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Farewell Mr Frisby's shop
• We Shall Not See Your Like Again
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By
hazelle maria, feature writer
Wednesday,
25 October, 2006
Farewell Mr Frisby, Master Butcher – We shall not see your like again.
Once all butcher’s shops were like this – the black and white tiled floor, daily strewn with fresh sawdust, the veined marble display slabs, the dark brown mahogany cash desk, the cast iron safe in the corner, the white tiled walls, crazed now with age, decorated with a blue relief of grazing cattle.
Mr Frisby has been the village butcher in St Margaret’s in south west London forever. Once there was a Mrs Frisby behind the cash desk, with her neat light brown permed here, trim in a blue checked nylon overall, but she hasn’t been there for a long time. For many years now it has just been Mr Frisby, a spry spare man in a long white apron with a small round bald head, a prominent nose and slightly receding chin, red face and an expression like a startled carp. He must be well into his 80s now, kept nimble by whisking up and down the cast iron spiral stair case to his cold store in the cellar below the street.
Now the shop is closed, unopened post litters its floor and dust decorates the green plastic parsley strips which decorated the meat trays. Soon the developers will move in and all traces of the last independent butcher in the neighbourhood will be swept away, Another little piece of of history gone.
Meanwhile Mr Frisby has retired to a small flat down the road. Goodbye Mr Frisby, Have a happy retirement. We shall miss you, and your butcher’s shop in St Margaret’s.
ONthe Lam 2006
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