Secondhand rows

Rows of books, that is, and not all second hand - many are remainders, hardbacks superceded by the paperback, and publishers' overstocks - all crammed into a one-up, one-down rat-hole of a space that smells of damp and dust and barely has passing room in the aisles.

It's one of my favourite browsing venues in Cardigan and I've bought countless books here over the years. I was gutted today to learn that it's to close in October. The couple who run the business want to retire to do other things and they don't own the premises.They'll be selling off the stock.

I've always chatted with this friendly bookseller (whose name I don't even know) mostly about our offspring through school, university and travels, and I found particularly endearing the fact that as her family liked to cuddle up together her husband built a bed that would accommodate them all. Besides that she knows her stock so if you're looking for something in particular she can tell you if she has it and where.

I felt the impending loss called for a little spree so I bought five books: a history of inshore fishing in Wales, another on lead and silver mining in Ceredigion, a photographic study of the Forest of Dean by the incomparable Fay Godwin, a Dover book of 18th century animal illustrations and the 2010 biography of Emily Dickenson and her family, Lives Like Loaded Guns by Lyndall Gordon. That lot came to under £20. I expect I'll be back for more before the shop closes for good. What a sad day that will be.