The little shop of hardbacks . . . and some paperbacks too

Reporter: LEWIS JONES
Date published: 10 May 2010


LEWIS JONES chats to Nancy Kearney, whose love of books inspired her to buy a traditional bookshop in Uppermill.

“TO Rose, with all good wishes for Christmas 1943, Jack”, reads the first page of a pocket-sized, leaf-green covered book.

The imagination can only ponder Jack’s surroundings during the Second World War, when he lovingly jotted his message inside the “County Churches of Suffolk”.

But such a personal stamp of history is not a rarity in Saddleworth’s Moorland Books. A place where Katie Price’s autobiography, “A Whole New World”, sits happily alongside “What Katie Did Next” (the Susan Coolidge 1886 children’s book — not a transcript of Jordan’s ITV2 show).

Set in a 16th century farmhouse in Smithy Lane, Uppermill, the quaint shop is stacked from floor to ceiling with second-hand, out of print and subject specific books, waiting to be discovered.

“Older customers will come in and buy these sorts of books because they were bought them by their grandparents when they were young, and they still buy them now,” says the owner, Nancy Kearney.

Nancy bought the business with a friend in 2006, almost a quarter of a century after the shop’s opening day in 1982. Although inexperienced at running a business, the owner says it was her own love of books that inspired her.

“When I was a student I used to read and read and didn’t get my work done, although I’ve still had a lot to learn in the four years since I’ve had the business,” she says.

“It’s a traditional bookshop and we try to keep it that way, we’ve changed a couple of things here and there but it is pretty much the same as it always has been.”

The multicoloured book spines light the walls surrounding the old piano sitting in the centre of the room. The enthusiastic owner bought it to practice on during quiet periods but admits that it rarely gets played.

“You can’t just sit here with a cigarette in one hand and paper in the other like a lot of people think. We go that extra mile, we care for the books,” says Nancy.

This is starkly apparent as she sits behind the counter, with a can of book-cloth cleaner in one hand and a small rag in the other. The rosy red cover of an antique novel comes alive under her fingers.

“If a customer can’t find what they want they can ask, we’ll look out for it or reserve something for a few weeks until they next visit. That personal touch is something the supermarkets can’t compete with,” says Nancy.

Meanwhile her partner, Keith, shuffles around the shelves, straightening and reordering the mass of books. In his own words he’s there to “do the tall work”, rearranging and displaying books on the top shelf, just out of Nancy’s reach.

His enthusiasm for the business is equally evident.

“One customer fell off his chair when we rang him eight months later and told him we had found the classic car book he was looking for. He thought it was great,” he beams.

The bell on the door chimes as an elderly couple step into the cosy collection of treasures, asking for a book on drawing.

Nancy obliges as she takes the few paces to the corner where the said books are stocked, pulling a few off the shelf as recommendations.

Minutes later, after noticing the customer may be struggling, Nancy produces a folded, gardener’s knee pad from behind the stacked high counter. “It can be really hard, kneeling down on the floor,” she says as she passes the aid to the grateful man.

It is this type of personal service that the couple hope will keep customers coming back to the shop again and again.

From the calligraphy-style, hand-written shelf references to the ever-changing, themed window displays, the shop exudes personality.

The ability to open several books to see 100-year-old notes written by previous owners, or certificates from a church presentation pasted on the first page of a novel, is what gives this place its soul.

Yet the pair are conscious of the competition from supermarket giants and the ever-increasing role of the internet in book sales.

Nancy confesses that they sell fewer paperbacks now, partly she presumes due to the fact that the leading supermarkets can sell them so cheap.

But positivity is the name of the game at Moorland.

“We’re here and we’re hoping to stay, there are less and less places like this now. We’d be silly and arrogant not to worry about the recession, but we’re just hoping we can weather the storm,” says Nancy.

Not everything stocked in the shop is a classic, however. The cheeky “Mr Men” pile near the till squeeze up against a vintage Meccano magazine from 1968.

Although certain quirks like this may bring a touch of the unusual to Moorland Books, Nancy’s feet are firmly stuck on the traditional ground. And it’s all the better for it. s