Poor old Albert, I mean George. He was properly thrown in the deep end by his brother David, I mean Edward. But he was helped out by Elizabeth, I mean the late Queen Mother.

After watching that lovely film The King’s Speech at the Screen on the Square in Witney last week, I began to wonder what more there could possibly be to learn about King Edward VIII (David, to his friends), and of his brother King George VI (Bertie to his, including, according to the film, his speech therapist, hired to help him with his stammer) and their respective wives, Wallis Simpson and Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon.

But more there apparently is, and some say it has been weeded out of records kept at the Bodleian Library, Oxford, and spirited away by some unknown hand. One box (Box 24) of papers and at least one letter from the Queen Mother were found to be missing when the collection of documents from Edward’s solicitor, Viscount Monckton, was released 11 years ago (on March 2, 2000).

At the time, university authorities said that the missing box — withheld until 2037 — did not contain anything about the Royal Family. But what about that letter?

It was dated August 1936, just a month after the Queen Mother had described Wallis Simpson as “the lowest of the low” to colonial secretary Lord Lloyd. Could it have described Mrs Simpson, or the Duchess of Windsor as she would become, in even pithier terms?

But I can’t help feeling that if that someone with the weeding trowel merely wanted to spare the blushes of the Queen Mother — who of course was then still living — surely the letter could now be released.

Lord Monckton (1891-1965), advised Edward VIII throughout the abdication negotiations. He left his papers to his old college, Balliol, but in 1974 they were moved to the the New Bodleian Library.

As it happens the New Bodleian, which is about to receive a £22m revamp, has connections with two of the characters portrayed in The King’s Speech. As a Latin inscription on the wall at the corner of Broad Street and Parks Road proclaims, Queen Mary laid the foundation stone in 1937, and her son George VI formally opened it after the war in 1946.

Famously, there were red faces all round — and probably a lot of stammering too — at the Royal opening ceremony when the silver key, with which the king was supposed to open the door, broke in the lock.

The extraordinary art deco building, with its strange Egyptian-looking stone reliefs on some of the landings on its staircase, was designed by Sir Giles Gilbert Scott and completed in 1940. It is connected to the main Bodleian Library across the street by an underground passage.

Until 2009, requests for books and manuscripts from readers in the old library arrived at the stacks beneath the new library by a pneumatic system known as the Lamson Tube. The books themselves were delivered by a conveyor belt through the tunnel — which was finally turned off last year.

Edward VIII, the handsome king of England from January 20 to December 11 1936, who is portrayed as being unkind to his younger brother in the film, went up to Magdalen College as an undergraduate in 1912. In his book, A King’s Story: The Memoirs of HRH the Duke of Windsor, written in 1951, he complains that at times he was unable to go out because of all the journalists and photographers, and of how became one of the tourist sights of the city.

Watching the film at the Screen on The Square, in Witney’s old Corn Exchange was like visiting a cinema in the old days.

Some of the audience last week were not in their first youth. When the King finally read his famous speech at the beginning of the war, someone behind me said: “I remember that speech.”

But leaving the cinema, passing the upright piano stored beneath the screen along with the organ, I thought there was something missing, something different from visiting a cinema long ago. Then I realised. We never stood up to hear God Save the Queen.