Шон Байтелл - The Diary of a Bookseller

I found a customer in the garden, gazing into the pond, despite the gate with a ‘Private’ sign that she would have had to open before she could get near to it.

A customer brought three books to the counter, pointed to two of them and said, ‘I’ll take those two; you’ll have to put that one back on the shelf.’ He subsequently asked if he could pay for the two books that he wanted with Tesco Clubcard points.

Till total £149.90

14 customers

Online orders: 2

Books found: 2

Nicky was in once again. The weather has turned and is now damp and dreich.

The online orders are becoming fewer and fewer: possibly another problem with Monsoon.

Today was the start of Wigtown Civic Week, and Tam Dingwall, the former landlord of The Galloway, the pub directly across the square from my shop, marked the occasion by singing ‘Achy Breaky Heart’ to a small group of drizzled youths in the town square. Civic Week is one of the highlights of Wigtown’s calendar. It involves all manner of curious activities and is squarely aimed at the local population, rather than tourists. There are quizzes, activities for children (such as a muddy nature walk on the salt-marsh), a raft race and all sorts of small town festivities, including the slightly anachronistic crowning of the Wigtown Princess. There are prizes for all manner of wonderful things, such as Best Decorated Toilet Roll. It feels very much like travelling back to the 1950s.

A customer asked one of his companions where the philosophy section was. He replied, ‘I don’t know, you’ll have to ask the chappie.’ Chappie? I don’t think so.

An elderly man brought in a box of books that contained a Victorian family Bible. There is little demand for these nowadays, if there ever was. This one contained a handwritten letter dated 22 February 1879 and addressed from Carnwath:

Dear Mother we write

with the greatest delight

our promise to you to fulfill

so we’re here safe and sound

on the old honoured ground

and we cannot complain very ill.

I am happy to tell

that our friends are all well

and hope you are all still the same

When Marion’s away

Now mind what I say

Take care of yourself we shall blame

Janet means to go down

To that great big town

with Aleck on Monday forenoon

She’s all ready to go

so this lets you know

She’ll be back to Carluke very soon.

Yours affectionately,

Maggie.

Old letters are not unusual things to find in books, but one written in rhyme is rare. I once bought a copy of The Seven Pillars of Wisdom that contained over a hundred letters of condolence to a widow, many of which were from people who had never met her, but whose lives had been touched by her late husband. My curiosity is always piqued by such things, and it is hard not to speculate about who these people were, both the senders and the recipients.

Till total £367.91

33 customers

Online orders: 6

Books found: 5

Laurie made it in today. Clearly a family member is on kitten duty. Shortly after she had arrived, a customer came to the counter and said, ‘Good morrow to you, sir! Would you mind, perchance, directing me towards any of your shelves which might contain any books on the subject of military history?’

The shelves were particularly untidy by the end of the day, an inevitable consequence of a multitude of children being in the shop. Some parents think that it is acceptable to let their offspring run riot around the shop, disturbing other customers and leaving a trail of devastation. Most, though, are fine and the children well behaved. There is an instinct that appears common to all boys of four years old when presented with a shelf of books, the spines neatly lined up with the edge of the shelf. They seem incapable of resisting the urge to push them back as far as they can, against the back of the bookcase. The sight of a neatly lined row of books is irresistible to small boys, and they can no more control their desire to make a mess of them than they can suppress the urge to pull a cat’s tail or jump in a puddle.

Nicky reminded me recently that she thinks that my insistence on keeping the place ordered and tidy is some form of OCD and genuinely believes that customers like piles of books all over the floor and don’t really much care for them being organised by subject or category.

Till total £223.98

21 customers

Online orders: 2

Books found: 2

Laurie was in charge again today. She came up to the office, where I was working, to tell me that a customer had brought in a print of Wigtown. It was a handsome framed print from the mid-nineteenth century and showed architectural features of the town that are no longer there. He wanted £50, which I was more than happy to give to him.

Callum and I are planning to go sailing tomorrow if the weather is good. Last year he bought a Hurley 22, a small sailing boat that claims to be four-berth, but which in reality would be uncomfortable for four small children, let alone two men, each over six feet tall.

Till total £374.96

37 customers

Online orders: 3

Books found: 2

Laurie arrived on time, but the sailing trip that Callum had planned was dependent on fine weather, and this morning it was pouring with rain, so he telephoned to say that we should postpone until it improves, so I didn’t bother to pack or get organised. The moment the sun came out, he appeared without warning, ready to go, so I asked Laurie to pack and process the random books, and tell Wilma that they’re ready for collection when she drops off the mail sacks from today’s orders.

There are gaps appearing on the shelves, now that customers have started to come out of hibernation and are spending money – the Folio section and the railway section are particularly lean.

I packed hastily and said goodbye to Laurie, and we drove to Stranraer. We set sail at 1 p.m. and headed for Ailsa Craig, an uninhabited island in the Irish Sea, where we arrived at 7 p.m. The afternoon was cloudless and sunny, with the golden-orange sun silhouetting the island as we arrived. We moored at the pier and went ashore to explore the ruined buildings and old railway. Ailsa Craig is all that remains of an ancient volcanic plug. It is a granite lump off the Ayrshire coast. In its long history it has been a refuge for Catholic recusants in the sixteenth century, and is known locally as ‘Paddy’s Milestone’, partly because it is half-way between Glasgow and Belfast, and partly because of the folkloric tradition which pitched two fighting giants against one another: one Irish, one Scottish. According to the legend, they threw rocks at one another, and Ailsa Craig was the last rock thrown.

Callum and I sat in the cockpit of his boat drinking beer until about midnight, watching as thousands of small jellyfish drifted by, occasionally disturbing the surface and making rings as though someone had dropped a pebble in the otherwise flat calm sea. I slept in one of the tiny berths at the back of the boat, which felt uncomfortably like being in a coffin.

Till total £242.49

19 customers

Online orders: 3

Books found: 3

We awoke at about 9 a.m. and went to explore the island further. We walked first to the northern foghorn, then I climbed to the summit, stopping to have a look at the castle on the way up. Callum stayed with the boat and anti-fouled the hull. I returned to the boat at about 1 p.m. and went for a swim before setting off for Lamlash. While I was at the summit of Ailsa Craig, I saw a boat motoring slowly towards Callum’s boat, as if it intended to pull up and say hello. As it drew closer, I noticed it abruptly changed course and headed towards Girvan. When I returned to the boat, Callum was inside making a cup of tea. I mentioned to him that the other boat appeared to have taken a strange turn and he explained, ‘Oh, that. After you’d headed up to the summit, I decided that I’d anti-foul the hull in the nude, since there was nobody about. I didn’t hear that boat approaching, and I was hauling myself on board to get a brush, inadvertently pointing my bare arse right at them. It was only when I got back in the water that I noticed the boat, but by that time they were gone.’