Read Spotted Pigs and Green Tomatoes Online
Authors: Rosie Boycott
What I didn't know then was that while those calls were going unanswered, I was rekindling a friendship which would, in due
course, lead to this moment: leaning against a tree in a Somerset wood, watching the park glisten in the moonlight and listening
to Fat-Boy rustling through the beech hedge in search of an old tennis ball, as he never considers it too late in the day
for another game of catch.
The Ilminster Tesco opened its doors on 5 November, four years to the day after Dad died, which might help explain the utter
bleakness I woke up to that morning. It was misty in the park, but not an exciting mist with the clear sign of sunlight hiding
behind its tendrils. This was grey, cold, and definitely wintry.
There weren't many people outside the store when I got there at nine-thirty; just Bryan Ferris, Patricia Fry-Foley, Henry
Best and David Gordon, an ex-councillor who works tirelessly for local concerns. He marched in from the car park wearing a
dark-blue suit with a red pin-stripe, a bowler hat and a neatly rolled umbrella. On his back, he'd pinned a hand-lettered
sign saying: 'Tescopoly . . . Taking over a high street near you. Today.' He looked like an undertaker. Patricia was wearing
a poppy, which was a further reminder of Dad as we buried him on 11
November with a Union Jack covering his coffin.
The finished building is horribly ugly - just a yellow brick box, with no windows at all on the south, west and east sides
with only the north side open to the world. I noticed that the large flat, grey roof could have easily accommodated solar
panels. You enter it from the north, via a narrow path between a wall and the front door. The car park stretches out behind,
smaller now since Tesco won a further planning battle when they announced that they wanted to move the store fifteen feet
into the agreed parking area - to provide more space for trucks to turn around. It
meant one more victory for big business.
Standing around with mikes on big booms covered with furry material, members of the local press eagerly awaited the big story.
There were almost as many of them as there were of us, and they interviewed each of us in turn. Carol Goodall, the mayor,
arrived and went into the store. By five-to-ten there was quite a crowd outside. Our little band - now swelled to some eighteen
people, went and stood between the well-wishers and the store, whereupon a number of them walked around us to get closer to
the shop, tuttutting with annoyance about our presence. And indeed, there's no doubt we were spoiling the party.
Tesco had put out a blue and yellow carpet and there were big trays filled with glasses of champagne, set out on tables just
inside the store. A cheap-looking plastic ribbon was stretched across the entrance and behind it were school children from
Swanmead and Greenfield schools. The bearded manager had four outsized cardboard cheques under his arm: two for £750 to give
to the children, one for the police and one for the mayor. All the children were given plastic bags containing four donuts.
At ten o'clock sharp, Carol cut the ribbon and the store was declared open. Everyone rushed inside to drink the booze and
eat the snacks. We were still standing outside, where there was a wooden barrier hiding the new loos, Tesco's 'gift' to our
town.
'If they'd been open I would have gone and had a celebratory pee,' said Henry dolefully. One of the reasons why I like Henry
so much is that he reminds me of my father - eccentric, kind and passionate about what he believes in. By ten-fifteen, it
was all over and we adjourned to find coffee. With one snip of a ribbon, we had become just another town with a superstore
in its midst.
Four months later, on an astonishingly sunny mid-February day, I went to ask the town's traders what effect Tesco had had
on them. The worst hit was one major retailer whose takings had reduced by a dramatic forty-to-fifty percent. In
the evening hours, the store was like a ghost town and although they haven't had to layoff any staff as yet, unless something
miraculous happens, cuts will surely have to come. All the shopkeepers I spoke to said it was hard to decide what had affected
the town more - the opening of Tesco or the new one-way system. Silver Street, where most of the shops are located, is still
buzzing with people at the weekends, but weekdays are decidedly quiet. There used to be tussles to find parking spaces, but
those days have gone, according to Clinton Bonner, who admits to a slight loss of trade at the beginning of the week, but
more custom than usual at the end of the week. Boots has fared reasonably well, but that might be because they have refitted
the store and widened their stock range.
Many stores have changed their look, smartening up as they compete for trade, but the only business which has actually benefited
from the advent of Tesco is the pet store, Paws, located in a small square through which you have to walk if you want to reach
the town from the Tesco car park. Andrew Broom, the manager, reports trading up by fifteen-to-twenty percent, a success achieved
by the increased footfall as well as by an aggressive marketing strategy which specifically targets the supermarket: he sells
the same brand of pet food but at a lower price and lets his customers know about it. This strategy has raised both their
profile and their earnings.
The owner of the bookstore, Chris Chapman, has no worries whatsoever about Tesco infringing on him. 'Tesco customers don't
read', he told me. Most of his customers have special interests; they're not looking for the new John Grisham. Just that week
he'd ordered books on subjects as diverse as Aids in the twenty-first century, living and working in Switzerland and a set
of road maps of Sri Lanka. Chris reckons that he can get any book into his store within twenty-four hours of the order being
placed.
Bryan and Elizabeth report that the footfall is down in Lane's Garden Store, but again, they believe that's mostly due to
the oneway system, which has the effect of dividing the town in two, always favouring those whose final destination is the
Tesco car park.
There is a pleasurable gossip running around amongst the Ilminster traders: Tesco isn't doing as well as was expected; they
have already laid off staff and many people who do tend to go to superstores for their goods still go to Chard, as the Ilminster
Tesco is just a bigger version of Tesco Metro, with disappointing stock. No wonder Charlie couldn't find the caraway seeds
which I needed in order to cook a Moro recipe. After failing to find them in the Co-op he set off to Tesco, but they didn't
have them either. They were to be found, though, in the health-food store which adjoins the chemists. Ilminster hasn't taken
the arrival of Tesco lying down. There's a new monthly farmer's market, held in the town square, and this summer there are
plans for a four-day festival which will include concerts, an international barbecue competition, a flower festival in the
church and a one-day street market. My friend, John Rendell finally retired from running his greengrocer's and, even though
we now have a supermarket, the new owner has continued selling flowers and vegetables and catering for the town's weddings
and funerals. Before John shut up shop for the last time, he created a dazzling display for the funeral of Clinton Bonner's
father, Mike, who died suddenly in October at the age of sixty-nine. The funeral was attended by over six-hundred people who
packed out the minster on a Monday afternoon.
I don't think that the arrival of Tesco will sound the death knell for the shops of Ilminster, but it is hard to see that
it has done anyone any good. The one-way system, which only exists to smooth the path of the supermarket, has definitely made
our small high street a less bustling and vibrant place. It pleases me that Tesco is not doing well. Maybe people now realise
that supermarkets are not doing us a kindness with their pile-it-high, sell-it-cheap philosophy, which pretends to be the
consumers' friend. These days, how you shop is as defining as how you dress and shopping in a supermarket has become an ethical
decision.
We
like the idea of the 'cheapest option', but these cheapest options come at a price. In the worst cases, it means no bookstores,
butchers, bakers and greengrocers and that is no option at all.
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