Lucie McInerney, The Independent

My father adores buying books. For himself, for my mum, for me, for everyone in the family as Christmas gifts — whether you wanted one or not — you get (at least) one. He never wanted me to have to leave my own home in order to read. In his own childhood, his only access to books came through visits to the library and he took enormous pride in stuffing our shelves full of the classics of Austen, Bronte, Dickens, Hardy, Stevenson and the rest, so I was spoiled for choice whenever I wanted to read.

Though it must be said, as a child I mostly stuck to Nancy Drew and Malory Towers, the option to be more intellectual was there.

When I was growing up, our weekend routine would start early on a Saturday morning in Bewley’s Cafe on Grafton Street in central Dublin where dad would buy me a chocolate doughnut as breakfast. Such indulgence at that hour of the day would make my mother’s toes curl. But with dad, it was allowed, nay, encouraged, as it gave him permission to follow suit. Once fed and watered, we would troop around the corner to the enormous Hodges Figgis bookstore on Dawson Street — and there we would remain, sometimes for hours, perusing the shelves and making our choices of what to bring home. It’s one of my favourite childhood memories and, to this day, I love nothing more than losing track of time in bookshops.

But lockdown has denied me that pleasure for the last three months and now I’m reading more than ever. Not only am I reading more, but I’m getting more recommendations of what to read. Books have proven a great escape from an unrelenting news agenda as well as a welcome relief from staring at a screen for hours on end, so I’m racing through them at a ferocious pace.

Being so fortunate as to grow up surrounded by books and rarely, if ever, denied the opportunity to get my hands on something new means I’ve wound up seriously impatient when it comes starting my next read. In the pre-lockdown era, I would take myself off to a bookshop and stock up regularly, sometimes if nearing the end of my current book, and other times just because I felt like it and because something in my brain excuses the money spent on a book as never wasted. When shops had to close their doors, I searched for independent booksellers operating online and posting out orders — but my hunt proved unfruitful, with even Waterstones quoting a four to six week wait. Combine lockdown with my levels of frankly petulant impatience to get another title on the go and I was left with but one option: Amazon.

I have always felt strongly about supporting independent businesses as opposed to mammoth global corporations. Plus I’m quite old-fashioned in that I like to pick up and hold the items I’m interested in before I buy them. In the case of books, I love to pick them up, turn them in my hands and get a feel for them before reading the publisher’s sell of the story on the back cover. It’s not the same on a webpage or an app.

But left with no alternative, I did find myself reduced to availing of my husband’s Amazon Prime account. Not only would I get my hands on a new book or five but they’d arrive the next day. This was my only salvation. And so I caved and ordered three books in one go from them. The experience left me cold — and feeling a little grubby and embarrassed. Why couldn’t I just be patient and wait for Waterstones?!

Thankfully shops reopen their doors for the first time in months on Monday and we will begin the next great challenge: getting the country back up and running. Data for the month of April, released on Friday, showed that the economy shrank by a fifth and the OECD has said that the UK is headed for the worst recession of all developed economies in the wake of the coronavirus pandemic.

While Amazon has proved itself invaluable in keeping us all in books, bike parts, food and other provisions over the course of the lockdown, I’m keen to get back out there and go into shops and see people and, insofar as I can afford, buy a few things. Many of us have had to stomach pay cuts and many are still terrified that the end of furlough will spell job losses, so spending money is the furthest thing from our minds. And that’s without the public health considerations around preventing a second peak and the concerns for the health of the most vulnerable among us.

But at least, if you do decide to indulge in some retail therapy, when you buy something from an independent retailer, you’re contributing to a small business owner’s weekly food shop and getting them a bit closer to buying that birthday present for their child. Whereas, when shopping on Amazon, the very many, often small but frequent purchases that we make contribute to the fortune of the richest man on Earth.

Not only is Jeff Bezos richer than many countries, but his brainchild, Amazon, is such a successful company it has reached the dizzying heights of “multinational corporation that gets away with paying very little tax”. In September 2019, it was reported that Amazon paid just £220m in tax on a revenue of £10.9bn — and that’s in the UK alone. And the company’s track record on employees’ working conditions and their right to speak out about those conditions leaves a lot to be desired.

But in a world where we are working harder than ever, with fewer breaks and less let-up thanks to home schooling and the demands of 24/7 emails and Zoom calls, convenience is king. The ease of one-click purchasing on Amazon is enormously attractive at the end of a 12-hour working day. I just hope that going outside and into a bookshop again will be even more attractive from Monday onwards — no matter how tired I am.