Maurice Braithwaite is one of the last of the old-school shopkeepers. Neatly combed hair, maroon Arkwright-style coat, an anecdote for every occasion and a shop where possibly only he knows where everything is.
But there’s a veritable sense of sadness on Hale’s ‘tree streets’ and beyond this week. M & B Braithwaite, the bike shop Maurice opened with his dad Bert 53 years ago, is closing down.
While Altrincham has developed at break-neck speed over the years, here’s a corner shop that has stood reassuringly still, a perfectly preserved relic of an earlier, simpler age before the superstores barged in.
Now 77, Maurice has decided to put his feet up for a life of “posh luxury” in a Timperley bungalow with his wife of 40 years, Sylvia. “I’ll miss the adulation, the job satisfaction and the problem-solving,” he says, “but it’ll be nice to have clean hands again.”
Below: Inside M & B Braithwaites
Maurice has lived in Hale “man and boy”, being born just a street away on Beech Road. An Altrincham Grammar schoolboy, he spent three years as a RAF corporal based in Cyprus during the Suez War – “I got my medal,” he says – before him and his dad’s interest in motorbikes led to them going into business together.
It had been used as a bike shop since ’47, but when the owner suffered a heart attack, Bert and his son spied an opportunity to take it over. Most of the houses on the street were around £800 at the time, but this prime, corner three-bed was a stratospheric £3,000. The mortgage application was duly rejected.
But not to be put off, the Braithwaites organised a meeting with the owners. At the time Maurice’s wages were £9 a week, so he made an offer.
“We gave the owner a deposit that enabled him to buy the house he wanted to move into,” said Maurice, “and I said, I tell you what, I’ll give you five quid a week for five years. They agreed – I’ve still got the weekly receipts. They trusted my folks and me.”
Bert ran the shop – which in the early days also repaired motorbikes – while Maurice worked elsewhere during the day and helped out in the evening. “I used to phone him up and ask him what spares he wanted,” he remembers. “I’d buy the spares, come home, do the repairs, go courting, come home, collapse on the bed, wake up in the same position and then go to sleep in the toilets at work. It was an 18-hour day for years.”
Below: Maurice on his shop doorstep
Bert died in 1975, and Maurice has worked in the shop alone since then. “I’ve never fallen out with anyone, because there’s only been me here!” he says.
He says the job has kept him young – “it’s the customers that have turned my hair grey” – but in truth, the vast majority of those to have taken their bike to be repaired at his shop over the years will have encountered nothing but warmth, value, genuine customer service – and no shortage of finely-tuned skill.
Stepping inside the shop today, you’re immediately struck by the extraordinary array of two-wheeled paraphernalia before you. You suspect that while on first glance it appears an unfathomable jumble, to Maurice it is no doubt in perfect order.
Most days over the last half a century he has operated from here, a place without gas, water or electricity – although there are more modern facilities out the back and upstairs, where Maurice and Sylvia have lived.
The new owners are local and enthusiastic bike riders, he said, although he doesn’t know whether it is being kept as a shop or converted back into a house.
There’s no doubt he’s looking forward to his new life in Timperley though. “I’ve never had a garage before,” he says, “but now we’ll have one with room for four cars. And we’ve got a big garden, a gazebo, a conservatory…”
After 50-60 years of “football, motorcycling and kneeling down”, Maurice deserves a few home comforts. Here’s to a happy retirement, Mr Braithwaite.
