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Mrs M Recommends - Regrets, Reminisces, Remembers & Revisits
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| MOTH-EATEN MEMORIES |
| Written by Atticus | |
| Monday, 22 February 2010 09:30 | |
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Always wrapped up in a thick green fleece, even on the muggiest summer's day, Natasha would refuse to let me do any work in the shop. My single task was to sit behind the till and read, occasionally serving a customer. I was able to take as many breaks as I wanted, as long as they involved nosing around in other second hand book shops in the area. Soon I had a pretty detailed inventory of their contents in my head. Deciding that I read far too narrowly, Natasha would often return from similar excursions with a book or two that "I simply must read." According to Natasha's estimates, she had at least three times as many books at home as we had in the shop. Her husband had now banned her from bringing home any more, which of course was impossible. She would simply smuggle them in and add them to the middle of one of the piles going up the stairs. When a mouse decided to nest in the accounts papers in the drawer below the till, Natasha saw to it that the mouse was not disturbed, going as far as leaving crumbs of food on the floor. I used to cringe as I noticed a mouse running across the floor right in front of browsing customers. Still, Natasha quickly built up a loyal following of customers enthralled by her vast literary knowledge. Despite the shop owner's best efforts to ruin the business, she kept it going as other shops on the road began to go out of business. The last time I went in to say hello, Natasha was no longer working there. The owner must have finally pushed her out. I should have seen then it was the beginning of the end for the shop. Good luck Natasha, and good luck to the remaining few independent bookshops on Charing Cross Road.
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