Graham Greene wrote a book called Our Man in Havana. It�s very good. At one point, the lead character writes a letter to his great aunt in Oxford. She lives at 65 Woodstock Road. Everyday this week I have walked past this address and thought about going in. It�s a sweetie shop. It�s called Court Corner Shop. I want to go in and say �Do you know you�re in a book?!� But I probably won�t. I have imagined myriad possible responses � none of which end without red faces all round:

�No, we only sell newspapers, sweets and cigarettes, sorry, no books.�

�Yes, what of it?�

�No, really? I read a book once - 1973 I think it was - anyway, I got to chapter sixteen only to discover that the Duke of Monmouth already HAD a brother��

�Yes. Didn�t rate it much.�

�No. What do you want me to do? Put up a plaque?�

�Yes. It�s a big book too. I can�t remember the exact title, but it has the word �telephone� in it somewhere, I�m almost certain.�

�No. We don�t read books round these here parts.�

�Yes. We are considering our legal position.�

Maybe I�ll go in next week and buy a quarter pound of butterscotch and see if the owner seems friendly.