The bookshop that never was...

The bookshop that never was still lives on in the furthest corners of my mind.
Allow me to explain. After my folks split, my dad would take me and Wor Kid out on a regular basis, usually to my Nana's place in Longbenton.
Quite often, on the way home, we'd stop outside some sort of shop and dad would leave us in the car for a bit while he went in. I can even tell you where it was, vaguely, somewhere in the Four Lane Ends area of the city.
One time, he was in there for ages. Although I was the youngest out of me and Wor Kid, I was the less timid brother, so I went into the shop to find my dad.
But he wasn't there, at least not downstairs. I remember shelves with not many books on them, and a man behind a counter, who said "he'll be down soon", so I went back to the car.
I asked my dad what that shop was all about a few years ago. "Don't know what you're talking about, never happened.", was his succinct reply.
Fair do's, but may I refer you to my mother's earlier statement that my old man opens his gob and lies fall out?
(You might wonder why I haven't discussed any of this with my brother. Well, I've tried to, but he's spent a lot of the last quarter-century gobbling down some pretty hardcore anti-psychotic medications to combat his schizophrenia, so his early days are a bit sketchy, to say the least. Anyway, How Wor Kid Went Mad doesn't happen for about another dozen years or so, we'll come back to this.)