years later. Mark asked me how come Malcolm and I always had so much to talk about.
"He's easy to talk to. And he reads a lot."
"You two got so much to say, I don't get a chance to open my mouth all lunch-time."
"You do. You shove food in."
One lunchtime Malcom asked me if I'd like to go to a reading with him.
"Um. Don't know."
"Amelia Turner. Shortlisted for the Booker Prize last year."
I wanted very much to go. But although I no longer thought Malcolm quite so weird, I wasn't sure if I wanted to go out in his company.
"Afterwards, I'll cook us curry. Do you like it? "
"Love it."
"Me too. Settled then?" he asked and smiled his soft smile.
It didn't surprise me that I nodded.
After the reading and the curry dinner, I went into Malcolm's sitting room where there were more books than I'd ever seen on anyone's shelves. I began to read the titles.
"Help yourself," said Malcolm.
"Thanks. But if I read a book, I have add it to my collection."
"Strange, same here." He waved his arms towards the shelves. "But look where it's got me."
"I'd hate to be without books. They're ... friends."
"That sounds like lonely," said Malcolm.
I turned and pulled out a book.
"Are you?"
