Just Sean and me, plus Lars and Leo, who hadn’t been scheduled but had shown up anyway, thinking to pick up some easy cash and not expecting anyone to be too fussy about the time sheet. All of the Administration staff had gone to Toronto for Neale’s funeral. Hans and Ramon had gone too, as quasi-administrators, or at least the highest-ranking underlings. Sean was in an uncharacteristically chipper mood, expecting hours of undisturbed mumbling. But the first hour brought in a surprising number of visitors, drawn by curiosity about “the curator guy”. Quite a few pronounced it Cure-a-tor, like the name of a newly-discovered dinosaur. They mostly hung about the front desk, probing for info-bits, but inevitably a few strayed up into Sean’s domain. After the first few curses had blatted over the walkie-talkie, Leo (slightly bolder in his mischief, I could see now) suggested simply taping the Closed sign of the last two days back on the front doors and locking up. Ted, transfixed by an Asimov story, made no trouble.
What do You think about Catalogue Raisonne (2012)?
