What ensues is much flustered hiding of said contraband in panic, much double-taking and embarrassed concocting of increasingly implausible white lies in panic, and much manic jumping in and out of many doors in panic - in short, all the hallmarks of vintage 70s sex comedy by the inimitably repressed British middle class.
The actors are essentially well cast, though they present a mixed bag of skill levels.
Artistic director Ramsel's programme notes tell us that "unfortunately today, farce seems to have gone the same way as panto - good memories, but the ability to make it work now shared by a mere few." Agreed.
To pull off this brand of high-impact lowbrow period sex-farce takes a lot of polish, ironically enough.
Harrison's frantic browbeaten Peter shows some faintly Fawlty-esque ability with exasperated panic.