On July 16, Melbourne went into another lockdown. The shop had been open for barely two weeks.
I posted the new hours that same day: “Monday–Saturday: 1pm–3pm (Click and Collect orders). Sunday: Closed.” Free local delivery for postcodes 3195, 3196, and 3197. Deliveries out after 3pm. Phone or text for orders. It wasn't the grand opening I had imagined, but it was something.
Every afternoon, I packed books into bags, loaded them into the car, and drove around Chelsea, Edithvale, and Aspendale. Leaving parcels on doorsteps, waving from a safe distance. “Thank you for your great delivery service today. So happy Chelsea has a bookshop,” someone messaged. That one message made the whole thing worth it.
I spent the lockdown evenings reading. Emma Batchelor's Now That I See You was my first lockdown read. “Life is messy, sometimes the relationships you think will sustain you end up crushing you instead,” I wrote. Then came the deliberation over what to read next The Dictionary of Lost Words, The Midnight Library, Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows. Each book a small escape.
With no foot traffic allowed inside, the window became the shop. I spent hours dressing and redressing it. Books on display, the big Buddha statue keeping watch, furniture, cushions from Ink & Spindle. People stopped on their way to get coffee next door. They peered in, took photos, messaged me about what they saw. “Can't wait for you to open again,” someone commented. “Eyeing the Mark Brandi book.”
I started going in late just to photograph the window at night, the glow of the lights against the dark street. It felt like a lighthouse.
A delivery of the Little People, Big Dreams series arrived Aretha Franklin, David Bowie, Ella Fitzgerald, Stevie Wonder. Bright, bold covers that made even the lockdown feel a little less heavy. The Colours book with its watercolour landscapes and colour wheels was another bright spot. $19.99, free local delivery.
I built a new book nook in the back, photographed the bookshelf against the bare brick wall. “I love the bookshelf against the bare brick wall,” someone said. Me too. It felt honest.
By July 27, the end of lockdown was in sight. “Looking forward to opening the bookshop tomorrow,” I posted. When the doors finally opened again on July 28, it was a relief. “It's good to be back in the store.”
People came. They browsed, they chatted, they bought books. The sun even came out for a while. A delivery of reading copies arrived from Allen & Unwin parcels for the bookseller. Publishers send these out so booksellers can read and recommend upcoming titles before publication. It is one of the best parts of the job getting to discover a book months before anyone else and know exactly which customer to hand it to. The Buddha statue in the window found a new home. “We wish him and his new owners well.”
The shop had survived its first lockdown. There would be more ahead, but we had figured out how to do this. Books would find their readers, one doorstep delivery at a time.