sad departure

Over the years I've become a loyal customer of the Gloucester Road Oxfam bookstore. Five minutes from work, it was the perfect lunch break, especially when paired with an epicurean treat from Jakob's next door. I would go ever other week, allowing just enough time for a thorough shake-up of the shelves and a restocking of the staff favourites section. I hardly ever returned empty-handed.

The store was far from a regular charity shop. It restricted itself to books – with a few CDs and videos thrown in for variety – and the books were expertly organized and stocked. The presentation on the shelves was second to no commercial bookseller. What was on the shelves was obviously limited by what the neighbors left on its threshold, but the good people of Kensington are avid and discerning readers, and real treasures popped up every now and then.

The staff were a curious lot; maybe that's to be expected from volunteers. The largest contingent were french speakers, mirroring the ubiquity of that tongue in the borough. Then there were a few old ladies speaking with posh accents and struggling mightily with the electronic till. These were pleasant to deal with, their smiles always radiating charity and preciousness.

One salesperson was different from all the others, shockingly so. He looked as if he had found shelter in the bookstore from the foul weather of the English winter, abandoning his rain-soaked cardboard-box home down the street for the luxury of warmth and dryness. He smelled the vagrant, too, displacing the musty scent of classic literature with his malodor of rough nights out. He was the grumpiest person in the store, but even he sold me books with ease.

The Gloucester Road Oxfam closed its doors for good last week. It didn't come as a surprise; the tragedy had been a while in the making, with prices slashed at the beginning of January and good books going for a pound by March. There was no sign in the door explaining the reasons, and I didn't ask, but a charity shop can not go out of business, can it? Maybe there's a greedy landlord who imagines a higher rent from the luxury poodle grooming salon that might take over the lease.

Whatever succeeds the Oxfam, it will not make up for the loss, and while there are other charity bookshops in town, none is as clean, stylish, rich and rewarding. None is, in other words, as posh as Kensington.