Читать книгу Confessions of a Bookseller - Shaun Bythell - Страница 30

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Wet, dull day. The sort that causes me to question why I have chosen to live here.

The Alma-Tadema sketch that I found in the copy of Catriona last week sold for £145, about five times what I was expecting. Such is the peculiar way of the second-hand book trade that a scrap of paper found in a 120-year-old book can prove to be worth more than the book itself.

As I was going through the boxes of books from the widow in Ayr (four flights of stairs), I found a pilot’s log-book from 1938 and a QE2 wardroom song book so, following the success of the last RAF notebook, I decided to list them on eBay and googled the name of the pilot in the log-book to see whether he was significant enough to add value to it. His name was John William Mott, and he had been an engineer on the HMS Exeter when it had attacked the Graf Spee in 1939. The Exeter suffered extensive damage and—without any serviceable guns—the captain ordered Mott to steam up and ram the enemy vessel. Luckily for all on board, the Graf Spee turned and steamed off towards Montevideo. Mott then managed to guide the vessel to the Falkland Islands and safety. His obituary was in the Independent, and makes fascinating reading. He oversaw the construction of the QE2, and later went on to manage Culzean Castle, a National Trust property near Ayr, which is where his widow retired following his death.

After work I went for a pint with Callum at the Brig End—a pub down by the River Bladnoch about a mile from Wigtown. We’re both invited to Tom and Willeke’s for supper tomorrow. Callum is going to drive there, and we’ll share a taxi home.

Till Total £49.50

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