Like so many, many others during lockdown, I decided to make a conscious effort to work on my personal development - and to read more.

Well it was actually one of my New Years resolutions, and not for the first time.

So when the pandemic struck here in March, my reading was going to go one of two ways.

This was because on the one hand I’d be forfeiting a three-hour day commute of potential book worm binging, although I know myself too well - 3 pages in and being on a moving train I’d be faced planted into a page of crime or spy literature.

The second option of being at home for so many months won out in the end and so the reading from home or (RFH) began.

I picked a topic close to my heart and had all the tools (well novels), I just had to dust them down and open the first cover.

My parents had bought me the whole James Bond collection by Ian Fleming when I was in my early 20s and lamely I’d only ever read the first two. The books just sat with my other collection of Bond memorabilia including stamps, model DB5 and Sean Connery dummy (classic dinner suit attire, naturally).

Fast forward a couple of further lockdowns and I’m glad to say I’m working my way through the novels in the order in which Fleming wrote them and I’m realising what a simple but clever writer he was.

The novels are far from politically correct and make for hard reading at times but it’s a sign of the times in which they were written I guess. The numbers speak for themselves, selling over 60 million copies of the novels worldwide.

It’s a shame he passed away before he saw what a huge global success his 00 agent had become but I guess there’s… No time to die.