Wednesday, August 27, 2008
They want to tear down St. Marples’ in Laverstone. Now this isn’t actually a church, although it’s gothic enough to be one and it’s been empty for umpty years – long before Harold became Aware at least – and was condemned last year.
It occupies a prime piece of brownsite, ripe for a new shipping centre or office block. I think it would be a shame to lose all that stone for the sake a some brick and glass affair.
I asked Harold what he thought about it and he just shrugged. “It’s a bit of an eyesore,” he said, referring to the boarded up windows and the mass of graffiti that covered it to a height of eight feet. “I can’t see anyone wanting to save it much.”
“But if everyone cares about it just a little bit,” I said, “then everyone’s ‘not much’ might be enough to save it.”
“You think?” Harold stared out of the window where you could just catch a glimpse of it over the market stalls. “Why don’t you just work your magic fingers and make it uncondemned?”
“I could, Harold, but where’s the profit in that? That’s like working for nothing.”
“How much profit do you need?”
I scrunched my face up “Half a dozen major sins. Just one, if it’s mortal.”
Harold shook his head. “Still…”
I had to play my ace card. “It would make a fantastic bookshop.”
He looked out at it again. “Nah,” he said. It’d cost us a fortune and we wouldn’t have the facilities we have here. The gallery, the scriptorium and the Stack.”
I looked at it again. I’ve never actually been inside it. Perhaps it’s time I had a look.