Thinking about James Bond 

I read my first Bond when I was a teenager - I read Doctor No with great enjoyment - I relished the short sentences - the gleaming amoral world depicted by the book thrilled my naive soul - when I turned the pages of the paperback, I forgot all about having to turn up at the news agents for my paper round - I was walking, instead, upon white sand, kissing a dangerous girl -

My Great Pan paperback's cover showed Bond, supporting a semi conscious blonde - she was wearing a torn yellow dress, and her arms dangled down by her sides - Bond's shirt and trousers were also torn and ripped - they were standing up to their knees in some form of marsh - Bond looked spent with exhaustion, but ready for anything -

Behind the figures of Bond and the girl, was the smooth face of an oriental, shaven headed, like a great green moon - his expression showed no emotion, but his narrow eyes were fixed in a gaze of malign intensity upon Bond and the girl -

The paperback cost me two shillings and sixpence - now, foxed, with yellowing pages, it is lost within my shelves -

I saw the early Bond films with Sean Connery as Bond - Connery was just as I had imagined Bond - like a  sleek and cruel animal -

When I visited Eatbourne a few weeks ago, I walked down a street parellel to the esplanade - I glanced up to see this poster, showing all the Bonds - it was placed above the ground floor of  a restaurant called The Gurkha Delight - the restaurant was closed when I walked by - there was a sad air to the street, but when I saw the  suave Bonds, they reminded me, all at once, of my hours of guilty reading delights -