Pilkington & Son

Inside was also a surprise. On my side of a tall, narrow counter there would only be room enough for three slim customers. Perched on a high stool behind the counter was a small, bird-like, grey haired lady who asked, "How can we help you."

I told her what I required and she wrote the details on the back of a used envelope which she took from a small stack on the counter. Then, with a gentle tinkle of the small, silver bell which sat beside the pile of envelopes, she said, "Maude will get these for you. It will only take a few minutes."

A tall, thickset woman who was, I suppose, around the same age as Miss Pilkington, appeared from amongst the bays of shelving stacked with sheet music and read the envelope.

"Yes. We have all these. Won't be a tic."

"I don't know what I would do without Maude. She has an encyclopaedic knowledge of what we have in stock and just where to find it."

Maude was back within five minutes with the four pieces I required and Miss Pilkington calculated the cost. When I offered my credit card she said apologetically, "I'm afraid we don't accept credit cards."

"And I'm afraid I don't have that much cash on me."

"That's not a problem. We will open a monthly account for you which you can pay directly to our bank account. In fact, we would prefer it that way." It was as though she didn't want the service she provided soiled by the exchange of money.

And so began my association with Pilkington & Son. I dealt with Miss Pilkington and Maude mostly by telephone but, even if there was nothing I particularly needed, I would call on my infrequent visits to London and ask, "Anything new that may interest me?"

There rarely was anything of interest as Miss Pilkington refused to consider as proper music anything written by a composer who had not been dead for at least fifty years and declined to stock anything published 'in that dreadful United States'. Fortunately, in both cases, she would grudgingly order it in for me.

Our relationship changed the day I panted in with a couple of urgent requests a few minutes before they were due to close for lunch. As usual, Miss Pilkington wrote the details on the back of an envelope but, before ringing her little bell, glanced at her watch.

"Maude is about to go upstairs and prepare lunch. Would you like to join us?'

It would have been churlish to refuse. I waited while she locked the door then followed her upstairs. It was a simple lunch -- ham, cheese, a crusty loaf and a cup of tea. In this more relaxed atmosphere I was able to tell them that I would be returning to New Zealand in a few weeks and asked if they would continue to supply me by mail as my kind of sheet music is hard to get there.

"Of course, of course."

"And if you ever get as far as New Zealand you must come and visit."

On the long flight home to Wellington, I was drowsily reviewing my time in England when I realised I did not know Miss Pilkington's first name or Maude's surname. My ignorance was partly remedied by the note which accompanied my initial mail order. It was signed 'Beryl Pilkington'. We continued an intermittent correspondence which occasionally touched on the personal as well as details of the music until I received a brochure announcing that Pilkington & Son was closing and the stock was being transferred to a mail order business in Sheffield. In an attached note Beryl Pilkington wrote:

Maude and I are looking forward to being able to accept your kind offer to visit. We would like to use Wellington as the departure point for the last leg of our round the world trip visiting former customers in Canada, Australia and, if convenient, you in New Zealand. We will let you have full details of our itinerary when it is finalised.

What could I say? In my reply, I hope I sounded more enthusiastic than I actually am about the prospect of their visit. I plan to send them off on some sightseeing tours and I will have two concerts while they are here -- one as soloist in the Mozart Flute and Harp Concerto with the local orchestra and the other with the wind quintet I formed on my return from England which, apart from one of my own pieces, will be playing from scores purchased from Pilkington & Son. I can't recall ever hearing either of the ladies mention actually listening to music so I will be interested in their reactions.