“Small and growing businesses are the beating heart of our economy and the soul of our communities.” (Mary Portas)

I’ve finished at work now and my leaving gift was bookshop.org vouchers (to quote my colleague: “Tell me what you want so you don’t get some rubbish you’ll never use” 😀 ) which of course I started spending the same day! My first purchase was two novellas because it is #NovNov after all, hosted by hosted by Cathy and Bookish Beck.

It was Susan’s review of A Room Above a Shop by Anthony Shapland (2025) which made it a must-read for me, and my astronomical expectations were met entirely. It’s a beautifully written, carefully observed and deeply moving novel.

M has inherited a hardware shop from his father. Part of the place for years and providing a community service, everyone knows who he is without knowing him at all.

“Keeping shop hours, he is the ear of the village, the listener. They never register his life at all, upstairs in that one room.”

He meets B, somewhat younger than him, in the pub, and invites him to meet on Carn Bugail on New Year’s Eve.

“He’s not quite sure what he’s walking towards. A pulling and pushing – his instinct says go; his anxiety says stay. Either choice feels wrong. He can’t not act.”

They know it is the start of something, they know there is attraction between them, but they live in a small community, still reeling from miners’ strikes and with increasing homophobia driven by a fear of a new illness, HIV.

“Paid work is fragile, rare. Divisions still run deep; picket-angry graffiti still visible, disloyal homes shunned. Pockets are empty, borrowing and mending and patching. Everything feels temporary. Desperate.”

When B takes a job at M’s shop and moves into the spare space upstairs, little more than a cupboard but useful for appearances’ sake, they build a life together. But it is a hidden life which takes place behind closed doors, and runs beneath the performance they undertake each day as colleagues in the shop. It is both familiar and filled with tension.

“This hill is a bright map of his childhood. A play track for stunt bikes, a den, a place to be lost, to disappear with siblings. Or away from them. A place to loiter and mitch dull school days out until the bell. The place to be alone with this feeling that he’s different to the others.”

Shapland achieves something remarkable in just 145 pages, with plenty of space on the page. He crafts a fully realised portrait of two people and their relationship within a clearly evoked setting. The historical details are light touches, just enough to give a flavour of the time and certainly enough to build the pressure that M and B are living under.

His writing is incredibly precise, so although the story is short, it is not a quick read. Every single word carries its full weight to create beautiful sentences. I found myself double-checking the author bio to see if he was poet as he writes with such sparse care, but apparently not.

A Room Above a Shop is so moving. Witnessing the silences that surround M and B, the way they are unable to make the most everyday, harmless expressions of love and care towards one another, or to have their relationship acknowledged by anyone other than themselves, is quietly devastating.

“No word or deed reaches the ground from this floating platform, on this mattress, this raft, on this ocean adrift in the afternoon sun. This room lightly tethered by stairs.”

To end, a scene of coming out in a 1980s Welsh mining village from Pride, and apparently pretty accurate of the real-life person’s experience:

32 thoughts on ““Small and growing businesses are the beating heart of our economy and the soul of our communities.” (Mary Portas)

  1. I was delighted when I spotted your post in my Reader and even more so when I read your first paragraph. I’m so glad you loved this one as much as I did. I had a similar reacton, convinced Shapland must be a poet, but I believe he’s a painter which may explain that precision. Bookshop.org vouchers well spent. Wishing you luck in what ever comes next.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks so much for alerting me to this wonderful novella Susan! I re-read your post after I’d written this and realised we’d both thought he was possibly a poet. As you say, painting may be why he’s such a careful observer and so precise in the words he chooses. I’m looking forward to seeing what he writes next.

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  2. I haven’t been very regular in my posts or blog reading these past few months and so have missed out on your job change news (will go back and catch up soon). All the very best with your next assignment! And I agree with Susan, a perfect gift and which you are spending well.

    This sounds subtle and excellently done; your praise of the writing and restraint the author appears to have employed makes me want to look this one up. I’d also missed Susan’s review of this, so am going to head there as well.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks so much Mallika! I’m definitely enjoying spending my gift 🙂

      He really is so restrained in his style and it works so well with the story,; the constant restraint the characters are living under. I hope you enjoy this if you read it.

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  3. I giggled at the idea of you re-checking the bio, as if somehow his life experience would have changed between checks (and been updated on your personal copy). Yes, I’ve done this too, so I’m allowed to giggle, eh? This sounds very tender and moving. (No sign of this one here, yet, but I will keep an eye.)

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  5. I’ve picked this one up a couple of times, and I’m a bit unsure – the quotes you’ve put feel quite hard to get through, but maybe once you’re in the rhythm of the novel, it works? You’ve certainly made it sound like a big success!

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    • It’s definitely a dense read, the writing is so precise that it takes longer to read than a more flowing style, for sure. But I didn’t find it heavy-going, if that makes sense? Once you’re used to the voice, it’s very readable.

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