There’s a little shop in Hexham that I love more than any other. Because even though the person I love most thinks she loved it first. She didn’t.
Last Sunday, Izobel and I went to the secret sweetshop. As we queued, two pound coins grew hot in her hand.
The shop is too small.
It hasn’t updated in 50 years.
Shelves heave.
It’s slow to get served.
You must learn odd opening times to get in.
And a narrow, shadowy arch keeps it a secret.
These are 6 reasons that a 50odd-year-old me dislikes retail. They are the same 6 reasons that an 8-year-old Izobel loves it. And they are the same 6 reasons that the 8-year-old me, stood silently alongside Izobel last Sunday, loved it too.
There’s a little shop in Hexham that I love more than any other. Because even though the person I love most thinks she loved it first. She didn’t.