In 2004, when Paul Quarrie first arrived at 50 Berkeley Square, he knew he was amongst friends when Ed Maggs remarked that "you don't have to retire, you can just drop dead on the stairs." Fortunately, the lift at Bedford Square — the one Paul rode to the top floor for our interview — means no one need take that chance.
Preparing to meet PQ (as he is known to colleagues) was intimidating. He is a true rarity: polyglot, librarian, lecturer, author and supremely talented bookseller, with few peers in early Continental books and manuscripts. Soon after he greeted me, however, I learned that he was a fellow Northerner, and all misplaced apprehension lifted.
Squeezing between two rows of shelves, we made our way to the back of his office, where the space opens onto a small desk, a set of drawers and a sash window overlooking the Bedford Square gardens. I wedged a foldaway chair between a stack of boxes and a shelving unit. PQ sat opposite, flanked by piles of books and paperwork. When I first proposed we meet in his office, he replied rather characteristically: "If you mean the room on the top floor next to Accounts, where I am seated in the middle of the Reference Library, that's fine by me."