When one store closes, another store opens

A profoundly felt eulogy for a greengrocers in Ashburton, Devon

Last weekend my local fruit and veg shop closed its door for the last time. Mike and Jonathon Tidball ran the business from the early 80s, and a bit of research revealed that two previous generations of Tidballs ran the grocers in a nearby town. I was deeply sad – it represented the end of an era. It was a quiet ending – but many townsfolk had clearly been in with Thank You and Happy Retirement cards. I posted something on the Ashburton town Facebook page about my sadness at its passing, and well over a hundred people reacted to the post and comments were universally positive. I bet not many of us told the owners when we could how much we appreciated their shop when we went in to buy a couple of onions and a few sprigs of flat leaf parsley.

There was an unfortunate juxtaposition. That same weekend, the Co-op opened an out-of-town branch. Now that made me terrified. I envisaged the beating heart of this wonderful town being violently ripped out. And I’m not normally a drama queen.

The small town in question is Ashburton, Devon, estimated population 4,224, nestling just inside Dartmoor National Park. I fell in love with it on my first visit, 31 years ago – I loved the history, the architecture, the funky music venue, and its completeness – everything anyone could want is here. It seems the Universe wanted me to move here from London, as I got the job I didn’t apply for, the rented cottage that wasn’t advertised, and a year later, bought a house that wasn’t for sale - from the barman at one of the pubs. I’m not the only person to love it. This year Ashburton was named by Muddy Stilettos and The Times as one of the best places to live in the South West (the locals weren’t too pleased about that as it’s already hard enough to rent or buy a property here). In those listings, it was praised for ‘its strong community spirit, thriving high street, independent vibe, location as the gateway to Dartmoor, and its balance of countryside calm and modern convenience’. Articles went on to describe the vibrant arts and culture scene, the beautiful period architecture, and food being at the heart of life in the town, with a cookery school, artisan bakery, delis and farm shops. The Times added ‘a wealth of independent shops and things to do mean locals need never go elsewhere for provisions.’

Quite. But then the fruit and veg shop closed. If anyone reading this has an inclination to open an upmarket greengrocers, FFS come here – there’s a need for you, now the Tidballs have gone. Vegetables for your meal are essential. Fruit for your breakfast, your kids, and your snacks are vital to others. I dance to the seasonal rhythm of produce. I’ve always made a January cake – Seville Orange and Forced Rhubarb with polenta. A bright psychedelic pop of colour in the darkness. Blood oranges in February. Awaiting the ‘broad bean equinox’ in March when the first Spanish pods appear. OMG – the first sign of English asparagus! I never buy the imported stuff. £6.95 for the first bunch in Tidballs – yes! I’m your woman! I want it! As summer rolls on there’s the Cornish early or Jersey Royal new potatoes, fresh peas, the first English strawberries, the return of local tomatoes with taste, the sheer divinity of a punnet of gooseberries, the drooling delight of the first damsons, the first punnet of Scottish raspberries, the local Vicky Ps (Victoria Plums)! In September those gorgeous fresh skinny parsnips, then the swede, the cavolo nero, the….. Seriously – I should have been a chef or gone into hospitality. I should at least have a houseful of folk to cook for.

Others will miss Tidballs even more than me. You see, I’ve noticed as I age, many of us who live alone in Ashburton walk into town once or twice daily, or we get the town bus. Buying some tomatoes and a pint of milk (I’ll get back to the Co-op later) costs us nothing we wouldn’t have spent anyway, gets us out of the house, gives us some exercise and we have some social connection – we greet our ‘nodding acquaintances’ on the street, and have a brief chat in the shop with storeholders who know our preferences and our joys. And that’s those of us who are mobile.

Tidballs started doing deliveries to isolated older people during Covid and never stopped. They didn’t make a thing of it – they just quietly did it as a community service. As for local businesses - I’ve frequently been in Tidballs when a member of staff from the deli or one of the restaurants or the local cookery school have been in to buy something on account. Vegetables. Fruit. Eggs. Smiles. Friendliness. When something so fundamental in your life disappears, you feel it. As I walked past this evening, the premises are becoming yet another retail space filled with crap house clearance furniture under a delusion of the ‘antiques’ label. Not at all useful. I’m not stuck in the past, but in this case the old was preferable.

This is a eulogy – but I’m not going to make the mistake of “sainting” something after it’s died. It wasn’t a ‘perfect’ fruit and veg shop. It wasn’t the cheapest place to buy some items. I’ve been to ‘better’ fruit and veg shops with a wider range of produce as well as local stuff. I’ve seen more appealing layouts. Some people thought they were archaic, only taking cash. Cash only – now that’s a thing. Everyone in Ashburton had cash in their purse because of Tidballs. That means being able to buy a Big Issue, put some coins in the Sally Army tin, appreciate the busker filling the town with wonderful oboe and sax music. There’s a nearby seaside ‘cash preferred town’ – Teignmouth. In the race to digitise, we’re losing the advantages to a cash economy for local businesses.

And now, approaching old age rapidly, I have been appreciating living somewhere where I could buy 95% of the things I want or need without getting in a car or resorting to the internet. I have truly been appreciating our local businesses – and Tidballs fruit and veg has to top the list, in the quietest of ways.

So let’s get onto the Co-op. We’ve got a Co-op right in the centre of town. Before that it was a Somerfields – in fact the Somerfields with the highest turnover per square metre in the country. But – for the Co-op - it’s not ideal. The building is at least Grade 2 listed. It used to be a gaming house when Ashburton was on the main coaching route between London and Plymouth. The tile work above the door is unique, showing the four suits of a pack of cards. You can’t do much to ‘improve’ a listed building. Deliveries are a nightmare – access to the rear of the store is on a narrow lane, and lorries are frequently unable to park at the front. The aisles are so narrow getting delivery trolleys from front to pack is hazardous. Sometimes we customers have to queue, squeezed together. But it’s the Co-op rhythm – a chance to chat, to share the town vibe. At least 10 years ago, the Co-op tried to open an edge-of-town alternative. We, the townsfolk, protested with a petition attracting hundreds (in a town of only 4,000 people) of signatures. This time they’ve been sneaky. They promised not to shut the in-town branch (‘For at least X months….’) and have opened the out-of-town branch. With a ‘grand opening’ attended by town officials. I’m on to you – but how many others are?

Why am I so strongly affected? To be honest, I’m scared. I’m frightened the heart is being ripped out of my town. If our in-town supermarket closes, and we can’t buy fresh fruit and veg as easily, will the butchers go? And the deli? And the fishmongers? I don’t want Ashburton to become a parody of the town I fell in love with. I want it to remain fit-for-purpose, a living community, a healthy and heart-full place. Support your local shops. Greet people on the street. Only order from Ocado or shop at a megastore once a month. Stay local. Keep your heart open. Let’s not lose our humanity. Let’s keep elders in our community healthy, connected, and vibrant.

It started with a fruit and veg shop. But it became so much more.

A postscript – a happier ending than I anticipated. We’ve got a wholefoods shop in Ashburton, but it’s in a tucked-away location and not everyone is aware it’s there. If you just glanced in the entrance of the shop you’d never know about its hidden treasure. The owner, Fiona, has expanded the premises so there’s now a sizeable chilled room at the back for fresh produce. Good timing! She sources most of it locally, and it’s as plastic-free as it can be. I thought I was going to plead for an AoA member to open a gourmet greengrocers in town but it looks like there’s no need for now – we can still get fruit and veg after all…