I hope your new day of work is filled with... tedium and familiarity to be honest, so that you feel like this is going to be achievable. Then tomorrow can have the excitement of learning all the new stuff :) I saw you updated the last Gazette entry too -- very nicely done, and I did like the detail of the prize fund :-D
The night before Fabian immediately started to say that he couldn't possibly leave the figurines unattended and in the assessment room, and caught himself before he got more than an "Uhhh," out. The figurines had been sat in his jacket pocket for over six months, hiding from the divorce lawyer and his beady, greedy eyes and grasping fingers, and having them sat here in the assessment room for a few more weeks wouldn't hurt. And might even make it easier to claim he'd forgotten about them, or that they shouldn't be counted as part of his assets should the matter ever come up again. "As long as you like," he said. "Though ideally I'd like to either put them out, or put them away, in the next couple of months. Say six weeks from now to get a preliminary decision?" The Maestro looked slightly taken aback and after a moment Fabian realised that the old man had been expecting Fabian's first reaction. "Ah, good," he said, sounding a little gruff as though he was being given an unexpected gift. "I, ah, doubt it would take that long. Unless something important came in, of course. Something that, uh, the Museum obviously, decided should take priority." "Of course," said Fabian, smiling. There was a flutter of butterflies in his stomach; he realised he wasn't entirely comfortable with the figurines not being in his possession, but he put that aside as a general possessiveness. "Did you ever get that matter with the Ma--" he started and was interrupted by the klaxon of the fire alarm going off. It blared, drowning out his words, and the lights in the assessment room dimmed and brightened twice in succession, just in case whoever was in there was somehow temporarily deaf. Fabian waited patiently, knowing how the fire alarm worked. After ten seconds of near-pain-inducing noise the sound decreased to a steady wail that was hard to ignore but you could, at least, shout over.
"Fire drill," he shouted. The Maestro nodded. "We better leave." The Maestro waved a hand at him. "You leave, now," he shouted back. His voice was crackly and sounded strained. "Check the other assessment rooms, though they'll all be empty, and report that to your HR woman. I'll shut the room down, contain the sample and then I have to check the back rooms." "Why?" Fabian was started to feel annoyed by the siren wail. The Maestro dug into an inside pocket for a moment and then produced a red-and-silver star-shaped badge. "Fire Marshall," he said, waving it vaguely. Fabian nodded. The Maestro wouldn't have been his first choice for a Fire Marshall given his age, but he could equally see how the Maestro would have demanded the position. "Ok," he yelled. "I'll tell Cass that you're Fire Marshalling." The other assessment rooms were empty, as the Maestro had predicted, and it was a short walk then out of a concrete corridor that would have had trouble burning if it had been soaked in oil first and up a short flight of steps to the rear of the Museum. Fabian jogged across the lawn separating the steps from the car-park where the staff were required to assemble and quickly found Cass, who appeared to be fulminating. "I'm out," he said, "an--" "They changed the time," said Cass, not listening to him. "Deliberately, the night before the drill! They did this to try and catch us out and make us look bad!" "--stro is Fire Marshalling," finished Fabian who was fed up with being interrupted. "What?" "What?" Cass glared at him. "Report properly," she said testily. "I'm missing you, the Maestro, and possibly a cleaner who may not have turned up for work this morning. They're supposed to tell us the night before if they're not coming in. Wait!" She turned and nodded briskly at a young woman who had the tell-tale bulges under her jumper of extra arms, who reported something to her. "Right," said Cass turning back to Fabian, "the cleaner has just arrived; she was late. So that just leaves you and the Maestro." "I'm here," said Fabian, "as I was saying. And the Maestro is Fire Marshalling in the basement." Cass looked at her watch. "He should have finished by now," she said. "It's not like there were more than ten people in the whole building this morning. This has been a complete waste of time, you know. Everyone who needs to practice this won't turn up for another two hours!"
And I'm glad you liked it. This year's story is still on my mind. I'll try to get something sorted this weekend.
Intriguing detail, that bit of reluctance to let the figurines out of his possession, even if it ends up meaning nothing. But I suspect that it will mean something...
3 comments:
I hope your new day of work is filled with... tedium and familiarity to be honest, so that you feel like this is going to be achievable. Then tomorrow can have the excitement of learning all the new stuff :)
I saw you updated the last Gazette entry too -- very nicely done, and I did like the detail of the prize fund :-D
The night before
Fabian immediately started to say that he couldn't possibly leave the figurines unattended and in the assessment room, and caught himself before he got more than an "Uhhh," out. The figurines had been sat in his jacket pocket for over six months, hiding from the divorce lawyer and his beady, greedy eyes and grasping fingers, and having them sat here in the assessment room for a few more weeks wouldn't hurt. And might even make it easier to claim he'd forgotten about them, or that they shouldn't be counted as part of his assets should the matter ever come up again.
"As long as you like," he said. "Though ideally I'd like to either put them out, or put them away, in the next couple of months. Say six weeks from now to get a preliminary decision?"
The Maestro looked slightly taken aback and after a moment Fabian realised that the old man had been expecting Fabian's first reaction.
"Ah, good," he said, sounding a little gruff as though he was being given an unexpected gift. "I, ah, doubt it would take that long. Unless something important came in, of course. Something that, uh, the Museum obviously, decided should take priority."
"Of course," said Fabian, smiling. There was a flutter of butterflies in his stomach; he realised he wasn't entirely comfortable with the figurines not being in his possession, but he put that aside as a general possessiveness.
"Did you ever get that matter with the Ma--" he started and was interrupted by the klaxon of the fire alarm going off. It blared, drowning out his words, and the lights in the assessment room dimmed and brightened twice in succession, just in case whoever was in there was somehow temporarily deaf. Fabian waited patiently, knowing how the fire alarm worked. After ten seconds of near-pain-inducing noise the sound decreased to a steady wail that was hard to ignore but you could, at least, shout over.
"Fire drill," he shouted. The Maestro nodded. "We better leave."
The Maestro waved a hand at him. "You leave, now," he shouted back. His voice was crackly and sounded strained. "Check the other assessment rooms, though they'll all be empty, and report that to your HR woman. I'll shut the room down, contain the sample and then I have to check the back rooms."
"Why?" Fabian was started to feel annoyed by the siren wail.
The Maestro dug into an inside pocket for a moment and then produced a red-and-silver star-shaped badge. "Fire Marshall," he said, waving it vaguely.
Fabian nodded. The Maestro wouldn't have been his first choice for a Fire Marshall given his age, but he could equally see how the Maestro would have demanded the position. "Ok," he yelled. "I'll tell Cass that you're Fire Marshalling."
The other assessment rooms were empty, as the Maestro had predicted, and it was a short walk then out of a concrete corridor that would have had trouble burning if it had been soaked in oil first and up a short flight of steps to the rear of the Museum. Fabian jogged across the lawn separating the steps from the car-park where the staff were required to assemble and quickly found Cass, who appeared to be fulminating.
"I'm out," he said, "an--"
"They changed the time," said Cass, not listening to him. "Deliberately, the night before the drill! They did this to try and catch us out and make us look bad!"
"--stro is Fire Marshalling," finished Fabian who was fed up with being interrupted.
"What?"
"What?"
Cass glared at him. "Report properly," she said testily. "I'm missing you, the Maestro, and possibly a cleaner who may not have turned up for work this morning. They're supposed to tell us the night before if they're not coming in. Wait!" She turned and nodded briskly at a young woman who had the tell-tale bulges under her jumper of extra arms, who reported something to her.
"Right," said Cass turning back to Fabian, "the cleaner has just arrived; she was late. So that just leaves you and the Maestro."
"I'm here," said Fabian, "as I was saying. And the Maestro is Fire Marshalling in the basement."
Cass looked at her watch. "He should have finished by now," she said. "It's not like there were more than ten people in the whole building this morning. This has been a complete waste of time, you know. Everyone who needs to practice this won't turn up for another two hours!"
Greg - thanks! :)
And I'm glad you liked it. This year's story is still on my mind. I'll try to get something sorted this weekend.
Intriguing detail, that bit of reluctance to let the figurines out of his possession, even if it ends up meaning nothing. But I suspect that it will mean something...
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