I’ve loved books all my life. But why? I’ve been thinking about that and in my case it could be all down to an amazing experience when I was ten years old.
We lived in a big old house. It had originally been the mansion for the local gentry but a section of it had been demolished. Even so, it was still way too big and a large section had been sealed off – otherwise a team of servants would have been needed to keep it going, and that wasn’t going to happen.
Of course, to a boy, the sealed building was just a challenge. The locked doors were out of bounds, of course – any damage would have been obvious. All the ground floor windows were also securely fastened but one of the first floor windows was partially opened – just a crack. It took some time but I eventually reached it by climbing on to the sill of the nearest ground floor window, climbing up a pipe, walking along a ledge and finally balancing on the first floor sill. I pushed a screwdriver through the crack and lifted the catch – and I was in!
The first few hours were magic. I ran around exploring rooms that hadn’t been seen for hundreds of years (young boys tend to exaggerate). After that things got a bit disappointing. Yes, I was in this amazing place but there was nothing to do. I wandered around looking for anything to interest me.
Then I spotted the door. It was set at an angle at the top of the staircase. It wasn’t hidden exactly, but it was much narrower than a normal door and was easy to overlook. It must be a secret passage! The door wasn’t locked but it was jammed. I pulled and pushed and eventually it creaked open. I walked in and stopped just inside – because there was a sudden drop of about three feet – and no stairs! The “room” was about only about five foot wide. It was probably left over from some renovation but to me it was perfect.
And then I spotted the treasure – stacks and stacks of books. There were some hardbacks, but tons and tons of paperbacks. There were even some picture books! I jumped down and started to search through them. I sat on a pile and began to read the picture books. Before long the light began to fade through the dusty window panes and I heard my name being called outside. I dropped everything and ran to get out. I retraced my steps and dropped back to the ground. I was excited about my find but I know what would happen if I spilled the beans so I told my mother nothing.
For months I would disappear for hours. At first I read only picture books – but then I graduated to detective stores and the occasional cowboy tale. I discovered Tarzan of the jungle and John Carter of Mars and a host of other fictional characters. I discovered the joy of reading.
I can still feel the warn sunlight streaming through the window, I can smell the dusty pages and crackle of pages that hadn’t been turned for years. And I wonder, if I hadn’t found that secret room would I be writing this now?
