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She could respond in a hostile, even aggressive way, accusing Emma of being a two friends using ideas from the practical work Read Jacqueline Wilson's Secrets, The class need to agree what Liz is going to steal and set up the area by.
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• The Yamas: Asteya - non-stealing
• 15 Celebrities Busted for Shoplifting (and What They Stole!)
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• Emma Roberts' Extra Cute Off-Duty Outfit Will Steal Your Heart

Continually running around in circles after experiences which bring us only pleasure keeps us locked in a cycle of wanting and desiring, which — if we think about it — never really ends…. Practising knowing that we have enough, and we are enough, is the key to wanting and desiring less, and therefore feeling a lot more whole and happy within ourselves. If you'd like to explore the Yamas in practice, you can follow our programme ' The Eight Limbs of Yoga '.

Go deeper and truly enrich your yoga practice and hopefully, your life.

• 1. Amanda Bynes;
• Portable Moving Images: A Media History of Storage Formats.
• To Steal a Kiss.
• Beauty is a Wound!
• The day I sat in Emma Thompson's kitchen and accused her of stealing my movie.
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Eating lots of delicious and healthy daal in India while on yoga retreats inspired me to create this recipe. Healthy comfort food: What more do you want? You can find out more about our Cookie Policy here. Sign in.

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Try for free. The kitchen is small, but it all looks state-of-the-art in a serious way - the kitchen of someone who really knows how to cook. There is a beautiful piece of meat on the counter with fresh vegetables, some already cut, and something baking in the oven. Mince pies. She tells me she's making a dinner for her son, who's expected home from university that day. The house is comfortable, but spare. I glance out of a nearby window and see the garden - trees and grass, all trim and, like the house, inviting.

Radio 4 plays quietly in the background. Emma begins by saying she would like to assure me that my play and screenplay were not used in any way in the creation of Effie. I ask - very nicely I think - why then were my play and screenplay not returned to me, if she and her husband were working on a screenplay dealing with the same subject? Theatre: Murphy is certain that a copy of his screenplay was sent to Thompson through a mutual friend.

Although I am sure my play and screenplay were sent to her through a mutual friend and to her husband through the casting director for the West End production of The Countess, she seems alarmingly confident that she, at least, has never seen either of them.

Her hands press down hard on the table; she leans forward, eyes blazing: 'I feel as if my integrity is being impugned! The spell is broken and all I see now is a woman in an oatmeal sweater. One who is used to getting her way. I look at her speechlessly and wait for her to show me the door. I have been with Emma Thompson less than five minutes and it's over. But she doesn't move, just continues to stare through me with those furious blue eyes.

She looks at me for a long moment and I wonder if she's thinking if this unpleasant American is now going to push for a casting credit. If there is no change in her position, she seems willing, at least, to admit that we are at a serious impasse. There is only one way, as I see it, for an amicable resolution. Interesting, her expression seems to say.

I tell her I think collaborating could be difficult and she expresses her own reservations. She did try it once apparently, and tells me it was a disaster. I think to myself that I like the grit Emma has in her screenplay, but I feel she's flattened out the character of Effie Ruskin, and it was Effie who first inspired me to write The Countess.

Effie Ruskin was an unusually beautiful woman, tall with auburn hair and heavy- lidded, grey-blue eyes. She was Scottish to the core. Effie was determined never to lose hers, and she never did. She was a superb horsewoman, a concert-level pianist and spoke five languages.

Her letters, which I read while researching the play, reveal a woman of charm, humour and generosity. She was not universally liked, however. The novelist Elizabeth Gaskell detested her as a ferocious flirt. Gaskell claimed she once saw Effie enter a room, to emerge two hours later with three proposals of marriage.

And there may have been some truth in Gaskell's allegations. John Everett Millais recalled begging for an introduction to her at a ball, only to have the statuesque beauty of 17 dismiss the pimply year-old with a barely concealed expression of disdain as men twice his age danced attendance on her.

This is not the Effie found in Emma's script and probably the point on which our screenplays most diverge. I find Emma's Effie a sweet character, but to me at least, not the kind of woman who would attract the interest of two of the giants of her time. Emma agrees she will obtain a copy of the latest version of my screenplay.

I had already seen her screenplay - after sending her producers the registered letter - and we'll talk the following week.

I take out a box of cough drops I have for a sore throat. Emma looks at the cheap brand in horror: 'Oh, don't take those.

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How kind, I think. It is the disastrous Ruskin marriage that is firmly at the centre of our two screenplays. All those men panting with desire for Effie and she finally chooses to marry John Ruskin, a man who wouldn't touch her on her wedding night or any night thereafter. Ruskin, whose credo exhorted his legion of devoted followers to 'Go to Nature in all singleness of heart and walk with her. She was eventually reduced to begging him to sleep with her so that she might at least have children. But the more she pleaded, the harder he pushed back.

Finally he felt compelled to tell her - with becoming reluctance, no doubt - that he feared she had an 'internal disease'. His young wife, ignorant in all sexual matters, appears to have believed him. Effie nursed her shame in silence, never breathing a word of it to anyone, not even her mother, to whom she was extremely close.

A perfect metaphor for the idealisation and oppression of women, I thought when I began to write The Countess. Effie was beautiful, but would never be the idealised, unchanging beauty that Ruskin sought. The oft-repeated explanation for Ruskin's failure on his wedding night is that, having only seen naked women depicted in paintings or marble statues, he was appalled at the sight of his young wife's pubic hair.

But this theory, first espoused by Ruskin's supporters, who sought to portray him an innocent, doesn't hold up. Ruskin, as he himself pointed out, lived in close quarters at Oxford with men, who coarsely discussed every aspect of female anatomy. A more probable explanation might be that, raised by overbearing parents, Ruskin had never progressed beyond a kind of pre-adolescent sexuality and was simply terrified.

We know the marriage was never consummated because Effie had to have a court doctor attest to her virginity before she could have her marriage to Ruskin annulled. Even after Effie left him, Ruskin, desperate to pin his own shortcomings on his wife, stated rather viciously in a court document that, 'though her face was beautiful, her person was not formed to excite passion'. Her 'person', though, did nothing to dampen Millais's ardour.

He wrote Effie passionate letters expressing his physical longing for her. They were later to have eight children together. I spent years researching the background of the Ruskin - Millais calamity, eventually travelling to London, the Highlands, and Venice where its principal events took place.

Lady Eastlake is perhaps the most modern character in the saga. She forswore marriage and travelled the world, writing books about her adventures. She paid the usual price for her independence and strong views, disparaged as a 'tigress in petticoats', a 'she-man' and trivialised as a bluestocking. After Effie fled the Ruskin home, it was Lady Eastlake who went knocking on doors and haunting coffee houses to spread the truth about Ruskin's behaviour.