Читать книгу Confessions of a Bookseller - Shaun Bythell - Страница 31

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Nicky arrived at 8.55 a.m., just as I was switching the lights on. ‘Eh, you’re up early’ was her greeting—fair enough after my lie-in last Saturday. She told me that—despite an extensive search—there was nothing worthy of Foodie Friday in the discount area of Morrisons last night. Considering how low the bar is for Foodie Friday, there must have been nothing but out-of-date dog food in the Morrisons’ discount area.

After we’d picked the orders, I dropped off the mail at the post office at eleven o’clock. William studiously ignored me. Perhaps he’s embarrassed about his uncharacteristic friendliness of the week before last.

Shortly before five o’clock a customer asked Nicky, ‘I’m looking for a book. I don’t know what it’s called but I read it in school and it was about a koala that keeps stealing jam. Do you have it?’ Nicky laughed, pointed at me and said, ‘Ask him, I’m away home.’ Shortly afterwards, a customer appeared with six boxes of antiquarian books that he told me he’d inherited from his great-aunt. I could see Nicky’s interest was piqued, and it was obvious that she wanted to stay and rake through them. I don’t think it’s possible—once you’ve worked in the second-hand book trade—to hear from someone that they’ve got six boxes of antiquarian books and not want to go through them immediately and see what they are, but Nicky has clearly decided that she’d had enough for the day and headed out the door to Bluebottle, her skip of a van.

Callum, Anna and I went to Tom and Willeke’s for supper, which turned out to be an extremely entertaining night. Tom and Willeke are more or less self-sufficient when it comes to food, so everything we ate was grown and cooked by Tom. Home at 2.30 a.m.

Till Total £85.50

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