I sat in the bookshop with a pile of ten books in front of me that I was reviewing. There was a distinct possibility of my purchasing the most informative volume that pertained to my latest interest.

I was finding this particular subject hard to make progress with and had already purchased several likely candidates. Unfortunately, after a chapter or so I had completely got the thread of what the author was doing his level best to over explain. I was just deciding not to bother when I spotted a young man putting a book he had just taken from the reference section into the large capacious pocket of his overcoat. I more than half recognised him otherwise I probably would have quickly got up and reported this activity to the shop proprietor. Instead, I studied the ‘thief’ for a further 15 minutes and observed what he did next.

He glanced around himself and satisfied himself possibly that his actions had not been observed. After a brief period, he was back at the reference section and was glancing at another book that seemed to have taken his fancy. This book seemed to interest him greatly and as before it ended up in his overcoat pocket. On the safe stowing of a third book (that I knew about) he casually made his way to the exit door of the shop. Polite, I thought, as he opened the door and allowed a woman to enter the shop and an elderly gentleman behind him to leave.

I looked at the ten books I had in front of me and went and replaced nine of them from where I had found them. The ‘selected’ tome entitled “When things fall apart.” By PEMA CHÖDRÖN I clutched hopefully and queued at the till hoping my £9.99 would have been wisely spent. Money politely was taken, and change donated to a children’s charity I headed for the door and was side lined by a lady pushing a huge toddler carrier that obviously had great priority over every other shop traffic. Ignoring me completely she sneered towards her friend’s direction and said, “no one takes any care anymore!” I knew exactly what she meant. BUT it made me think that perhaps I should show some sort of care and go and see the ‘Book Thief’ and find out what he thought he was playing at.

I knew his address and knocked on his door. The door was opened just the merest crack and the expected face appeared in the very narrow gap between door and frame.

“Can I help you?”

“I was at the bookstore and could not help noticing that you stole some books from the store.”

“You must be mistaken. I haven’t stolen anything.”

“Really,” I said, drawing my mobile phone from my inside jacket pocket.

“What is it you want mister? Oi! … Don’t I know you?”

“Well, you should do. You are in my tutorial group. Sometimes you sleep and miss my class. Sometimes we debate what you will do next. In case you have forgotten I am Mr Lewis, Don, you are Peter Whistler. Of no fixed class or attention”

“Oh I am going to ring the Police, that is, if I don’t get some sort of explanation.”

“I love books Mr Lewis but cannot afford them.”

“Would a loan help?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Why do you think it is alright to steal books from the shop?”

“Well, at least I read and study them and take them back when I have. He sells hundreds of books that never get read.”

“Is that important?”

“My father always told me that we read to know that we are not alone. I am alone most of the time. Behold my only friends.” And he held out the three volumes that I had seen him take. I noticed that he held them gently as if afraid he would squash and break them.

“My very good friends as well. I have read all three of them. I could loan them to you. Better a legal loan than an illegal one.”

“That’s kind, BUT Why would you do that?”

“So that you know that we are both not alone. I suppose.”

“Why are you so kind when I have been so rude?”

“I suppose I am hoping that one day there might be some reward for me in it. Anyway, that it brings me Joy would be such a blessing, for I am older now and apart from my brother Warnie all I have in my life is my books, and we all need something to cherish and look after.”

“I’ll take these books back directly.”

“Pop in my study and I can loan you any books that take your fancy.”

“Thank you, Mr Lewis, I will be there, on time and awake tomorrow morning.”

Alas, he never took those books back, never loaned any of Clive’s books and left the University without obtaining a degree. Mt Whistler ended up a school master ( just as his father had been before him). They meet on a train later in the film and have a drink together, finally agreeing on the fundamental they have in common. Loneliness and a great love of books and writing.

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This months writing exercise was to think about a favourite film that you have watched lots of times and using the plot or inspiration write a short story. My story is the bringing together of several scenes from the great movie SHADOWLANDS starring Sir Tony Hopkins as C.S. Lewis (The Narnia Author) and his real life romance with American divorcee Joy Gresham (Debora Winger). I could not get to grips with the power and emotion that existed (eventually) between Clive and Joy (oh I wanted to try but this is far from a happy tale, and it leaves me feeling sad and humble at every viewing) BUT found the interaction between the Don and the student Peter Whistler on a level that I could portray much better.

My absolute pinnacle moment of the film is when CSL is asked about his prayers for Joy.