The shop was perfect…small and intimate. The plaque at the entrance to the arcade, was dated 1924. Polished timber floors, lead light windows facing the arcade’s terrazzo floor; decorative floral mouldings on the pilasters…I was in antique heaven.
I breathed in the smell of original timbers, and something else…old books. This had been an Indie Bookshop specialising in ancient Tomes. Now those same shelves would be filled with shoes…shoes of all kinds, colour and sizes.
For shoes provided a window to ones personality traits and political beliefs…and I was a writer disguised as a shoe-shop owner, looking for a story.