Something I want no one to see or know about no1

I stole things, in particular I was addicted for some time to nicking books from Mullen’s book shop in Donegal Place. This went on for about 2 ½ years after I started Queens.
Money was short, at least that was my excuse. I was doing Maths but I loved reading and books to read were very expensive on a student grant (yes we all got grants in those days, and our fees paid too, I’ll have you know). I reckon perhaps we were just a wee bit spoiled, clever pants baby boomers who never had to work nor want. But we didn’t think like that. We were going to change the world. We were going to undo all the bad things our parents and grandparents had done. We were the people.
When you went into Mullen’s there were all these old men in suits who worked there. Dopey, like. There must have been a dozen of them pottering about there. The first time I did it I took a penguin copy of Sons and Lovers. E-a-s-y. I slipped it inside my fur coat and walked out with a nonchalance I didn’t feel. Dizzily I headed to the door, my heart thumping in my ears and throat like a loose-skinned drum. I could feel the fear as I headed the few yards to the no 71 bus and jumped on. Jeepers! Sitting down I got the fare out of my pocket for the conductor and then and only then I reached inside my coat and felt MY copy of Sons and Lovers. God but it felt good.
It felt so good I went back the next week and did the same thing for Country Girls. As you can see I was in need of an education in something. I knew what I wanted to read about, though. And those silly old eejits never noticed me.
This went on spasmodically, whenever the urge became too much to resist, for about another 2 ½ years. There was a song “I get my kicks on Route 66”, but lifting a book out of Mullen’s gave me a high which thrilled me every time.
Then it stopped. No, I wasn’t caught. I had just lifted Our Man in Havanna and headed for the 71 as usual. But no adrenalin rush. No dizzy heights of excitement. Just shame. And I never did it again.

Maureen Davidson