49. Recents
In which Angle saves a spreadsheet...
“If all the Margrave marks we have found are in the list, then can we assume that the rest of the list records more Margrave marks in more locations?” asked @inkymoose.
“It’s a distinct possibility,” said @AngleofRepose.
“But what about the Reconstruction marks?” asked @NotAtMyAge. “Are they also in the spreadsheet?”
“Let me search for the Stained Glass Museum and Westminster Abbey,” said Angle.
Everyone waited while Angle searched.
“They are there in black,” said Angle. “No status. Not Historic, not Delivered. It’s like they’ve been written down and then passed over.” She was looking at the black row for Westminster Abbey, sitting on its own between two long green sections. “Ely, too. 1976, when The Visitation was donated to the Museum.”
“1958 has a black row and 1934 too,” said NotAtMyAge.
“I’ll save the spreadsheet to my laptop now and look again tomorrow.” Angle saved the file, took the stick out of the laptop and closed the lid.
@EdithStourton arrived with Brains and Batshit the following morning just as Graphic, Gimbal and Griffin left for the workshop.
“Bury St Edmunds, St Edmundsbury Cathedral,” she said. “No mark, but you must go and see it if you ever get the chance. Two panels by Pippa Blackall, up the stairs to the Treasury, the prophetess Miriam and Saint Cecilia. Miriam’s got her timbrel raised over her head and Cecilia’s at the organ with her eyes half shut, and the colour in both of them is extraordinary, deep as anything Victorian but you can tell straight away it’s not.”
Edith let the dogs off the lead then continued, “St Edmundsbury is very dog-friendly. It even has a sign saying, Well-behaved dogs on leads are welcome, and there’s a treat waiting for them at the welcome desk. There’s even a calendar in the Cathedral Shop too, with a spaniel at the lectern, and a Weimaraner admiring a tapestry.”
“How did Brains take that?” asked Angle, writing St Edmundsbury, no mark, dog-friendly in her notebook.
“As an insult. She has never once needed telling to behave, and there it is on a printed sign as though she might not manage it.” Brains sat by the bar with the stillness of a dog absorbing an injustice. Batshit sat next to her, quivering with the effort of sitting still, until her back legs couldn’t take the strain any more, slipped out from under her, and she collapsed in a heap on the floor.
Angle opened the laptop to hide her laughter and avoid embarrassing Batshit. She opened Excel and saw that the workshop spreadsheet appeared twice on the list of Recent files. The top entry read, Workshop.xlsx and underneath in smaller letters it read, C » Users » Angle » Documents. The second entry also read, Workshop.xlsx and underneath, it read, Boily D: ».
Angle looked at it for a while and then said, “I think we might have a problem.”
At the workshop, Gimbal sat next to the laptop watching Halcyon type details onto the Stamps tab from Gimbal’s list. Once she finished, Halcyon clicked on File, Save. An error box appeared in the middle of the screen. It read “Workshop.xlsx” cannot be accessed. The file may be corrupted, located on a server that is not responding, or read-only. Halcyon clicked Retry. The same box came up, so she clicked Cancel, went to File, Save, and the screen displayed a folder on the C: drive that didn’t look like the file’s correct location. She went to find Fenella.
Fenella arrived impatiently and clicked Save herself. The error box appeared for her too. She went to File, then Save As. On the right-hand side, where normally a list of files appeared there was simply Boily D: and beneath that it said, “We couldn’t find that location. The path has been changed or deleted.“
Fenella pressed the Escape button and clicked on File again. The list of recent files appeared. The filename appeared twice. The file’s original folder was second on the list. Boily D: » was first.
Fenella paused, then navigated to the original folder where she saved the spreadsheet. She stood there for a moment and then said, “Nothing to worry about. All saved now.” Then she straightened up and went back to her own bench.
Gimbal looked at Griffin who had seen it all from her place near the laptop. Griffin looked at Graphic, who had turned round to watch Fenella the moment she’d left the bench. Graphic quickly turned back to her own bench. Griffin turned to look back at Gimbal. Neither of them said a word.
An hour later, Fenella called all three gerbils over to her bench. The original pane of glass had been releaded and encased in a lead frame. The woman in deep water blue with the three keys and the purse, looked up at them, the crack visible across the bottom left corner just above the Reconstruction mark stamped into the lead.
Fenella looked up as the gerbils arrived. "You three," she said. "This needs to be packed into a crate for delivery. Take it through to the back."
Griffin, Gimbal and Graphic carried the panel carefully past the kiln and into the storeroom where a wooden crate lined with wool and straw lay open ready for the window. The gerbils lowered the glass gently onto the packing material.
"The courier's coming for it first thing," said Fenella. "I trust you all to pack it properly." Then she left the storeroom and closed the door behind her.
They packed wool down the sides and covered the glass with wool and straw until they were sure the glass would not move. Together they lifted the lid from its position on the floor, fitted it onto the crate, and pressed it down at each corner.
A completed docket sat on the side and Griffin slid it into the waiting sleeve on the lid. Gimbal read it aloud, "Consignee 3859".
Satisfied they had safely packed the glass, Graphic went to the door and turned the handle. The door did not open. Griffin tried it after her with the same result, then turned to the other two. "We've been locked in".
https://myrtlelion.substack.com/p/49-recents