to negotiate. He was facing another downturn in his fortunes and  I was treading water at Harrow – there was an obvious economy to be made.

‘How would you like to leave – go to France and study French?’  ‘Now?’  ‘Yes.’  The deal was struck. The best days of my life were officially over, and I could start enjoying myself.

I had never imagined the old boy network would be of any use to me, but 25 years later a friend from Harrow, Andrew Morgan, asked me to play the heroic Group Captain ‘Chunky’ Gilmore in a special episode of Doctor Who, ‘Remembrance of the Daleks’.

One evening during filming he called me in to watch the ‘rushes’ of a gun battle: ‘There’s something you should work on if you want to play action heroes.’ (I didn’t. I don’t. I’m really more Mr Bean than Mr Bond.)

There I was on the huge screen and with every shot I fired, I didn’t just blink, I flinched like a card-carrying wuss.  Thankfully, Andrew managed to select takes when my revolver failed to fire, and laid on the scary scary bang-bangs afterwards.  

Twenty-four years later, the key characters from the episode were reunited to record a spin-off audio series, Counter-Measures. Five years on, it is still going.

The scripts are fantastical sci-fi adventures and plenty of time has to be set aside for the director to explain the plots to me. Luckily my character has morphed into an old duffer, so he and I can share our bewilderment as the stories unfold. Shamefully I am one of many actors who get the giggles at the drop of a hat.

Every now and then the inherent ludicrousness of what we do for a living is just overwhelming. In the climax of a recent Counter-Measures exploit I had to shout a line that totally undid me.

Try saying this yourself at home, bearing in mind it has to be shouted seemingly on the run and in terrible danger: ‘Everyone in the van! This whole estate is overrun with zombie mushroom men!’ I can’t even type it without laughing.

Pull yourself together, Williams. Overheard recently at a first-night party, a line to treasure: ‘… My heart was thumping like a stolen moped.’