I live in seaside town ruined by shoplifters - just nipping to Tesco has become terrifying

My home from home is a Victorian seaside town with a pier and a picturesque seafront. When I arrived post-pandemic, a lone scribe seeking solitude, silence and sunsets a shell's throw from the beach, I felt safe. Things change. Not only can I no longer swim in the sparkling sea because the water pollution crisis has rendered it life-threatening, but I take my life in my hands each time I go shopping.

Not long ago, I was accustomed to using the small Tesco store yards from my door as my larder. If I discovered, while cooking, that I was out of cornflour or cashew nuts, I could have them within minutes. Now, I have to ask myself whether I can face the assault course today. The reason is a terrifying proliferation of shoplifters who are helping themselves to what is not theirs, including our safety and liberty.

Last week, while wandering along an aisle with my basket, I was shoved aside by a rampaging male brandishing an empty carrier bag, yelling, "Free food for all today!" He proceeded to stuff his bag with Tesco Finest steaks, and fruit and vegetables before heading for the biscuit and bread section. I glanced at the yellow-vested security guard stationed by the back door. He shrugged as if to say, the man might be high on drugs, mentally challenged, or could be carrying a knife.

I caught up with the man by the Oreos. A handle had ripped on his bulging bag, and his spoils had spilled across the floor. The guard rushed over and started helping him ram his items back in the bag. Reader, it happened. At the till, I challenged the server. "Did you see that?!" She shrugged. "We're not allowed to tackle them," she said. "Not even the security guard? What the hell is he doing, helping that guy to refill his bag with stolen goods?" "We have CCTV," responded the employee. "And we've alerted the manager." "Where is he or she?" I persisted. "He's down in the other shop."

In October 2023, we were promised that shoplifting would be targeted like organised crime. Thirteen retailers, including Tesco, the Co-op and John Lewis, agreed to commit £800,000 over two years to help fund the Project Pegasus partnership. What happened?

Last week, Thames Valley police and crime commissioner Matthew Barber said we the public have a duty to stand up to shoplifters. "You're the idiot who's standing there with a mobile phone. Try to stop them leaving, you know, don't just stand there and watch, which a lot of people do, which frustrates me. We all have a responsibility to help if we want to live in a safe, prosperous society."

Call 999? Expect the police to get there in time? You're having a laugh. Shout 'Put that back!' at a shoplifter and receive a crack on the head, a slashing or a fatal stabbing for your trouble. Somebody sack this idiot now.

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James Whale broke rules, bent airwaves and kowtowed to no one. He went above the parapet, beyond the pale and over the line to tell life as it is. His broadcasting style was unbridled, unambiguous and no holds barred. He was a walking lesson to all who care to call ourselves journalists. Cancer robbed us of a one-off: a fearless voice above the noise who poked us all in the eye with that thing called truth and enlivened the stage with fervid debate and stinging opinion.

Oh boy, isn't he missed. His weekly column will be such a tough act to fill. I'll be caretaking it for him for the next three weeks, until his very brave replacement steps in.

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Cinema is dead. Whether your dream is music or movies, YouTube will never make you a star. Today's hits parade, and the stars are made, on Netflix.

Hollywood is not getting it. In desperation, it rehashes old goods. But most films are of their time and should not be revisited. The fourth Bridget Jones, Mad About the Boy, was bad enough. Freakier Friday and Bend it Like Beckham 2? Pass.

Now, they are bringing us a remake of Kathleen Turner's and Michael Douglas's 1989 sensation The War of the Roses, reshaped as The Roses starring (who else?) Olivia Colman and Benedict Cumberbatch.

Worse, they'll soon be asking us to sit through The Devil Wears Prada 2, a sequel to the glossy fashion magazine horror story starring Meryl Streep, Anne Hathaway and Emily Blunt. Scheduled for release next year, the three graces reprise their original roles. Talk about ageing A-listers keeping young actors out of work. I can't wait to miss it. That's all.

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On holiday in Egypt in 2007, I allowed my eight and ten-year-old to swim in a pool with live dolphins. Photos were taken. Footage was shot. None of it is on display in our house.

Time ticks. We learn to know better. We all have things we feel guilty about, and the list grows longer. Of that episode with entrapped marine mammals deployed for the entertainment of human beings, I am deeply ashamed. It wasn't the kids' fault. I should have known better.

So I shuddered at the story of down-from-Londoners swimming in the sea off Dorset, dancing in the waves with a giant bottlenose. The creature is said to have 'begged' them for belly rubs and tummy tickles. The same dolphin was subsequently injured by a boat propeller. Wild animals, folks. You can't reason with them, nor warn them of human-generated danger. Leave them to their ocean. Look. Take pictures. Shoot video. But please don't touch them. Go and swim somewhere else.

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A 32-year-old solicitor claims to have been assaulted by a 'Magic Mike' stripper answering to the name Stuart Kennedy, who arrived at her hen party dressed as a fire fighter and who allegedly toyed with her breasts. The occasion was a prosecco and pizza party in the four-star Crieff Hydro hotel resort in Perthshire, Scotland. The unwelcome surprise had been arranged secretly by one of the bride's sisters. Who presumably had some knowledge of her sibling's likes and dislikes.

"I wasn't fully appreciating what he was doing," stated the bride-to-be at an ongoing hearing. "I was just in shock. His crotch was within half a foot of my face."

You get what you pay for, I suppose.

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The Profumo affair of the 1960s, John Major's affair with fellow MP Edwina Currie during the 1980s and the more recent scandal of Prince Andrew's association with Jeffrey Epstein - now the subject of Andrew Lownie's explosive book Entitled: The Rise and Fall of The House of York - underline the British taste for the drama of sex and betrayal.

Nothing more than a cultural fascination with class and power? Look at us now, gripped to the gills by the story of a man who tried to drown his lover who also happened to be his daughter-in-law.

On holiday in Florida with his grandchildren and their mother, businessman Mark Raymond Gibbon, 62, apparently attempted to drown 33-year-old hairdresser Jasmine Wylde, the former partner of his son Alex, following an argument over Wills and money. Hands up, everyone: ordinary people do it for us too.