Pendragon's Folly, Chapter 2
Jul. 12th, 2014 10:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thismazTitle: Pendragon's Folly
Pairing: M/A, eventually.
Rating: PG maybe even U
Chapter Word Count: 11,300
Warnings: No sex
Summary: There's an out of work wizard, a museum, a sizeable donation that turns it into a building site, suspicious happenings and magic. A sort of 'take your fandom to work' story.
Author's note 1: When it comes to romance, this story is the definition of 'slow burn'. On the other hand, in this chapter Arthur arrives... at last.
Author's note 2: More thanks than I can say to my beta, plot wrangler and best friend,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sparrow2000.
Comments are always greatly appreciated, loved and cherished.
Disclaimer: I write fan fic. All the characters from the Merlin series are the property of the BBC and Shine, etc. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this writing.
Chapter 2
"How was the Board meeting?" Merlin asked. He was concentrating more on making Gaius's breakfast pot of tea than on conversation, but something in the quality of Gaius's silence caused him look around. "Are you okay?" he asked.
Gaius sighed and stirred the porridge. "It was," he said thoughtfully, "surprising. The Chair stood down."
Merlin blinked. "Oh," he said. "Right." He reached for a mug and spooned coffee granules into it. "So what happens now? And did he say why?"
"She," Gaius said. "And no. Or yes. She said that other commitments were making it impossible for her to give the amount of time she would wish to the project."
The kettle boiled. "Okay. So…?" Merlin asked, pouring water into both the pot and his mug.
"As her last act, she asked for nominations. Councillor Ann Hodge nominated Colin Banks, the headmaster, you know?" Merlin nodded although he hadn't known. "Cedric Griggs, the solicitor, nominated Uther Pendragon."
Squeezing around Gaius to reach the fridge, Merlin pulled out the milk. "Wow!" he said. "Uther Pendragon? Wasn't it his first meeting?" Gaius nodded. "So who got voted in?"
The twist of Gaius's lips could have been a smile. "Uther," he said.
"Wow again." Merlin frowned as he poured milk into the little breakfast jug. He carried the jug and teapot into the living room and set them on the table. "Isn't there a conflict of interest there?" he asked, coming back for his coffee cup. "What with him being the donor?"
"Apparently not," Gaius said. "Pass me two bowls, would you? I think Cedric's reasoning was that he would be more likely to insist on value for money, because it is his money."
"Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense. So… Is it a good thing? That Uther's in charge now?"
Gaius gave the porridge a last stir and poured it into the bowls Merlin set down on the counter next to him. "I don't know," he said. "I think so. He's a shrewd businessman. When he inherited Pendragon's, twenty-five years ago, it was a small and not hugely profitable provincial company. He's put it on a national footing."
Taking the bowls, while Gaius put the pan in the sink, Merlin asked, "What do they do?"
"Mostly property," Gaius said. He took a last look around the kitchen and followed Merlin through to the table. "It's not a big company. It wouldn't be in the FTSE100, even if it was listed. When he took over it was still a manufacturing business, but he purged it of its deadwood and reduced the range of its operations. Then he began to expand again." He sat down, reached for the sugar and dumped a spoonful into the middle of the porridge in his bowl. "Now it's flourishing and he runs it as his private kingdom. There's even a prince standing by to inherit." He looked up at Merlin and this time his smile was definitely genuine. "Arthur. He was the young man with Uther, yesterday. Although he didn't attend the Board Meeting."
Merlin cocked his head. "You talk like you really know them," he said. "You were friends? Only, when you met him you seemed, I don't know..." He trailed off.
"I did. Know them," Gaius said placidly. "I worked for Uther in the early years. I haven't seen Arthur since he went off to school, though. He's turned into a fine young man."
Merlin picked up his spoon and stirred the porridge in his bowl. "You worked for Pendragons? I didn't know that. How come I didn't know that?"
"There are lots of things about me you don't know," Gaius said. "And no reason why you should. I worked for his father, too."
Pausing with his spoon halfway to his mouth, Merlin asked, "Oh, um, you weren't… I mean… He didn't sack you, did he?"
Gaius raised an affronted eyebrow. "Sack me? Good heavens, no. What makes you think such a thing?"
"Um… Well, you said he'd got rid of a lot of people."
"Ha! And you thought I was one of those – a bit of deadwood?" Gaius's disapproval was more mock than real, so Merlin shrugged apologetically and began to eat.
"I don't know whether to be touched by your concern," Gaius said, "or insulted by the question."
Swallowing, Merlin grinned. "The first one," he suggested. "Definitely the first one."
"Hmm," Gaius said, dubiously. "No, I kept my job. I was actually his Personnel Manager for eighteen years. But I was never ambitious like Uther. Once I'd saved enough to live on in my modest way, I left." He ate for a while in silence, but as he spooned up the last of his porridge he said, "I wasn't sure he'd ever forgive me. For leaving. Thankfully, I was wrong."
Merlin took his bowl from him, stacked it in his own and put them aside while Gaius moved the toast nearer.
"I'm sure he'll have an invigorating effect on the Board," Gaius said, handing Merlin a plate. "He spoke of getting someone from the company to come in on a full-time basis as a proper project manager and I think he's right." Scooping butter onto his knife, he spread it on a slice of toast. "I've become slack in my comfortable existence and haven't been paying enough attention, or lobbying them for enough details. Leaving it to The Board to oversee the project was a mistake. I used to be so business-like too." He grimaced and shrugged. "But I really didn't want to get sucked back into all that wheeling and dealing. It'll be good to have someone who knows how things are done in this electronic age. I have to admit, I am a trifle concerned about the budget."
"How much do we have," Merlin asked. "I mean, how much has the project spent so far?"
"There was a report to The Board last night," Gaius said. "Prepared by Cedric Griggs. He's the Treasurer you know. It had lots of charts and graphs and coloured columns of figures and it seemed to suggest that the spend profile was following the projected curve."
"Do you have a copy?"
"Yes, here." Gaius dug around among a pile of papers on a corner of the table, pulled out a report marked with a large, red 'CONFIDENTIAL, NOT TO BE CIRCULATED FURTHER' at the top and handed it over.
Merlin looked through it while he ate his toast. When Gaius placed another slice on his plate, he smiled his thanks but continued to read while he spread butter and marmalade.
Eventually, he put the report down between them, folded open to the last page. "I don't know much about building works," he said, pointing at a table of figures, "but isn't this saying that more than 40% of the entire budget is already committed. Shouldn't there be more to show for it, if that's true?"
"I suppose, but the infrastructure was in a much poorer state than we anticipated, so the builders' contract is larger than planned. But you're right, of course. I'll have to have a word with Lance, I suppose. Make sure he's aware. Or maybe Gwaine, since he's the one who'll be working on the display designs. I haven't spoken to him for weeks."
Frowning thoughtfully, Merlin asked, "Do you have all the invoices?"
"Of course. At least, I have the ones for everything I've bought and I think I have Dulac and Lott's. Morgana always puts in two copies, so I usually keep one, in case the top copy gets lost in the internal post. I've had too many things go astray to trust the Council's postal system. The builders submit their invoices directly to The Board, which means, Cedric."
"I bet Dulac and Lott get copies, though. They're the architects for the project."
"They might. Yes, I think they do."
"Okay. Well, I have an idea. If someone's coming in to be the project manager, you need to be able to show them what's been spent to date. Something understandable, so you can talk to them."
***
When they reached the office, Merlin pulled his laptop out of his bag, put it on the spare desk in Gaius's workroom and booted it up.
With Gaius hovering behind him, he opened the Excel program he'd had since he was a student. He looked over his shoulder. "Do you have the invoices?" he asked.
Gaius left him to get a box file from the bookshelf by the door. "Here," he said, handing it over.
"These are copies of every one of your bills?" Gaius nodded. "Okay. Well, I don't think it would earn me any accountancy prizes, but the quickest way I know to find out what's been spent, is to add it all up."
Starting at the top of the box, he began a spreadsheet, recording the date of each invoice and the total amount. He inserted a sum to maintain a running total at the top of the sheet. After a while, when he saw similar items repeating, he added extra columns to categorise the spend as display materials, removals work, office consumables, collections management and conservation.
By the time he had finished, the total looked like a lot of money, but was only a small slice out of the entire project budget. "This is just what you've spent locally," he observed, "and some of it could come out of your recurrent funds, but I've put it all together. The biggest bit was relocating the displays to the foyer. Why didn't DuLac and Lott do that job?"
"It was before they were appointed."
"Right. The other big one is all the packaging materials you bought."
"Which the collections needed, to be properly stored when they came off display in such a hurry."
"Okay, what about the Dulac and Lott invoices?"
"They're not in the box?"
"No."
"Oh. So..." Gaius turned around on the spot, as if the missing invoices would declare themselves. "Where did I put them?" he asked himself. "Oh, yes, of course."
He began opening and closing drawers in his desk. "There they are," he said, pulling out a battered looking envelope file. "I knew I had them. I put them in here in case Cedric needed them, but he's never asked."
Merlin took the file from him and pulled out a bundle of papers. "This shouldn't take too long," he said.
At 11am he added the last Dulac and Lott invoice to a total that was larger, but still nowhere near being a threat to the entire budget. Gaius was digging through the papers on his desk, looking for any other invoices he might have mislaid, since there were a few gaps in the sequence, and Merlin started going through the entire pile again, adding additional notes to his spreadsheet.
"They're only copies," Gaius grumbled. "I sent the originals up to the Town Hall for Griggs to pay. I only kept the copies because Morgana sent them. There was no reason to do anything with them, other than shove them in that file. I don't know why they're not all there."
"Well, unless Gwaine and his partner haven't done any work since December, we're missing some," Merlin said as he inserted another blank column to accommodate subtotals.
There was a knock on the door and it opened. A man stuck his head around the edge. "Hi Gaius," he said. "Just to let you know I'm here."
Gaius dropped the papers he had been looking through and straightened up. "Lance! Hello," he said. "Come in, come in, we were just talking about you." He indicated Merlin, who raised a hand in greeting. "Oh, this is my nephew, Merlin. He's staying with me."
Lance came into the room and approached Merlin with a broad smile. "Hi. Gwaine said he'd met you. Is he keeping you busy?" he asked, nodding towards Gaius.
Merlin opened his mouth, but Gaius spoke first. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Lance." He must have seen something in Lance's face because he immediately elaborated. "No, no, I don't want you to give him a job. He wants to collate everything we've spent on the project and I don't seem to have all your invoices."
"I'll ask Morgana to send you copies," Lance said, "Which are you missing?"
"Apparently all of them since Christmas." Gaius shook his head. "And we wondered if you would let Merlin go through your copies of Greenswood's invoices?"
There was a momentary pause before Lance replied, "I would, but we don't get them."
"You don't?"
"No, we're not the project managers," he explained. "All their invoices go to Cedric Griggs. But if we did get copies of any of any of them, Morgana will have them." He ran a hand over his head to the back of his neck. "Actually, I'd be very relieved if someone took a proper look at the budget. I've been asking Cedric for weeks for a clear statement, but he's not given me one."
"Isn't it strange," Gaius asked, "that the invoices from the building contractor don't come through you?"
"Arrangements are different with every job," Lance said. He walked over to a chair and sat down. "We're a young firm. We're not yet in a position to dictate terms, but I've been concerned. I've worked long enough to know that expecting a committee to manage a project is a recipe for disaster. Especially a committee that only meets once a month."
Gaius's shoulders slumped at the word 'disaster' and Merlin cut in. "Do you have any financial information?" he asked.
Lance paused thoughtfully. "We have a copy of the contract," he said, "and we get copies of the QS reports."
"QS?"
"Quantity surveyors."
"Would I get anything from those?"
"You might, but probably not everything. And there are subcontractors' invoices we were instructed to send directly to Griggs."
With a sigh, Gaius said, "I suppose I'll have to go directly to Cedric then." He didn't look very happy about the idea. Turning back to Lance, he asked, "Would you mind if Merlin came up to Market Square and recorded the invoices you've sent to Cedric Griggs?" He shifted uncomfortably. "I don't want you to imagine I'm checking up on you."
Lance appeared surprised by the suggestion. "Oh, no, I didn't think that. He's more than welcome. Today?"
Gaius and Lance both looked at Merlin, who shrugged. "Sure. If that's okay. I could do that."
"Okay," Lance agreed. "I'll call Morgana on my way to my meeting with Leon." He checked his watch. "Which I am now late for. I'd better go; he wants me to inspect the work on the roof."
***
Market Square was more of a rectangle. It was a large cobbled area where the market set up each Thursday, bisected by a tarmacked road. On three sides it was lined by brick terraced houses with the bay windows Gwen had described on ground, first and second floors. Dormer windows stuck up from the tiled roofs. On the fourth side of the square stood the thoroughly modern town library, made of grey concrete and glass in the brutalist style of the 1950's. The road was not busy, but a steady stream of traffic flowed in each direction. Most of it obeyed the local 20mph limit, but the temptation to get up to 30, or even 40, appeared difficult for some drivers to resist.
It was almost three o'clock by the time Merlin pushed open the door next to the brass plaque that read 'Dulac and Lott, Architects' and went in. Inside, the small foyer was enclosed by a modern, glazed, inner door, beyond which the original entrance hall was tiled like a chessboard in alternating black and white and was dominated by a curved staircase, below which stood a reception desk.
"I've come to see Morgana," Merlin explained.
The receptionist smiled and picked up her telephone handset. "She said you were coming. Go on up. Top floor, the door on the left." Merlin nodded his thanks and went.
When he reached the top of the stairs, he was faced by three doors and he tapped lightly on the one on his left. It opened under the pressure, so he pushed it further and peeked around the edge.
The small office beyond was painted all in white with a pale brown carpet. The ceiling sloped down almost to the floor and in this awkward space, a woman sat at one of two desks that were set facing each other under the dormer window. She was talking on the phone, but beckoned him in, so he went and hovered awkwardly, trying not to appear as if he was listening to her conversation.
"No, I put it in the post yesterday," she said. "Yes, first class. You should have got it this morning. Well, I suppose if the office junior was late going to the post office. No, I'll check. Yes, certainly. No, if it doesn't arrive tomorrow... Yes, it will be. Absolutely. Yes... No, thank you. Good-bye." She put the phone down and looked up at Merlin with a sigh of exasperation. "They're so hopeless," she said. "The number of lies I tell for them. But Lance will have to sign that cheque today. We can't afford to lose McWilliams' goodwill as a supplier." She picked up a coffee mug. "You must be Merlin. Hi. Do you want a coffee?" she asked, getting to her feet. She waved at the empty desk. "Grab a seat."
She was an elegant woman, dressed in an emerald green blouse and grey trousers that looked tailored to fit. A matching jacket was slung around the back of her chair.
Merlin pulled out the chair belonging to the other desk and sat down. "Would love one," he said. "Thank you."
She took her mug over to a sink in the corner of the room and rinsed it out. "Lance warned me you'd be coming up," she said, pouring coffee from the jug of a large filter machine into her mug and into a second one.
"He said he was a bit concerned."
"He is?" she asked, laughing outright - a peal of notes that ran down the scale. "He's concerned because I told him to be." She held up one of the mugs. "Milk? Sugar?"
"No, not if it's real coffee. Black, please. Thank you."
"Much as I love them, neither Lance nor Gwaine are as interested in money as they should be," she said, "considering it's their company. They work hard. Lance is always in first in the morning. He comes in on Saturdays, too. But try to interest them in the business side?" She shook her head as she poured a dash of milk into one of the mugs. "I gave Lance an invoice to deliver once and it spent four days in his briefcase before I managed to rescue it and put it in the post." She grinned at him over her shoulder, inviting him to join her in her affectionate exasperation.
Merlin found himself smiling back. There was something about her that made it impossible not to. "I'm glad you're doing it," she said as she walked back across the room. "Working out what's been spent. I was thinking of trying to do something similar myself, but I don't have all the invoices, either." She set a mug of coffee on the desk in front of him. "I love the museum," she said, resuming her own seat. "I often pop in to eat my lunch with Gwen. And I help her with the Museum Club, most Saturdays."
"Uncle Gaius has asked me to do that too, so I'll probably see you there." Merlin smiled and hefted his bag onto the desk. "I'm not an accountant," he said, "but I know how to add up a load of numbers." He pulled out his laptop. "At least, I do if I have a computer to do the actual adding up. And if we're going to get a proper project manager, it seems like a good idea to know where we stand before he arrives."
"I cleared that desk for you when Lance rang," she said. "A proper project manager?" Merlin pulled out his mains lead and looked for a power point. "Underneath, at the side," she said.
Pushing his chair away, Merlin got down on his hands and knees, peered around until he spotted the socket set into the skirting board and forced the plug in. Crawling back out, he paused with his head above the edge of the desk. "Thanks," he said and got to his feet. "Yes, apparently Uther Pendragon has offered to send someone down to manage the project properly, instead of leaving it to the Board of Trustees."
"Has he? Well, that sounds like a good idea, I suppose. Do we know their name?"
"No, probably some poor sod who'd rather stay in London and do their real job, but with a bit of luck, they'll not make things worse."
"Let's hope not," she agreed. "All the invoices for the Museum are in the top drawer of that cabinet there, with a detailed breakdown clipped to the back of each." She waved a hand at the right most of a row of three filing cabinets. "Have at it and welcome. I'll be really interested to hear what you come up with, when you add it in with the rest."
"It's the Greenswood invoices I can't get at yet. Gaius is going to ask Cedric Griggs."
"Well, I hope you manage it. I have payroll to do today, but do ask if you can't find anything."
Merlin took a quick sip of his coffee and went to retrieve the contents of the top drawer of the filing cabinet.
They spent the rest of the afternoon in companionable silence. Merlin discovered that Morgana's copies of the DuLac and Lott invoices had a lot more detail than the copies Gaius had, so he deleted what he had already recorded for them and started that section of his spreadsheet again.
There were also new invoices from a couple of technical and shop-fitting companies that listed model construction. One mentioned thatching. "Excuse me, but do you know what this was for?" he asked, handing the invoice over the desks to Morgana.
She took it and glanced at the invoice from Lakeview Partners, and the covering one from Dulac and Lott. "Oh, that was a job Cedric had us commission," she said. "We engaged Lakeview to build a model of a mediaeval farmhouse. They're shop-fitters. There was a sample of thatching too. It was a one-off job. And we made a small commission on the deal." She shrugged. "The model was delivered to the town hall and we never heard anything else about it."
"Oh, right, thanks." Merlin took the paper back and added the cost to his spreadsheet, under the heading 'display design'.
At five, Morgana threw him out, since she was going home and he packed his laptop away.
"The office will be open from 8:30," she said as they walked down the stairs. "But whenever suits."
Laughing, Merlin shook his head. "I can promise it won't be 8:30." He opened the front door for her and bowed as she passed him. "I'll go into the museum first, Gaius wants to initiate me into the wonders of collections management," he said when he joined her on the pavement outside. "But I really want to do this, so I'll come up mid-morning, if that's okay?"
"Absolutely. I'll see you then."
He watched her walk away, before turning himself to head in the opposite direction and home.
***
Store room 131 was a mess. There was no other word for it. Merlin didn't need museum training to see that. Some wooden shelving along one wall was packed full of old cardboard boxes and there were more scattered across the floor. "This is the worst," Gaius said. "They were all like this when I arrived. Over the years I've managed to put some order into most of them. I've simply never managed to get to this one."
"So now that I'm here, you think it's a perfect place for me to start?" Merlin asked.
"Exactly, my boy. You're young and full of energy. You'll have it sorted out in no time. Come on, I'll show you what to do. Grab that one," he said, pointing at a large cardboard box near their feet. "And bring it through to the workroom."
Merlin picked up the box and carried it back to Gaius's workroom, where he set it on the round table and cautiously peeled back the flaps. Inside was what looked like a lump of dirty, old, cotton cloth.
Gingerly, he lifted it away to expose the dull gleam of brass. Mixed in with a couple of spectacles cases (containing wireframe glasses), three matchboxes (two empty), a toy car (vintage Rolls-Royce, two inches long), five nib pens (stained with black ink), half a dozen watercolour seascapes (of dubious quality) and a man's silk scarf (once white, with a short fringe) was a large brass compass. Merlin lifted it out and put it on the table next to the rest of the objects.
"That's a good haul to start with," Gaius observed. "Judging by the mixture, I doubt any of it was accessioned, but you need to be sure. The compass will be the easiest. Come over here and I'll show you where to start checking."
Three quarters of an hour later Merlin had worked his way through most of the first decade in the accessions register with no success, when a knock sounded on the door and provided a momentary break from deciphering ancient handwriting.
"Come in," Gaius called and the door opened to admit Arthur Pendragon, followed by the other young man Merlin had seen when Uther arrived.
"Dr Leech?" Arthur said, approaching Gaius. "It's good to see you again." He turned slightly to indicate his companion. "This is my colleague, Pell Arimath. I believe you are expecting us?"
"No," Gaius said cautiously. "I don't believe we were, although it's obviously a pleasure."
"Ah," Arthur said. "I'm sorry. It appears a message has gone astray. My father has asked me to act as his representative, to see if we can get this project back on track."
"On track?"
"Yes. I've read the most recent financial report and I am going to see Mr Griggs, this afternoon."
"You're the project manager?" Merlin blurted.
Arthur turned slowly to look down his nose at Merlin, although behind him his colleague appeared to be trying to smother a grin. "I am," he said. "And I believe it is an indication of the importance my father places on this project that he has asked me to manage it, at least until we have established some regular order."
Gaius rose and walked out from behind his desk to shake Arthur's hand warmly. "That's wonderful," he said.
Arthur glanced around the room again and Gaius added, "Oh, this is Merlin, he's helping me tidy up the store rooms, before we move the rest of the collections out."
Merlin got to his feet and Pell came over to shake his hand. Arthur stayed where he was, but offered Merlin a nod of acknowledgement.
"Shall we...?" Gaius asked, indicating the round table.
"Thank you. I'm very interested in your view of what still needs to be done," Arthur said as they took their seats.
Merlin turned back to his work and kept his head down, scanning the register entries while he listened to their conversation.
Arthur proved adept at drawing Gaius out. Within minutes Gaius was telling him all about the history of the redevelopment project and his vision for the museum and its collections. Arthur's questions were open ended and well placed, encouraging him to be expansive. Pell was mostly silent.
After describing his work, what the museum was like before most of it was turned into a building site and his own priorities when deciding whether to accept a donation to the collections from the occasional walk-in, Gaius said, "I'd like to make full use of the local strength in the collections. Get more of it on display. We have some wonderful objects that can really illuminate life in Camelot over a thousand years and more. Some of them are of national, even international importance."
Merlin glanced over his shoulder at them and saw that Arthur was sitting comfortably, but was watching Gaius with alert attention. Pell appeared to be taking notes.
Arthur cocked his head. "What's been preventing you?" he asked.
Gaius also looked relaxed. Merlin guessed that he was enjoying holding court on a subject he loved. He smiled ruefully. "Money, mostly. But also talent. Display is not my area of strength." Arthur made a politely disbelieving sound and Gaius shook his head. "It's true," he said. "At the moment there's a small band of loyal supporters, who love this place because it's quaint. They come because they know it, it's familiar, and they admire the Victorian display cases in the Ticket Office as much as the things they hold. I always worried that I could destroy that, without replacing it with anything better."
Arthur smiled sympathetically. "What is your area of strength?" he asked.
"I know the collections. And I know the story they could tell." Gaius's voice as firm with conviction. "Many of our older and more valuable objects are on display in the two side galleries, although many more are packed away. And we also have a fine collection of later items that have local significance, or illustrate the way the people of Camelot used to live. This compass, for example," he said, picking it up to demonstrate. "It has no number on it. It's not important in itself. It's not locally made. But it may well have belonged to someone significant. So, Merlin's looking for the donation records before we consider how it should be displayed, if it should be displayed." He put the compass down again and sat back in his chair. "Even if it were not that the building is being repaired, this money from your father will make a huge difference. We've never had enough in the budget to do more than muddle along. I've known for years that a proper inventory was needed, but it's slow going, working alone." Arthur glanced over at Merlin, who made a show of running his finger down the page to the bottom and turning to the next. "But I'm boring you," Gaius said.
Arthur's voice was polite, but Merlin could almost believe that he meant it when he said, "Not at all."
"I know I am," Gaius insisted. "Perhaps the best thing would be if you could see the things, themselves." He raised his voice slightly. "Merlin?"
Merlin had reached 1908 and still not seen the donation record of a brass compass. He looked up. "Yes?"
Turning back to Arthur and Pell, Gaius said, "I'm sure Merlin would be happy to give you the tour of the galleries that we didn't manage the other day. My legs, you understand, they're not what they were."
"Of course," Merlin said, getting to his feet.
Arthur smiled coolly. It certainly didn't reach his eyes. "If you'd be so kind," he said, pushing his chair back and standing.
"You've already seen the Great Hall?"
"Yes," Pell replied. "Leon took us through it yesterday."
Arthur thanked Gaius for his time and with a glance at Gaius, Merlin ushered them from the room.
Outside, they paused while Arthur had a short, quiet conversation with Pell. Merlin waited for them a few yards away, with his hands on the rail. When they joined him, Pell smiled. "I'm going to go and see Leon, again," he said, holding out his hand.
Merlin took it automatically and they shook. "Oh," he said. He glanced at Arthur. "Do you...?"
"No," Arthur said. "Please, if you don't mind, I'd be glad of a tour."
"Maybe you can show me around another time?" Pell suggested.
"Sure, yes, okay," Merlin agreed. He watched Pell leave, turning back to lean both hands on the balcony as Pell descended the stairs. Beside him Arthur mirrored his stance.
"Do you know the history?" Merlin asked.
"The history?"
"Of the building, how it was supposed to be the town's railway station, but the railway never reached it and it got turned into a museum?"
"With minimal alteration," Arthur said. "Yes, I know that story."
"Oh good. Because I'd need to get Gwen to do that bit. She knows it better than me and, well, tells it better too." Merlin rubbed his hands together. "So we'll just do a tour of the stores and galleries then."
He took Arthur into the new, tidy store rooms along the corridor above the Ticket Office first, before taking him to see Room 131, just to reinforce the points Gaius had made about how much work parts of the collections still needed. Arthur looked around and nodded while Merlin's repeated the things Gaius had explained to him. He seemed genuinely interested in the process of the inventory and of registering and caring for the objects.
"You like museums," Merlin observed.
Arthur appeared surprised by the comment. "I suppose I do," he said. "I like the idea that someone is looking after our history."
"I guess it must run in the family. The Museum was set up by a Pendragon and now your father's restoring it. Or did you talk him into it?"
Arthur laughed. "I didn't even know it existed until last week." They turned and left the room. As Merlin locked the door behind them, Arthur said, almost to himself, "It appears my father has at least one sentimental bone in his body."
Something in his voice made Merlin think that the idea had never occurred to him before and for some reason he felt impelled to break the mood. "Come and see the galleries," he said.
As they descended the stairs, he recounted some of what Gwen had told him about Thomas Pendragon and Arthur listened attentively.
They crossed to the Ticket Office and Arthur paused on the threshold. He looked around at the regimented display cases with their regularly spaced shelves full of fossilised shells, mineral samples, bits of mining equipment, birds' eggs and small stuffed animals. "Oh," he said, walking into the room.
Leaning over the glass topped table, he studied the tray of faded butterflies and shook his head, before moving on to consider a miner's helmet, lamp and tally token. "I suppose it does have a sort of period charm," he observed, "but it looks like someone emptied their junk box onto the shelves."
"This is good," Merlin said, pointing at a fossilised fish and a collection of Stone Age tools in the other side of the glass topped table. Arthur walked around to look. "The fossil was found in the cliffs above Rosebeck and the tools were discovered in the middle of the village green.
Arthur made a harrumphing noise and took a few steps towards the door. Taking the hint, Merlin led him out into the foyer. He appeared a little more interested in the Victorian objects and spent a good twenty seconds studying the Pendragon & Burnt Artists' Paint Box from all available angles.
"The Ladies Waiting Room is through here," Merlin said when he straightened up.
Inside the Ladies Waiting Room Arthur paused again, his expression alert, and he glanced around as if searching for something. His eyes fixed on the two mummies and he went over to look at them. "They're a long way from home," he observed.
Merlin laughed. "Yeah. They don't really fit in with the rest of the collections. Gaius says they're more trouble than they're worth."
"I'd have thought –"
"Not worth financially. Worth to the Museum. A Professor from Oxford came to see them and said they were deteriorating. Gaius had to spend a fortune on that climate controlled display case, to stop the rot, but it's not enough. Apparently they're pretty unique, as specimens. Most examples from that period were destroyed by grave robbers."
"So the museum has to look after them, but doesn't want them?"
"Yeah, not really. Gaius says they attract a few academics, but they need a lot of expensive care. He says they'd be better off as part of a bigger Egyptian collection. He has a plan about that."
Arthur nodded judiciously and continued walking around the edge of the room, but he came to a halt in front of the pre-Saxon case. He let out a soft sigh and bent to take a closer look at the gold armbands and the sword hilts. Merlin felt oddly disappointed. "Yeah, they're pretty special aren't they?" he said.
Arthur straightened. "Yes, they are," he said briskly. "The old hotel kitchens are beyond this wall?"
"Um... Oh, yeah. I think so. I haven't been through there. The domestic life displays were there, but we can't get in at the moment. The only safe access is through the Great Hall."
"Right," Arthur said. He turned on the spot. "Is that it then? Have we seen it all?"
"Yes, the carriages and the other big things from the Great Hall are stored in a warehouse on the Riverside Estate."
Arthur spun back to face him. "Owned or rented?" he asked.
"Er… rented, I think."
"I don't remember seeing anything about that in the financial report," Arthur said, more to himself than to Merlin.
Merlin decided to answer him, anyway. "No, nor do I," he agreed. Arthur shot him a sharp look. "Yes, I've read it," Merlin said. "Gaius showed it to me."
Arthur didn't pick that up. Instead he said, "I need a proper list of commitments. I'm seeing Griggs this afternoon, but so far no one seems to have any idea of the budget."
"I've, well, I've sort of started doing something on that," Merlin admitted. "I've been through Gaius's invoices and recorded it all. And I went to Dulac and Lott's office, yesterday, to see what they have. I'm going back today, to finish. But I think Cedric Griggs has most of it."
"How long have you worked here?" Arthur asked. "I suppose the Council pays your salary. I didn't see you listed in the project budget, either."
"I just started," Merlin said. He wasn't really sure why he didn't clarify his employment status.
"So did the Board give you the task of collating the expenditure, or was that Gaius?"
That brought Merlin up short. "Um… Well, I suppose it was me, really." Arthur's brows rose, so he added hurriedly, "But Gaius thought it was a good idea."
Arthur had stopped pacing and was regarding him through narrowed eyes. "You talked yourself into a job?" he asked. "I didn't have you pegged for such a go-getter."
Merlin wasn't sure if that was intended as a compliment, or not. It didn't feel like one.
***
When he arrived at DuLac & Lott's offices much later than he had intended, Morgana had gone out, but there was coffee in the pot. There was also a card propped against the kettle that read, "Merlin – help yourself to coffee. Back soon. M."
He had worked his way through another three invoices by the time she returned. Her entrance heralded by the sound of her footsteps running up the stairs and he swivelled in his chair to greet her.
He had been struck by her presence the day before, although she'd spent most of the afternoon with her head down and her glasses balanced on the end of her nose. That afternoon, as she swept into the room, she was a queen and there was no question but that everyone she met would bow before her. She paused in the doorway before she noticed him. Then, she caught his eye and the facade of regal aloofness shattered when she smiled with pleasure and Merlin found himself on his feet and walking across the room towards her. "Coffee?" he asked and veered towards the sink.
She shrugged her handbag down onto her desk and flopped into her chair, somehow still looking elegant as she did so. "Please," she replied.
Merlin squinted at her. "You look more carefree than you did yesterday."
"Yesterday I had payroll to run. Today, a cheque arrived in the post, which I have now banked, and I can relax in the knowledge that we can cover all our bills for a while."
"A cheque for the Museum?"
"No, another project we've almost finished. A country house near Blackthorn."
"I've not been out that way since I was a kid," Merlin said as he poured her coffee. "I remember climbing the Tor and having a picnic at the top."
She looked up. "I didn't know you're from around here."
"I'm not really. We lived with Uncle Gaius when I was very young. But we moved to Ealdor when I was seven."
Morgana picked up her handbag and pushed it into the bottom drawer of her desk. "Was it for work?" she asked. "What does your dad do?"
"No dad. Just my Mum." Merlin passed her her coffee, picked up his own mug and returned to the coffee machine to top it up. "She's a farmer and an agricultural consultant for DEFRA. She advises other farmers who want to switch to organic production."
Morgana laughed. "Well, that serves me right for thinking in stereotypes," she admitted. "What's your mum like?"
Sitting down again, Merlin leaned back in his chair and took a sip of coffee. "She's brilliant," he said.
There was something wistful in Morgana's expression when she observed, "And you love her."
"Of course."
Nodding, Morgana smiled. "Must be nice," she said.
Merlin put his mug down and sat up. "Oh, I'm sorry, umm...."
She shook her head. "It's okay," she said. "My mother died when I was very young. I don't really remember her." Merlin made a soft sound of sympathy, but she smiled again and sat back in her chair, propping her feet up on the corner of her desk. She waved her hand and the red stone in the ring on her left hand caught the light. In an airy, studied voice she said, "My father didn't want to know us, so I was raised by my Aunt Lucy. She lives in a cottage in the grounds of the old family estate."
Going for a lighter note, Merlin widened his eyes. "Family estate? Wow, that sounds impressive."
Morgana's grin was more natural when she replied, "Not so very impressive. And not even a family estate any more. It was sold to pay my grandfather's debts." She was twisting her ring around on her finger in a way that looked habitual. The mannerism seemed strangely out of character. "Some actor bought it ten years ago and never comes near the place. It's just outside Lilebrook."
"So, do you commute?" he asked.
"Oh, gods, no," she said. "I don't want a car. I have a flat here in town."
"It's a nice town."
"Yeah, it is. There are times I can't imagine living anywhere else." She sounded pensive again. "But, there are times when I just want to get out and go anywhere else. Just to be away."
"That's almost exactly what my friend Will said about Ealdor," Merlin agreed.
"And what did he do?"
"He's in London now."
"And you came here."
"Yeah, well. There's no work in Ealdor. I thought about going back to York. I was at university there. But I remember Camelot from being a kid. And Uncle Gaius is here, so it was easy." He laughed, slightly embarrassed, and tried to make a joke of it. "I'm all for an easy life."
Morgana allowed her feet to drop back down to the floor. "Here's to that," she agreed, pulling her chair in to her desk. "I hope it stays that way." Pushing her coffee mug away, she opened the top drawer of her desk. "I suppose I'd better get to work," she said. "Before the next crisis jumps out at me."
"Gwen said you keep this company afloat."
"I do my best. They don't always make it easy. But I suppose I enjoy the challenge." She smiled politely and asked, "How are you doing with your task?"
Merlin looked down at the invoice he was working from. "I've got to January already. I'll be out of your hair, soon."
"You're no trouble," she said, turning to her own work. She looked up again. "I'm expecting a pretty big invoice from one of the subcontractors on the display side, next week. But we send those straight through to Griggs and he pays them. I don't think you'll have a complete picture until you get his numbers added into the mix."
***
Merlin did finish going through Morgana's papers that day, so they had a total figure and far more detail about what the money had been spent on than before, but there were still big holes in their knowledge. He reported this to Gaius that evening and Gaius in turn told him about a meeting he'd had with Arthur Pendragon. Arthur was apparently not happy with Cedric Griggs and had promised that Griggs' papers would be delivered to the museum for Merlin to catalogue, within three days. In the meantime Merlin returned to museum work and spent Friday getting dirty in room 131.
***
On Saturday he met up with Gwen and Morgana to help Gwen run a Museum Club meeting for a group of fifteen children between the ages of six and ten. He didn't have to do much except sit at the back while they watched a video about geology followed by Gwen showing them the kinds of fossils that could be found in the area. After that, he wandered around admiring the pictures the kids had settled down to draw and did his best to answer their many questions.
Afterwards, he helped tidy up the mess.
"What do I do with these?" he asked, indicating a few pictures that had been left behind.
"I keep them for two weeks," Gwen said. "In case they meant to take them home, but forgot in the bid for freedom. If they're not claimed after that, they go in the bin."
"Right," he said and started to gather them together.
Gwen was carefully packing fossils away in a tray while Morgana chucked felt tip pens, pencils and crayons into two plastic toolboxes. Merlin rolled up the remains of the big roll of paper the children had been drawing on and leaned it against the wall next to the door.
Between them they dismantled the tables and stored them in the cupboard that had once been the ladies loo, along with the AV equipment.
They had just closed the door when a visitor entered the room. She was elderly, wore a tweed twinset and hat and had a string of pearls around her neck.
"Good morning, Miss Kay," Gwen said. "Isn't it a beautiful day?"
"It is very fine," the lady replied. She walked around the room, inspecting the exhibits, but not dwelling on them. It was as if she was simply checking they were all there. Pausing in front of the mummies, she studied them with more intensity, before moving on with a, "Hmm…"
Morgana picked up one of the trays of fossils. "I'll take these upstairs," she said.
Merlin was struggling to find the balance point on the roll of paper that would allow him to clamp it under his armpit, leaving his hands free for the boxes of crayons and pens. Gwen had just picked up the other tray of fossils, when the visitor spoke. "Will you introduce me to your friend, Miss Smith?"
When Gwen nodded, it almost looked like a bow. "Of course," she said. "This is Merlin. He's helping out here until something better comes along. Merlin, this is Miss Kay. She's a regular visitor."
Miss Kay's smile seemed genuinely friendly, although she had a stiff, old-fashioned manner. She was at least in her 70s and exhibited an air of gentility that carried with it a strong suggestion that she had never felt the need to question her rights or her place in society. "Finding a better thing does not necessarily require one to move," she said. Her gaze, while she studied him, was intense and slightly intimidating. "Merlin," she said, rolling the word across her tongue. "How appropriate. You are a presentable young man. I imagine they had you doing the meet and greet and the guided tour when the prince came to visit."
"Umm, sorry?" Merlin asked.
"I'll see you soon, Merlin," she said. "Destiny cannot be avoided. It has already arrived on your doorstep; you must look and you will see it."
"O-Kay," Merlin said, but he was already talking to her back.
She swept out of the room, pausing at the door to add, "It comes in its own time and it cannot be diverted."
Merlin looked back at Gwen, who smiled brightly. "Well, we'd best get these things packed away," she said.
When they reached the foyer, Miss Kay was nowhere to be seen and Merlin heaved a dramatic sigh. "She's…," he hesitated, "odd," he said.
"Odder than usual, today," Gwen agreed as they climbed the stairs. "She comes in fairly often, but she doesn't usually say much."
***
Uther did not visit again, although Gaius said he had called a few times with questions. Merlin had a couple of sightings of Arthur or Pell in the foyer. Arthur only ever spared him a brief smile and a nod of recognition, but Pell would usually pause to exchange greetings and polite observations on the weather. On one occasion they laboured through an entire five minutes discussing the performance of Camelot FC in the Championship, before they realised that neither of them really cared about professional football. On the whole Merlin had nothing to do with them and Arthur seemed to have forgotten his promise to extract Cedric Griggs' papers from him, for Merlin to collate. According to Pell he was holed up with Leon going through the structural plans and getting a picture of the work still required to bring the building up to spec.
"What's he like to work with?" Merlin asked. "And what do you do?"
Pell laughed. "The word you want is 'for'," he said. "Not 'with'." He shrugged. "He's all right. Can be a bit stiff. This job has come in on top of everything else he does, so I'm mostly running interference on the rest. As much as I can, anyway. He works hard. And he expects the same from those who work for him."
Merlin nodded. "Bit of a slave-driver, is he?" he asked, sympathetically. "He seems a bit..." he trailed off.
Pell paused to consider before he answered. "He's a good boss," he said, eventually. "I think he's probably a lot of fun, socially, but..." He shrugged again. "He's his father's son and there's a lot expected of him. Don't judge him too harshly until you get to know him." He looked at his watch and grinned. "But right now, I'm going to be late and that is not a good thing."
He hurried off and Merlin watched him disappear into the Great Hall, before he continued on his way up the stairs.
***
The Museum was open on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursday to Saturday, although Gaius explained that he usually went in on Wednesdays too. Wednesday was when the local paper published its situations vacant column, so Merlin stayed at home. During the rest of the week he became very familiar with room 131, spending hours with a clipboard and catalogue cards, going through the shelves, one after another.
Every accession number was recorded and he started keeping a list on his laptop, so he could identify which items in the collection he had located. For the first couple of days Gaius joined him, deciding how the objects should be packed for safety and preservation, and instructing Merlin in the proper procedures, but once he was confident that Merlin knew what he was doing, he left him to it.
Merlin rescued tea sets, photograph albums, horseshoes, old hand tools, glass fronted cases of stuffed birds and various obscure pieces of agricultural and mining machinery from the shelves and floor, and packed them away in clean, clearly labelled boxes, or parcelled them in bubble wrap and placed them in indexed spaces on the shelves. Most of the objects did have numbers, although some of them were almost illegible. Many did not. There was one corner where it seemed that objects had been received and unceremoniously dumped with no one ever coming back to complete the task of recording them. In some cases the original donation documents were stuffed in the boxes with the items. Merlin collected those together to file properly. Eventually the whole collection would have to be moved again, but he took pride in making sure Gaius would know what they were moving when that time came.
Gaius became quite excited about some of the things Merlin uncovered. A nineteenth century collection of coins was put aside to be valued and locked away in the safe at the town hall, as was an old box full of stamp albums. A child's hand, in pure white marble, that looked as if it had been broken from a large sculpture, was carefully examined before being sent away to the British Museum for dating, while photographs of a small Chinese vase and an ivory monkey were sent to the V&A for identification.
It was during his second week, when he was on his way to Gaius's office, that he saw Lance in the foyer below, opening the access door to the Great Hall. Merlin was still convinced that there should be more to show for the money spent. Without pausing to think of an excuse for wanting to see it, he called out, "Lance!" and when Lance looked up, he clattered down the stairs. "Can I come with you and have another look?" he asked.
Lance nodded. "Of course." He opened the plywood door and stepped through, took a couple of hard hats from a row of pegs just beyond and handed one to Merlin.
The Great Hall looked even bigger than it had the first time Merlin had seen it. "Wow!" he said, "This place is amazing. It really is."
Lance looked around. "Yes, there really is room for a whole street in here," he agreed. "This is a fantastic project, you know. The building's not in too bad a state, considering that a lot of it was out of sight and has been neglected for decades, but there's more than enough to keep it interesting. Gwaine's totally in his element, too. He's our interiors person. I tend to concentrate on the bricks and mortar." He smiled slightly. "He says the difficulty here is to break up the space without compromising the original architecture. Someone on the Board of this place suggested making a pathway, a single route through the displays."
"Like IKEA?" Merlin asked and Lance laughed.
"Yes, although I think they had something more like Jorvik in mind. He managed to talk them out of that, although it was difficult. The more recent ideas are much more imaginative." He broke off.
Merlin followed his gaze and saw Leon clambering down from a length of scaffolding against the far wall. "Ah, there's the man I need to talk to," Lance said and waved. "Leon!" he called. He turned briefly to Merlin. "Sorry, looks like duty calls."
"No problem," Merlin said, "I can let myself out." He took a last look around the walls, noting this time the areas of rust on the roof girders, the cracks in the upper walls and the broken glass in the skylight. The place where the edges of the platforms had been could be traced by a slight but significant difference in the level of the floor and the lino tiles that still covered the area of the 20th-century gallery space were dirty and peeling. But beyond that, the alternating yellow and red brick, the impressive span of the roof and the ornate cast iron pillars that supported it, were testament to the solidity and confidence of Victorian engineering and design.
He took his hard hat off and hung it back on its hook, before working the Yale lock on the door and letting himself out.
*****
In the time Merlin was not crawling around in the store rooms getting filthy, he continued to look for paid work. In spite of being a large town, compared to Ealdor, there were far fewer jobs than he had expected. Camelot suffered from being just outside comfortable commuting range to London and although it was both historic and surrounded by beautiful countryside, its economy appeared to have been badly hit by the recession.
During the afternoon of his third Wednesday in Camelot, he bought a copy of the Camelot Echo on his way back from the Job Centre and was in his room searching the situations vacant column, again, in the hope that he had missed its continuation. For all his staring there remained only four jobs that week, two of them part-time. He studied the other two; one was a receptionist at a tanning salon and the other was for a shop assistant in a shoe shop. Both would be flooded by applicants with actual experience of customer service.
He folded up the paper, turned to his laptop and began to consider the idea of moving to London. There was no question that Will would put him up until he found his feet, but he loved Camelot. It was where all his best childhood memories belonged. The place where every day stretched for ever and was filled with cowboys and Indians in the back alley, pirates across the cobbled sea and princes, knights and dragons on the patch of waste ground around the corner. It was the place where the sun shone every day, except when the snow lay deep enough to threaten the tops of his wellybobs. Coming back to the tiny house on Francis Street had been like coming home.
London was too big; he always felt smothered by its endless streets. In Camelot, he knew the Tor was only half an hour's bus ride away, even if he never went up there. Camelot gave him room to breathe, as Ealdor never really had.
He didn't hear the front door, and didn't realise the time until Gaius called up the stairs, "There's a letter here for you. It looks official."
Closing his laptop on a vacancy for a lab tech in a secondary school in Lambeth, he went to the top of the stairs. "Probably a rejection from Avalon Cosmetics," he said, as he climbed down. "That's the only one I sent off last week." Taking the envelope, he ripped it open. The first words of the first paragraph were, "Thank you for your application for the position of Assistant Technician at our Camelot site. I am sorry to inform you..." He didn't bother reading further, simply folded it and stuffed it back in its envelope. He'd look at it properly later. In the meantime, he relieved Gaius of the carrier bag of shopping he was holding and took it through to the kitchen to unpack. "At least they wrote back," he said. "I'll cook supper, if you point me at the ingredients. You want a cup of tea, before?"
"A cup of tea would be good," Gaius agreed, "but I have to go out again in an hour. There's another board meeting and I've been asked to attend. Tell you what," he said, digging in his pocket and pulling out his wallet. "I'll make the tea, if you'll run out to the chippy and get us both fish and chips?"
***
When his alarm went off the next morning, the house was quiet. Gaius had still been out when Merlin retreated to his own room to watch his season six Supernatural DVDs on his laptop and he'd fallen asleep without going back downstairs. He got up, dragged his tracksuit bottoms on, bundled up some clean clothes and made his way carefully down the steep staircase. After a wash and with the kettle on, he went back into the living room. It is only then that he noticed Gaius, asleep in his chair in front of the fireplace. A glass and a brandy bottle stood on the floor beside him.
Merlin retreated to the kitchen as quietly as he could.
With morning tea drunk and Gaius washed and changed into fresh clothes, Merlin put a large bowl of porridge in front of him and sat down with his own. "You fell asleep downstairs," he observed as an icebreaker. Gaius grunted, concentrating on his spoon and bowl. "With brandy," Merlin added.
At that Gaius looked up and scowled. "Don't sound so moralistic, boy," he said. "I'll drink if I want." He caught Merlin's eye and belatedly realised that Merlin was teasing. His scowl softened into a quirk of a smile. "I needed to think," he said. "After the meeting."
"That bad?"
Putting his spoon down, Gaius clasped his hands together across his bowl. "It would appear that over the past six months Cedric has been going off on his own, commissioning design plans from Gwaine without proper Board approval. He even commissioned some off-site construction."
Merlin stared. "How did he do that, without you knowing?"
Gaius's face fell and he suddenly looked very tired. "He says it was reported to The Board, but I might not have been there. I wasn't a member." He frowned. "And I can't imagine he told them how much such work costs."
"But that's stupid," Merlin exclaimed. "That you aren't a member of the Board, I mean."
"Maybe, but the membership was drawn up in 1882 and has never been reviewed since. The curator may attend, by invitation." He shrugged. "I wasn't always invited." He picked up his spoon but didn't start eating. "I never questioned it," he said, "because I didn't care. As long as they left me alone. I should've done something about it, as soon as I found out how much money Uther was giving us. But," he shrugged again, "I suppose I didn't think."
"Why didn't Lance or Gwaine tell you what was going on?"
"I can only presume they thought I knew. It does throw a few of their comments into a clearer light, however. And one small positive is that I am now a member of The Board. Uther pushed that one through, last night." He dug his spoon into his porridge and turned it over a few times. "But it's the only good thing."
"What else happened?"
"Uther was furious about the wasted money. Especially when I explained that we don't have enough objects of the right sort in the collections to fill such a design. Apparently, Cedric had the bright idea of a street that stretched the length of the Great Hall, with a Stone Age house at one end and the twentieth century the other."
"Did they have streets in the Stone Age?"
That elicited an almost-smile. "You wouldn't have thought so, would you?" Gaius agreed. "I think Cedric might be forced to resign. You'll get all his papers to catalogue."
"I was supposed to get them last week. But that's good."
"Uther also blames Dulac and Lott." Gaius sounded uncomfortable at the admission.
"It's not their fault if they took orders from the Treasurer," Merlin objected.
"No, but maybe they should have questioned them. I don't know. Uther wanted to bring in his own architects to do the interior design."
"He sacked Lance and Gwaine?"
"No. They have a contract, but design work has been put on hold until the work on the structure is complete. He's agreed to pay Lance and Gwaine for the work done to date."
With mounting indignation, Merlin scowled. "And I suppose he agreed to that from his innate sense of justice?" he said.
Gaius sounded even more defensive when he replied, "There was nothing in writing. There was some discussion around what was legally required and what should be considered fair and I don't think Uther had a problem with the eventual decision."
It was in a mood of mutual peevishness that they finished their breakfast and set off for the Museum. But it was a beautiful day, the shop windows were full of chicks, bunnies and chocolate eggs, the sky was dappled clear blue and white, and the air smelt of promise. By the time they got within fifty yards of the Museum, Merlin was no longer trailing behind and Gaius had slowed to a relaxed, shambling walk. "How are you getting on with room 131?" he asked.
"Finished that one. I have a whole load of things that don't have numbers, so I'll go through the registers today and see if I can find them."
"Good, good," Gaius agreed. "You can show me what you've done, first thing, if you like."
Since he recognised a peace offering when he heard one, even if he didn't need it, Merlin nodded. "Yeah, okay," he said. "It's really tidy now."
***
After Gaius had inspected his work and approved it, Merlin spent the rest of the morning with the accessions registers, trailing his finger down the entries, looking for any registered items that sounded like the orphans he had placed on the unidentified objects shelf in room 131. It was monotonous work, but not boring, since no two items were alike. And when he found and identified something, and reunited it with its number, it was very satisfying.
He was working his way through the 1910 to 1913 register, when a sheet of loose paper fluttered out from between the pages. Catching it before it fell off the desk, he turned it over and read it.
Getting up, he went across to the filing cabinet and dug out the file of correspondence relating to the donation of the mummies and looked through it. He pulled out the donation letter and studied the two papers side by side, particularly the signatures.
"Uncle Gaius?" he said. "The file for Fred and Julie…"
Gaius was carefully cleaning the big compass, but he looked up. "Fred and Julie?" he asked.
"The mummies. I gave them names; it seemed polite."
"Okay, Fred and Julie, what about them?"
"I just found this letter in the register, from when they were donated. It's dated the day after the letter in the file and it's almost exactly the same. Just the delivery date is different. It says that they're being donated on condition that they're permanently displayed."
"I know that, Merlin."
"But there is a handwritten note that says…" He squinted down at the letter. "It says that if for any reason the Museum wants to take them off display, they need the permission of the donor."
"And?" Gaius was beginning to sound exasperated.
"And that annotation is annotated with another note that says, 'Or her heirs and descendants.' And they're both signed."
A smile began to spread across Gaius's face. "My boy, you are sometimes something of a genius. You never fail to surprise me."
"So how do we trace the heirs?" Merlin asked.
"I think I might go on a field trip to the County Records Office, tomorrow," Gaius announced. "Well done, my boy. Well done."
NOTE:
FTSE100 - (commonly pronounced footsie) is the share index of the 100 companies with the highest market capitalisation listed on the London Stock Exchange. It is maintained by the FTSE Group, a subsidiary of the London Stock Exchange Group. Ref: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FTSE_100_Index
DEFRA is the government Department for Environment, Food & Rural Affairs.
The Jorvik Viking Centre is the museum built over the archaeological site of Viking York. The first part of a visit to the centre involves a cart ride around a life sized recreation of part of the Viking settlement.
Wellybobs is a slang term for Wellington boots. Wellington boots are waterproof boots to be worn when jumping into puddles and streams. Paddington Bear wears wellybobs.
Pendragon's Folly, Chapter 3
Pairing: M/A, eventually.
Rating: PG maybe even U
Chapter Word Count: 11,300
Warnings: No sex
Summary: There's an out of work wizard, a museum, a sizeable donation that turns it into a building site, suspicious happenings and magic. A sort of 'take your fandom to work' story.
Author's note 1: When it comes to romance, this story is the definition of 'slow burn'. On the other hand, in this chapter Arthur arrives... at last.
Author's note 2: More thanks than I can say to my beta, plot wrangler and best friend,
sparrow2000.Comments are always greatly appreciated, loved and cherished.
Disclaimer: I write fan fic. All the characters from the Merlin series are the property of the BBC and Shine, etc. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this writing.
Chapter 2
"How was the Board meeting?" Merlin asked. He was concentrating more on making Gaius's breakfast pot of tea than on conversation, but something in the quality of Gaius's silence caused him look around. "Are you okay?" he asked.
Gaius sighed and stirred the porridge. "It was," he said thoughtfully, "surprising. The Chair stood down."
Merlin blinked. "Oh," he said. "Right." He reached for a mug and spooned coffee granules into it. "So what happens now? And did he say why?"
"She," Gaius said. "And no. Or yes. She said that other commitments were making it impossible for her to give the amount of time she would wish to the project."
The kettle boiled. "Okay. So…?" Merlin asked, pouring water into both the pot and his mug.
"As her last act, she asked for nominations. Councillor Ann Hodge nominated Colin Banks, the headmaster, you know?" Merlin nodded although he hadn't known. "Cedric Griggs, the solicitor, nominated Uther Pendragon."
Squeezing around Gaius to reach the fridge, Merlin pulled out the milk. "Wow!" he said. "Uther Pendragon? Wasn't it his first meeting?" Gaius nodded. "So who got voted in?"
The twist of Gaius's lips could have been a smile. "Uther," he said.
"Wow again." Merlin frowned as he poured milk into the little breakfast jug. He carried the jug and teapot into the living room and set them on the table. "Isn't there a conflict of interest there?" he asked, coming back for his coffee cup. "What with him being the donor?"
"Apparently not," Gaius said. "Pass me two bowls, would you? I think Cedric's reasoning was that he would be more likely to insist on value for money, because it is his money."
"Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense. So… Is it a good thing? That Uther's in charge now?"
Gaius gave the porridge a last stir and poured it into the bowls Merlin set down on the counter next to him. "I don't know," he said. "I think so. He's a shrewd businessman. When he inherited Pendragon's, twenty-five years ago, it was a small and not hugely profitable provincial company. He's put it on a national footing."
Taking the bowls, while Gaius put the pan in the sink, Merlin asked, "What do they do?"
"Mostly property," Gaius said. He took a last look around the kitchen and followed Merlin through to the table. "It's not a big company. It wouldn't be in the FTSE100, even if it was listed. When he took over it was still a manufacturing business, but he purged it of its deadwood and reduced the range of its operations. Then he began to expand again." He sat down, reached for the sugar and dumped a spoonful into the middle of the porridge in his bowl. "Now it's flourishing and he runs it as his private kingdom. There's even a prince standing by to inherit." He looked up at Merlin and this time his smile was definitely genuine. "Arthur. He was the young man with Uther, yesterday. Although he didn't attend the Board Meeting."
Merlin cocked his head. "You talk like you really know them," he said. "You were friends? Only, when you met him you seemed, I don't know..." He trailed off.
"I did. Know them," Gaius said placidly. "I worked for Uther in the early years. I haven't seen Arthur since he went off to school, though. He's turned into a fine young man."
Merlin picked up his spoon and stirred the porridge in his bowl. "You worked for Pendragons? I didn't know that. How come I didn't know that?"
"There are lots of things about me you don't know," Gaius said. "And no reason why you should. I worked for his father, too."
Pausing with his spoon halfway to his mouth, Merlin asked, "Oh, um, you weren't… I mean… He didn't sack you, did he?"
Gaius raised an affronted eyebrow. "Sack me? Good heavens, no. What makes you think such a thing?"
"Um… Well, you said he'd got rid of a lot of people."
"Ha! And you thought I was one of those – a bit of deadwood?" Gaius's disapproval was more mock than real, so Merlin shrugged apologetically and began to eat.
"I don't know whether to be touched by your concern," Gaius said, "or insulted by the question."
Swallowing, Merlin grinned. "The first one," he suggested. "Definitely the first one."
"Hmm," Gaius said, dubiously. "No, I kept my job. I was actually his Personnel Manager for eighteen years. But I was never ambitious like Uther. Once I'd saved enough to live on in my modest way, I left." He ate for a while in silence, but as he spooned up the last of his porridge he said, "I wasn't sure he'd ever forgive me. For leaving. Thankfully, I was wrong."
Merlin took his bowl from him, stacked it in his own and put them aside while Gaius moved the toast nearer.
"I'm sure he'll have an invigorating effect on the Board," Gaius said, handing Merlin a plate. "He spoke of getting someone from the company to come in on a full-time basis as a proper project manager and I think he's right." Scooping butter onto his knife, he spread it on a slice of toast. "I've become slack in my comfortable existence and haven't been paying enough attention, or lobbying them for enough details. Leaving it to The Board to oversee the project was a mistake. I used to be so business-like too." He grimaced and shrugged. "But I really didn't want to get sucked back into all that wheeling and dealing. It'll be good to have someone who knows how things are done in this electronic age. I have to admit, I am a trifle concerned about the budget."
"How much do we have," Merlin asked. "I mean, how much has the project spent so far?"
"There was a report to The Board last night," Gaius said. "Prepared by Cedric Griggs. He's the Treasurer you know. It had lots of charts and graphs and coloured columns of figures and it seemed to suggest that the spend profile was following the projected curve."
"Do you have a copy?"
"Yes, here." Gaius dug around among a pile of papers on a corner of the table, pulled out a report marked with a large, red 'CONFIDENTIAL, NOT TO BE CIRCULATED FURTHER' at the top and handed it over.
Merlin looked through it while he ate his toast. When Gaius placed another slice on his plate, he smiled his thanks but continued to read while he spread butter and marmalade.
Eventually, he put the report down between them, folded open to the last page. "I don't know much about building works," he said, pointing at a table of figures, "but isn't this saying that more than 40% of the entire budget is already committed. Shouldn't there be more to show for it, if that's true?"
"I suppose, but the infrastructure was in a much poorer state than we anticipated, so the builders' contract is larger than planned. But you're right, of course. I'll have to have a word with Lance, I suppose. Make sure he's aware. Or maybe Gwaine, since he's the one who'll be working on the display designs. I haven't spoken to him for weeks."
Frowning thoughtfully, Merlin asked, "Do you have all the invoices?"
"Of course. At least, I have the ones for everything I've bought and I think I have Dulac and Lott's. Morgana always puts in two copies, so I usually keep one, in case the top copy gets lost in the internal post. I've had too many things go astray to trust the Council's postal system. The builders submit their invoices directly to The Board, which means, Cedric."
"I bet Dulac and Lott get copies, though. They're the architects for the project."
"They might. Yes, I think they do."
"Okay. Well, I have an idea. If someone's coming in to be the project manager, you need to be able to show them what's been spent to date. Something understandable, so you can talk to them."
***
When they reached the office, Merlin pulled his laptop out of his bag, put it on the spare desk in Gaius's workroom and booted it up.
With Gaius hovering behind him, he opened the Excel program he'd had since he was a student. He looked over his shoulder. "Do you have the invoices?" he asked.
Gaius left him to get a box file from the bookshelf by the door. "Here," he said, handing it over.
"These are copies of every one of your bills?" Gaius nodded. "Okay. Well, I don't think it would earn me any accountancy prizes, but the quickest way I know to find out what's been spent, is to add it all up."
Starting at the top of the box, he began a spreadsheet, recording the date of each invoice and the total amount. He inserted a sum to maintain a running total at the top of the sheet. After a while, when he saw similar items repeating, he added extra columns to categorise the spend as display materials, removals work, office consumables, collections management and conservation.
By the time he had finished, the total looked like a lot of money, but was only a small slice out of the entire project budget. "This is just what you've spent locally," he observed, "and some of it could come out of your recurrent funds, but I've put it all together. The biggest bit was relocating the displays to the foyer. Why didn't DuLac and Lott do that job?"
"It was before they were appointed."
"Right. The other big one is all the packaging materials you bought."
"Which the collections needed, to be properly stored when they came off display in such a hurry."
"Okay, what about the Dulac and Lott invoices?"
"They're not in the box?"
"No."
"Oh. So..." Gaius turned around on the spot, as if the missing invoices would declare themselves. "Where did I put them?" he asked himself. "Oh, yes, of course."
He began opening and closing drawers in his desk. "There they are," he said, pulling out a battered looking envelope file. "I knew I had them. I put them in here in case Cedric needed them, but he's never asked."
Merlin took the file from him and pulled out a bundle of papers. "This shouldn't take too long," he said.
At 11am he added the last Dulac and Lott invoice to a total that was larger, but still nowhere near being a threat to the entire budget. Gaius was digging through the papers on his desk, looking for any other invoices he might have mislaid, since there were a few gaps in the sequence, and Merlin started going through the entire pile again, adding additional notes to his spreadsheet.
"They're only copies," Gaius grumbled. "I sent the originals up to the Town Hall for Griggs to pay. I only kept the copies because Morgana sent them. There was no reason to do anything with them, other than shove them in that file. I don't know why they're not all there."
"Well, unless Gwaine and his partner haven't done any work since December, we're missing some," Merlin said as he inserted another blank column to accommodate subtotals.
There was a knock on the door and it opened. A man stuck his head around the edge. "Hi Gaius," he said. "Just to let you know I'm here."
Gaius dropped the papers he had been looking through and straightened up. "Lance! Hello," he said. "Come in, come in, we were just talking about you." He indicated Merlin, who raised a hand in greeting. "Oh, this is my nephew, Merlin. He's staying with me."
Lance came into the room and approached Merlin with a broad smile. "Hi. Gwaine said he'd met you. Is he keeping you busy?" he asked, nodding towards Gaius.
Merlin opened his mouth, but Gaius spoke first. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Lance." He must have seen something in Lance's face because he immediately elaborated. "No, no, I don't want you to give him a job. He wants to collate everything we've spent on the project and I don't seem to have all your invoices."
"I'll ask Morgana to send you copies," Lance said, "Which are you missing?"
"Apparently all of them since Christmas." Gaius shook his head. "And we wondered if you would let Merlin go through your copies of Greenswood's invoices?"
There was a momentary pause before Lance replied, "I would, but we don't get them."
"You don't?"
"No, we're not the project managers," he explained. "All their invoices go to Cedric Griggs. But if we did get copies of any of any of them, Morgana will have them." He ran a hand over his head to the back of his neck. "Actually, I'd be very relieved if someone took a proper look at the budget. I've been asking Cedric for weeks for a clear statement, but he's not given me one."
"Isn't it strange," Gaius asked, "that the invoices from the building contractor don't come through you?"
"Arrangements are different with every job," Lance said. He walked over to a chair and sat down. "We're a young firm. We're not yet in a position to dictate terms, but I've been concerned. I've worked long enough to know that expecting a committee to manage a project is a recipe for disaster. Especially a committee that only meets once a month."
Gaius's shoulders slumped at the word 'disaster' and Merlin cut in. "Do you have any financial information?" he asked.
Lance paused thoughtfully. "We have a copy of the contract," he said, "and we get copies of the QS reports."
"QS?"
"Quantity surveyors."
"Would I get anything from those?"
"You might, but probably not everything. And there are subcontractors' invoices we were instructed to send directly to Griggs."
With a sigh, Gaius said, "I suppose I'll have to go directly to Cedric then." He didn't look very happy about the idea. Turning back to Lance, he asked, "Would you mind if Merlin came up to Market Square and recorded the invoices you've sent to Cedric Griggs?" He shifted uncomfortably. "I don't want you to imagine I'm checking up on you."
Lance appeared surprised by the suggestion. "Oh, no, I didn't think that. He's more than welcome. Today?"
Gaius and Lance both looked at Merlin, who shrugged. "Sure. If that's okay. I could do that."
"Okay," Lance agreed. "I'll call Morgana on my way to my meeting with Leon." He checked his watch. "Which I am now late for. I'd better go; he wants me to inspect the work on the roof."
***
Market Square was more of a rectangle. It was a large cobbled area where the market set up each Thursday, bisected by a tarmacked road. On three sides it was lined by brick terraced houses with the bay windows Gwen had described on ground, first and second floors. Dormer windows stuck up from the tiled roofs. On the fourth side of the square stood the thoroughly modern town library, made of grey concrete and glass in the brutalist style of the 1950's. The road was not busy, but a steady stream of traffic flowed in each direction. Most of it obeyed the local 20mph limit, but the temptation to get up to 30, or even 40, appeared difficult for some drivers to resist.
It was almost three o'clock by the time Merlin pushed open the door next to the brass plaque that read 'Dulac and Lott, Architects' and went in. Inside, the small foyer was enclosed by a modern, glazed, inner door, beyond which the original entrance hall was tiled like a chessboard in alternating black and white and was dominated by a curved staircase, below which stood a reception desk.
"I've come to see Morgana," Merlin explained.
The receptionist smiled and picked up her telephone handset. "She said you were coming. Go on up. Top floor, the door on the left." Merlin nodded his thanks and went.
When he reached the top of the stairs, he was faced by three doors and he tapped lightly on the one on his left. It opened under the pressure, so he pushed it further and peeked around the edge.
The small office beyond was painted all in white with a pale brown carpet. The ceiling sloped down almost to the floor and in this awkward space, a woman sat at one of two desks that were set facing each other under the dormer window. She was talking on the phone, but beckoned him in, so he went and hovered awkwardly, trying not to appear as if he was listening to her conversation.
"No, I put it in the post yesterday," she said. "Yes, first class. You should have got it this morning. Well, I suppose if the office junior was late going to the post office. No, I'll check. Yes, certainly. No, if it doesn't arrive tomorrow... Yes, it will be. Absolutely. Yes... No, thank you. Good-bye." She put the phone down and looked up at Merlin with a sigh of exasperation. "They're so hopeless," she said. "The number of lies I tell for them. But Lance will have to sign that cheque today. We can't afford to lose McWilliams' goodwill as a supplier." She picked up a coffee mug. "You must be Merlin. Hi. Do you want a coffee?" she asked, getting to her feet. She waved at the empty desk. "Grab a seat."
She was an elegant woman, dressed in an emerald green blouse and grey trousers that looked tailored to fit. A matching jacket was slung around the back of her chair.
Merlin pulled out the chair belonging to the other desk and sat down. "Would love one," he said. "Thank you."
She took her mug over to a sink in the corner of the room and rinsed it out. "Lance warned me you'd be coming up," she said, pouring coffee from the jug of a large filter machine into her mug and into a second one.
"He said he was a bit concerned."
"He is?" she asked, laughing outright - a peal of notes that ran down the scale. "He's concerned because I told him to be." She held up one of the mugs. "Milk? Sugar?"
"No, not if it's real coffee. Black, please. Thank you."
"Much as I love them, neither Lance nor Gwaine are as interested in money as they should be," she said, "considering it's their company. They work hard. Lance is always in first in the morning. He comes in on Saturdays, too. But try to interest them in the business side?" She shook her head as she poured a dash of milk into one of the mugs. "I gave Lance an invoice to deliver once and it spent four days in his briefcase before I managed to rescue it and put it in the post." She grinned at him over her shoulder, inviting him to join her in her affectionate exasperation.
Merlin found himself smiling back. There was something about her that made it impossible not to. "I'm glad you're doing it," she said as she walked back across the room. "Working out what's been spent. I was thinking of trying to do something similar myself, but I don't have all the invoices, either." She set a mug of coffee on the desk in front of him. "I love the museum," she said, resuming her own seat. "I often pop in to eat my lunch with Gwen. And I help her with the Museum Club, most Saturdays."
"Uncle Gaius has asked me to do that too, so I'll probably see you there." Merlin smiled and hefted his bag onto the desk. "I'm not an accountant," he said, "but I know how to add up a load of numbers." He pulled out his laptop. "At least, I do if I have a computer to do the actual adding up. And if we're going to get a proper project manager, it seems like a good idea to know where we stand before he arrives."
"I cleared that desk for you when Lance rang," she said. "A proper project manager?" Merlin pulled out his mains lead and looked for a power point. "Underneath, at the side," she said.
Pushing his chair away, Merlin got down on his hands and knees, peered around until he spotted the socket set into the skirting board and forced the plug in. Crawling back out, he paused with his head above the edge of the desk. "Thanks," he said and got to his feet. "Yes, apparently Uther Pendragon has offered to send someone down to manage the project properly, instead of leaving it to the Board of Trustees."
"Has he? Well, that sounds like a good idea, I suppose. Do we know their name?"
"No, probably some poor sod who'd rather stay in London and do their real job, but with a bit of luck, they'll not make things worse."
"Let's hope not," she agreed. "All the invoices for the Museum are in the top drawer of that cabinet there, with a detailed breakdown clipped to the back of each." She waved a hand at the right most of a row of three filing cabinets. "Have at it and welcome. I'll be really interested to hear what you come up with, when you add it in with the rest."
"It's the Greenswood invoices I can't get at yet. Gaius is going to ask Cedric Griggs."
"Well, I hope you manage it. I have payroll to do today, but do ask if you can't find anything."
Merlin took a quick sip of his coffee and went to retrieve the contents of the top drawer of the filing cabinet.
They spent the rest of the afternoon in companionable silence. Merlin discovered that Morgana's copies of the DuLac and Lott invoices had a lot more detail than the copies Gaius had, so he deleted what he had already recorded for them and started that section of his spreadsheet again.
There were also new invoices from a couple of technical and shop-fitting companies that listed model construction. One mentioned thatching. "Excuse me, but do you know what this was for?" he asked, handing the invoice over the desks to Morgana.
She took it and glanced at the invoice from Lakeview Partners, and the covering one from Dulac and Lott. "Oh, that was a job Cedric had us commission," she said. "We engaged Lakeview to build a model of a mediaeval farmhouse. They're shop-fitters. There was a sample of thatching too. It was a one-off job. And we made a small commission on the deal." She shrugged. "The model was delivered to the town hall and we never heard anything else about it."
"Oh, right, thanks." Merlin took the paper back and added the cost to his spreadsheet, under the heading 'display design'.
At five, Morgana threw him out, since she was going home and he packed his laptop away.
"The office will be open from 8:30," she said as they walked down the stairs. "But whenever suits."
Laughing, Merlin shook his head. "I can promise it won't be 8:30." He opened the front door for her and bowed as she passed him. "I'll go into the museum first, Gaius wants to initiate me into the wonders of collections management," he said when he joined her on the pavement outside. "But I really want to do this, so I'll come up mid-morning, if that's okay?"
"Absolutely. I'll see you then."
He watched her walk away, before turning himself to head in the opposite direction and home.
***
Store room 131 was a mess. There was no other word for it. Merlin didn't need museum training to see that. Some wooden shelving along one wall was packed full of old cardboard boxes and there were more scattered across the floor. "This is the worst," Gaius said. "They were all like this when I arrived. Over the years I've managed to put some order into most of them. I've simply never managed to get to this one."
"So now that I'm here, you think it's a perfect place for me to start?" Merlin asked.
"Exactly, my boy. You're young and full of energy. You'll have it sorted out in no time. Come on, I'll show you what to do. Grab that one," he said, pointing at a large cardboard box near their feet. "And bring it through to the workroom."
Merlin picked up the box and carried it back to Gaius's workroom, where he set it on the round table and cautiously peeled back the flaps. Inside was what looked like a lump of dirty, old, cotton cloth.
Gingerly, he lifted it away to expose the dull gleam of brass. Mixed in with a couple of spectacles cases (containing wireframe glasses), three matchboxes (two empty), a toy car (vintage Rolls-Royce, two inches long), five nib pens (stained with black ink), half a dozen watercolour seascapes (of dubious quality) and a man's silk scarf (once white, with a short fringe) was a large brass compass. Merlin lifted it out and put it on the table next to the rest of the objects.
"That's a good haul to start with," Gaius observed. "Judging by the mixture, I doubt any of it was accessioned, but you need to be sure. The compass will be the easiest. Come over here and I'll show you where to start checking."
Three quarters of an hour later Merlin had worked his way through most of the first decade in the accessions register with no success, when a knock sounded on the door and provided a momentary break from deciphering ancient handwriting.
"Come in," Gaius called and the door opened to admit Arthur Pendragon, followed by the other young man Merlin had seen when Uther arrived.
"Dr Leech?" Arthur said, approaching Gaius. "It's good to see you again." He turned slightly to indicate his companion. "This is my colleague, Pell Arimath. I believe you are expecting us?"
"No," Gaius said cautiously. "I don't believe we were, although it's obviously a pleasure."
"Ah," Arthur said. "I'm sorry. It appears a message has gone astray. My father has asked me to act as his representative, to see if we can get this project back on track."
"On track?"
"Yes. I've read the most recent financial report and I am going to see Mr Griggs, this afternoon."
"You're the project manager?" Merlin blurted.
Arthur turned slowly to look down his nose at Merlin, although behind him his colleague appeared to be trying to smother a grin. "I am," he said. "And I believe it is an indication of the importance my father places on this project that he has asked me to manage it, at least until we have established some regular order."
Gaius rose and walked out from behind his desk to shake Arthur's hand warmly. "That's wonderful," he said.
Arthur glanced around the room again and Gaius added, "Oh, this is Merlin, he's helping me tidy up the store rooms, before we move the rest of the collections out."
Merlin got to his feet and Pell came over to shake his hand. Arthur stayed where he was, but offered Merlin a nod of acknowledgement.
"Shall we...?" Gaius asked, indicating the round table.
"Thank you. I'm very interested in your view of what still needs to be done," Arthur said as they took their seats.
Merlin turned back to his work and kept his head down, scanning the register entries while he listened to their conversation.
Arthur proved adept at drawing Gaius out. Within minutes Gaius was telling him all about the history of the redevelopment project and his vision for the museum and its collections. Arthur's questions were open ended and well placed, encouraging him to be expansive. Pell was mostly silent.
After describing his work, what the museum was like before most of it was turned into a building site and his own priorities when deciding whether to accept a donation to the collections from the occasional walk-in, Gaius said, "I'd like to make full use of the local strength in the collections. Get more of it on display. We have some wonderful objects that can really illuminate life in Camelot over a thousand years and more. Some of them are of national, even international importance."
Merlin glanced over his shoulder at them and saw that Arthur was sitting comfortably, but was watching Gaius with alert attention. Pell appeared to be taking notes.
Arthur cocked his head. "What's been preventing you?" he asked.
Gaius also looked relaxed. Merlin guessed that he was enjoying holding court on a subject he loved. He smiled ruefully. "Money, mostly. But also talent. Display is not my area of strength." Arthur made a politely disbelieving sound and Gaius shook his head. "It's true," he said. "At the moment there's a small band of loyal supporters, who love this place because it's quaint. They come because they know it, it's familiar, and they admire the Victorian display cases in the Ticket Office as much as the things they hold. I always worried that I could destroy that, without replacing it with anything better."
Arthur smiled sympathetically. "What is your area of strength?" he asked.
"I know the collections. And I know the story they could tell." Gaius's voice as firm with conviction. "Many of our older and more valuable objects are on display in the two side galleries, although many more are packed away. And we also have a fine collection of later items that have local significance, or illustrate the way the people of Camelot used to live. This compass, for example," he said, picking it up to demonstrate. "It has no number on it. It's not important in itself. It's not locally made. But it may well have belonged to someone significant. So, Merlin's looking for the donation records before we consider how it should be displayed, if it should be displayed." He put the compass down again and sat back in his chair. "Even if it were not that the building is being repaired, this money from your father will make a huge difference. We've never had enough in the budget to do more than muddle along. I've known for years that a proper inventory was needed, but it's slow going, working alone." Arthur glanced over at Merlin, who made a show of running his finger down the page to the bottom and turning to the next. "But I'm boring you," Gaius said.
Arthur's voice was polite, but Merlin could almost believe that he meant it when he said, "Not at all."
"I know I am," Gaius insisted. "Perhaps the best thing would be if you could see the things, themselves." He raised his voice slightly. "Merlin?"
Merlin had reached 1908 and still not seen the donation record of a brass compass. He looked up. "Yes?"
Turning back to Arthur and Pell, Gaius said, "I'm sure Merlin would be happy to give you the tour of the galleries that we didn't manage the other day. My legs, you understand, they're not what they were."
"Of course," Merlin said, getting to his feet.
Arthur smiled coolly. It certainly didn't reach his eyes. "If you'd be so kind," he said, pushing his chair back and standing.
"You've already seen the Great Hall?"
"Yes," Pell replied. "Leon took us through it yesterday."
Arthur thanked Gaius for his time and with a glance at Gaius, Merlin ushered them from the room.
Outside, they paused while Arthur had a short, quiet conversation with Pell. Merlin waited for them a few yards away, with his hands on the rail. When they joined him, Pell smiled. "I'm going to go and see Leon, again," he said, holding out his hand.
Merlin took it automatically and they shook. "Oh," he said. He glanced at Arthur. "Do you...?"
"No," Arthur said. "Please, if you don't mind, I'd be glad of a tour."
"Maybe you can show me around another time?" Pell suggested.
"Sure, yes, okay," Merlin agreed. He watched Pell leave, turning back to lean both hands on the balcony as Pell descended the stairs. Beside him Arthur mirrored his stance.
"Do you know the history?" Merlin asked.
"The history?"
"Of the building, how it was supposed to be the town's railway station, but the railway never reached it and it got turned into a museum?"
"With minimal alteration," Arthur said. "Yes, I know that story."
"Oh good. Because I'd need to get Gwen to do that bit. She knows it better than me and, well, tells it better too." Merlin rubbed his hands together. "So we'll just do a tour of the stores and galleries then."
He took Arthur into the new, tidy store rooms along the corridor above the Ticket Office first, before taking him to see Room 131, just to reinforce the points Gaius had made about how much work parts of the collections still needed. Arthur looked around and nodded while Merlin's repeated the things Gaius had explained to him. He seemed genuinely interested in the process of the inventory and of registering and caring for the objects.
"You like museums," Merlin observed.
Arthur appeared surprised by the comment. "I suppose I do," he said. "I like the idea that someone is looking after our history."
"I guess it must run in the family. The Museum was set up by a Pendragon and now your father's restoring it. Or did you talk him into it?"
Arthur laughed. "I didn't even know it existed until last week." They turned and left the room. As Merlin locked the door behind them, Arthur said, almost to himself, "It appears my father has at least one sentimental bone in his body."
Something in his voice made Merlin think that the idea had never occurred to him before and for some reason he felt impelled to break the mood. "Come and see the galleries," he said.
As they descended the stairs, he recounted some of what Gwen had told him about Thomas Pendragon and Arthur listened attentively.
They crossed to the Ticket Office and Arthur paused on the threshold. He looked around at the regimented display cases with their regularly spaced shelves full of fossilised shells, mineral samples, bits of mining equipment, birds' eggs and small stuffed animals. "Oh," he said, walking into the room.
Leaning over the glass topped table, he studied the tray of faded butterflies and shook his head, before moving on to consider a miner's helmet, lamp and tally token. "I suppose it does have a sort of period charm," he observed, "but it looks like someone emptied their junk box onto the shelves."
"This is good," Merlin said, pointing at a fossilised fish and a collection of Stone Age tools in the other side of the glass topped table. Arthur walked around to look. "The fossil was found in the cliffs above Rosebeck and the tools were discovered in the middle of the village green.
Arthur made a harrumphing noise and took a few steps towards the door. Taking the hint, Merlin led him out into the foyer. He appeared a little more interested in the Victorian objects and spent a good twenty seconds studying the Pendragon & Burnt Artists' Paint Box from all available angles.
"The Ladies Waiting Room is through here," Merlin said when he straightened up.
Inside the Ladies Waiting Room Arthur paused again, his expression alert, and he glanced around as if searching for something. His eyes fixed on the two mummies and he went over to look at them. "They're a long way from home," he observed.
Merlin laughed. "Yeah. They don't really fit in with the rest of the collections. Gaius says they're more trouble than they're worth."
"I'd have thought –"
"Not worth financially. Worth to the Museum. A Professor from Oxford came to see them and said they were deteriorating. Gaius had to spend a fortune on that climate controlled display case, to stop the rot, but it's not enough. Apparently they're pretty unique, as specimens. Most examples from that period were destroyed by grave robbers."
"So the museum has to look after them, but doesn't want them?"
"Yeah, not really. Gaius says they attract a few academics, but they need a lot of expensive care. He says they'd be better off as part of a bigger Egyptian collection. He has a plan about that."
Arthur nodded judiciously and continued walking around the edge of the room, but he came to a halt in front of the pre-Saxon case. He let out a soft sigh and bent to take a closer look at the gold armbands and the sword hilts. Merlin felt oddly disappointed. "Yeah, they're pretty special aren't they?" he said.
Arthur straightened. "Yes, they are," he said briskly. "The old hotel kitchens are beyond this wall?"
"Um... Oh, yeah. I think so. I haven't been through there. The domestic life displays were there, but we can't get in at the moment. The only safe access is through the Great Hall."
"Right," Arthur said. He turned on the spot. "Is that it then? Have we seen it all?"
"Yes, the carriages and the other big things from the Great Hall are stored in a warehouse on the Riverside Estate."
Arthur spun back to face him. "Owned or rented?" he asked.
"Er… rented, I think."
"I don't remember seeing anything about that in the financial report," Arthur said, more to himself than to Merlin.
Merlin decided to answer him, anyway. "No, nor do I," he agreed. Arthur shot him a sharp look. "Yes, I've read it," Merlin said. "Gaius showed it to me."
Arthur didn't pick that up. Instead he said, "I need a proper list of commitments. I'm seeing Griggs this afternoon, but so far no one seems to have any idea of the budget."
"I've, well, I've sort of started doing something on that," Merlin admitted. "I've been through Gaius's invoices and recorded it all. And I went to Dulac and Lott's office, yesterday, to see what they have. I'm going back today, to finish. But I think Cedric Griggs has most of it."
"How long have you worked here?" Arthur asked. "I suppose the Council pays your salary. I didn't see you listed in the project budget, either."
"I just started," Merlin said. He wasn't really sure why he didn't clarify his employment status.
"So did the Board give you the task of collating the expenditure, or was that Gaius?"
That brought Merlin up short. "Um… Well, I suppose it was me, really." Arthur's brows rose, so he added hurriedly, "But Gaius thought it was a good idea."
Arthur had stopped pacing and was regarding him through narrowed eyes. "You talked yourself into a job?" he asked. "I didn't have you pegged for such a go-getter."
Merlin wasn't sure if that was intended as a compliment, or not. It didn't feel like one.
***
When he arrived at DuLac & Lott's offices much later than he had intended, Morgana had gone out, but there was coffee in the pot. There was also a card propped against the kettle that read, "Merlin – help yourself to coffee. Back soon. M."
He had worked his way through another three invoices by the time she returned. Her entrance heralded by the sound of her footsteps running up the stairs and he swivelled in his chair to greet her.
He had been struck by her presence the day before, although she'd spent most of the afternoon with her head down and her glasses balanced on the end of her nose. That afternoon, as she swept into the room, she was a queen and there was no question but that everyone she met would bow before her. She paused in the doorway before she noticed him. Then, she caught his eye and the facade of regal aloofness shattered when she smiled with pleasure and Merlin found himself on his feet and walking across the room towards her. "Coffee?" he asked and veered towards the sink.
She shrugged her handbag down onto her desk and flopped into her chair, somehow still looking elegant as she did so. "Please," she replied.
Merlin squinted at her. "You look more carefree than you did yesterday."
"Yesterday I had payroll to run. Today, a cheque arrived in the post, which I have now banked, and I can relax in the knowledge that we can cover all our bills for a while."
"A cheque for the Museum?"
"No, another project we've almost finished. A country house near Blackthorn."
"I've not been out that way since I was a kid," Merlin said as he poured her coffee. "I remember climbing the Tor and having a picnic at the top."
She looked up. "I didn't know you're from around here."
"I'm not really. We lived with Uncle Gaius when I was very young. But we moved to Ealdor when I was seven."
Morgana picked up her handbag and pushed it into the bottom drawer of her desk. "Was it for work?" she asked. "What does your dad do?"
"No dad. Just my Mum." Merlin passed her her coffee, picked up his own mug and returned to the coffee machine to top it up. "She's a farmer and an agricultural consultant for DEFRA. She advises other farmers who want to switch to organic production."
Morgana laughed. "Well, that serves me right for thinking in stereotypes," she admitted. "What's your mum like?"
Sitting down again, Merlin leaned back in his chair and took a sip of coffee. "She's brilliant," he said.
There was something wistful in Morgana's expression when she observed, "And you love her."
"Of course."
Nodding, Morgana smiled. "Must be nice," she said.
Merlin put his mug down and sat up. "Oh, I'm sorry, umm...."
She shook her head. "It's okay," she said. "My mother died when I was very young. I don't really remember her." Merlin made a soft sound of sympathy, but she smiled again and sat back in her chair, propping her feet up on the corner of her desk. She waved her hand and the red stone in the ring on her left hand caught the light. In an airy, studied voice she said, "My father didn't want to know us, so I was raised by my Aunt Lucy. She lives in a cottage in the grounds of the old family estate."
Going for a lighter note, Merlin widened his eyes. "Family estate? Wow, that sounds impressive."
Morgana's grin was more natural when she replied, "Not so very impressive. And not even a family estate any more. It was sold to pay my grandfather's debts." She was twisting her ring around on her finger in a way that looked habitual. The mannerism seemed strangely out of character. "Some actor bought it ten years ago and never comes near the place. It's just outside Lilebrook."
"So, do you commute?" he asked.
"Oh, gods, no," she said. "I don't want a car. I have a flat here in town."
"It's a nice town."
"Yeah, it is. There are times I can't imagine living anywhere else." She sounded pensive again. "But, there are times when I just want to get out and go anywhere else. Just to be away."
"That's almost exactly what my friend Will said about Ealdor," Merlin agreed.
"And what did he do?"
"He's in London now."
"And you came here."
"Yeah, well. There's no work in Ealdor. I thought about going back to York. I was at university there. But I remember Camelot from being a kid. And Uncle Gaius is here, so it was easy." He laughed, slightly embarrassed, and tried to make a joke of it. "I'm all for an easy life."
Morgana allowed her feet to drop back down to the floor. "Here's to that," she agreed, pulling her chair in to her desk. "I hope it stays that way." Pushing her coffee mug away, she opened the top drawer of her desk. "I suppose I'd better get to work," she said. "Before the next crisis jumps out at me."
"Gwen said you keep this company afloat."
"I do my best. They don't always make it easy. But I suppose I enjoy the challenge." She smiled politely and asked, "How are you doing with your task?"
Merlin looked down at the invoice he was working from. "I've got to January already. I'll be out of your hair, soon."
"You're no trouble," she said, turning to her own work. She looked up again. "I'm expecting a pretty big invoice from one of the subcontractors on the display side, next week. But we send those straight through to Griggs and he pays them. I don't think you'll have a complete picture until you get his numbers added into the mix."
***
Merlin did finish going through Morgana's papers that day, so they had a total figure and far more detail about what the money had been spent on than before, but there were still big holes in their knowledge. He reported this to Gaius that evening and Gaius in turn told him about a meeting he'd had with Arthur Pendragon. Arthur was apparently not happy with Cedric Griggs and had promised that Griggs' papers would be delivered to the museum for Merlin to catalogue, within three days. In the meantime Merlin returned to museum work and spent Friday getting dirty in room 131.
***
On Saturday he met up with Gwen and Morgana to help Gwen run a Museum Club meeting for a group of fifteen children between the ages of six and ten. He didn't have to do much except sit at the back while they watched a video about geology followed by Gwen showing them the kinds of fossils that could be found in the area. After that, he wandered around admiring the pictures the kids had settled down to draw and did his best to answer their many questions.
Afterwards, he helped tidy up the mess.
"What do I do with these?" he asked, indicating a few pictures that had been left behind.
"I keep them for two weeks," Gwen said. "In case they meant to take them home, but forgot in the bid for freedom. If they're not claimed after that, they go in the bin."
"Right," he said and started to gather them together.
Gwen was carefully packing fossils away in a tray while Morgana chucked felt tip pens, pencils and crayons into two plastic toolboxes. Merlin rolled up the remains of the big roll of paper the children had been drawing on and leaned it against the wall next to the door.
Between them they dismantled the tables and stored them in the cupboard that had once been the ladies loo, along with the AV equipment.
They had just closed the door when a visitor entered the room. She was elderly, wore a tweed twinset and hat and had a string of pearls around her neck.
"Good morning, Miss Kay," Gwen said. "Isn't it a beautiful day?"
"It is very fine," the lady replied. She walked around the room, inspecting the exhibits, but not dwelling on them. It was as if she was simply checking they were all there. Pausing in front of the mummies, she studied them with more intensity, before moving on with a, "Hmm…"
Morgana picked up one of the trays of fossils. "I'll take these upstairs," she said.
Merlin was struggling to find the balance point on the roll of paper that would allow him to clamp it under his armpit, leaving his hands free for the boxes of crayons and pens. Gwen had just picked up the other tray of fossils, when the visitor spoke. "Will you introduce me to your friend, Miss Smith?"
When Gwen nodded, it almost looked like a bow. "Of course," she said. "This is Merlin. He's helping out here until something better comes along. Merlin, this is Miss Kay. She's a regular visitor."
Miss Kay's smile seemed genuinely friendly, although she had a stiff, old-fashioned manner. She was at least in her 70s and exhibited an air of gentility that carried with it a strong suggestion that she had never felt the need to question her rights or her place in society. "Finding a better thing does not necessarily require one to move," she said. Her gaze, while she studied him, was intense and slightly intimidating. "Merlin," she said, rolling the word across her tongue. "How appropriate. You are a presentable young man. I imagine they had you doing the meet and greet and the guided tour when the prince came to visit."
"Umm, sorry?" Merlin asked.
"I'll see you soon, Merlin," she said. "Destiny cannot be avoided. It has already arrived on your doorstep; you must look and you will see it."
"O-Kay," Merlin said, but he was already talking to her back.
She swept out of the room, pausing at the door to add, "It comes in its own time and it cannot be diverted."
Merlin looked back at Gwen, who smiled brightly. "Well, we'd best get these things packed away," she said.
When they reached the foyer, Miss Kay was nowhere to be seen and Merlin heaved a dramatic sigh. "She's…," he hesitated, "odd," he said.
"Odder than usual, today," Gwen agreed as they climbed the stairs. "She comes in fairly often, but she doesn't usually say much."
***
Uther did not visit again, although Gaius said he had called a few times with questions. Merlin had a couple of sightings of Arthur or Pell in the foyer. Arthur only ever spared him a brief smile and a nod of recognition, but Pell would usually pause to exchange greetings and polite observations on the weather. On one occasion they laboured through an entire five minutes discussing the performance of Camelot FC in the Championship, before they realised that neither of them really cared about professional football. On the whole Merlin had nothing to do with them and Arthur seemed to have forgotten his promise to extract Cedric Griggs' papers from him, for Merlin to collate. According to Pell he was holed up with Leon going through the structural plans and getting a picture of the work still required to bring the building up to spec.
"What's he like to work with?" Merlin asked. "And what do you do?"
Pell laughed. "The word you want is 'for'," he said. "Not 'with'." He shrugged. "He's all right. Can be a bit stiff. This job has come in on top of everything else he does, so I'm mostly running interference on the rest. As much as I can, anyway. He works hard. And he expects the same from those who work for him."
Merlin nodded. "Bit of a slave-driver, is he?" he asked, sympathetically. "He seems a bit..." he trailed off.
Pell paused to consider before he answered. "He's a good boss," he said, eventually. "I think he's probably a lot of fun, socially, but..." He shrugged again. "He's his father's son and there's a lot expected of him. Don't judge him too harshly until you get to know him." He looked at his watch and grinned. "But right now, I'm going to be late and that is not a good thing."
He hurried off and Merlin watched him disappear into the Great Hall, before he continued on his way up the stairs.
***
The Museum was open on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursday to Saturday, although Gaius explained that he usually went in on Wednesdays too. Wednesday was when the local paper published its situations vacant column, so Merlin stayed at home. During the rest of the week he became very familiar with room 131, spending hours with a clipboard and catalogue cards, going through the shelves, one after another.
Every accession number was recorded and he started keeping a list on his laptop, so he could identify which items in the collection he had located. For the first couple of days Gaius joined him, deciding how the objects should be packed for safety and preservation, and instructing Merlin in the proper procedures, but once he was confident that Merlin knew what he was doing, he left him to it.
Merlin rescued tea sets, photograph albums, horseshoes, old hand tools, glass fronted cases of stuffed birds and various obscure pieces of agricultural and mining machinery from the shelves and floor, and packed them away in clean, clearly labelled boxes, or parcelled them in bubble wrap and placed them in indexed spaces on the shelves. Most of the objects did have numbers, although some of them were almost illegible. Many did not. There was one corner where it seemed that objects had been received and unceremoniously dumped with no one ever coming back to complete the task of recording them. In some cases the original donation documents were stuffed in the boxes with the items. Merlin collected those together to file properly. Eventually the whole collection would have to be moved again, but he took pride in making sure Gaius would know what they were moving when that time came.
Gaius became quite excited about some of the things Merlin uncovered. A nineteenth century collection of coins was put aside to be valued and locked away in the safe at the town hall, as was an old box full of stamp albums. A child's hand, in pure white marble, that looked as if it had been broken from a large sculpture, was carefully examined before being sent away to the British Museum for dating, while photographs of a small Chinese vase and an ivory monkey were sent to the V&A for identification.
It was during his second week, when he was on his way to Gaius's office, that he saw Lance in the foyer below, opening the access door to the Great Hall. Merlin was still convinced that there should be more to show for the money spent. Without pausing to think of an excuse for wanting to see it, he called out, "Lance!" and when Lance looked up, he clattered down the stairs. "Can I come with you and have another look?" he asked.
Lance nodded. "Of course." He opened the plywood door and stepped through, took a couple of hard hats from a row of pegs just beyond and handed one to Merlin.
The Great Hall looked even bigger than it had the first time Merlin had seen it. "Wow!" he said, "This place is amazing. It really is."
Lance looked around. "Yes, there really is room for a whole street in here," he agreed. "This is a fantastic project, you know. The building's not in too bad a state, considering that a lot of it was out of sight and has been neglected for decades, but there's more than enough to keep it interesting. Gwaine's totally in his element, too. He's our interiors person. I tend to concentrate on the bricks and mortar." He smiled slightly. "He says the difficulty here is to break up the space without compromising the original architecture. Someone on the Board of this place suggested making a pathway, a single route through the displays."
"Like IKEA?" Merlin asked and Lance laughed.
"Yes, although I think they had something more like Jorvik in mind. He managed to talk them out of that, although it was difficult. The more recent ideas are much more imaginative." He broke off.
Merlin followed his gaze and saw Leon clambering down from a length of scaffolding against the far wall. "Ah, there's the man I need to talk to," Lance said and waved. "Leon!" he called. He turned briefly to Merlin. "Sorry, looks like duty calls."
"No problem," Merlin said, "I can let myself out." He took a last look around the walls, noting this time the areas of rust on the roof girders, the cracks in the upper walls and the broken glass in the skylight. The place where the edges of the platforms had been could be traced by a slight but significant difference in the level of the floor and the lino tiles that still covered the area of the 20th-century gallery space were dirty and peeling. But beyond that, the alternating yellow and red brick, the impressive span of the roof and the ornate cast iron pillars that supported it, were testament to the solidity and confidence of Victorian engineering and design.
He took his hard hat off and hung it back on its hook, before working the Yale lock on the door and letting himself out.
*****
In the time Merlin was not crawling around in the store rooms getting filthy, he continued to look for paid work. In spite of being a large town, compared to Ealdor, there were far fewer jobs than he had expected. Camelot suffered from being just outside comfortable commuting range to London and although it was both historic and surrounded by beautiful countryside, its economy appeared to have been badly hit by the recession.
During the afternoon of his third Wednesday in Camelot, he bought a copy of the Camelot Echo on his way back from the Job Centre and was in his room searching the situations vacant column, again, in the hope that he had missed its continuation. For all his staring there remained only four jobs that week, two of them part-time. He studied the other two; one was a receptionist at a tanning salon and the other was for a shop assistant in a shoe shop. Both would be flooded by applicants with actual experience of customer service.
He folded up the paper, turned to his laptop and began to consider the idea of moving to London. There was no question that Will would put him up until he found his feet, but he loved Camelot. It was where all his best childhood memories belonged. The place where every day stretched for ever and was filled with cowboys and Indians in the back alley, pirates across the cobbled sea and princes, knights and dragons on the patch of waste ground around the corner. It was the place where the sun shone every day, except when the snow lay deep enough to threaten the tops of his wellybobs. Coming back to the tiny house on Francis Street had been like coming home.
London was too big; he always felt smothered by its endless streets. In Camelot, he knew the Tor was only half an hour's bus ride away, even if he never went up there. Camelot gave him room to breathe, as Ealdor never really had.
He didn't hear the front door, and didn't realise the time until Gaius called up the stairs, "There's a letter here for you. It looks official."
Closing his laptop on a vacancy for a lab tech in a secondary school in Lambeth, he went to the top of the stairs. "Probably a rejection from Avalon Cosmetics," he said, as he climbed down. "That's the only one I sent off last week." Taking the envelope, he ripped it open. The first words of the first paragraph were, "Thank you for your application for the position of Assistant Technician at our Camelot site. I am sorry to inform you..." He didn't bother reading further, simply folded it and stuffed it back in its envelope. He'd look at it properly later. In the meantime, he relieved Gaius of the carrier bag of shopping he was holding and took it through to the kitchen to unpack. "At least they wrote back," he said. "I'll cook supper, if you point me at the ingredients. You want a cup of tea, before?"
"A cup of tea would be good," Gaius agreed, "but I have to go out again in an hour. There's another board meeting and I've been asked to attend. Tell you what," he said, digging in his pocket and pulling out his wallet. "I'll make the tea, if you'll run out to the chippy and get us both fish and chips?"
***
When his alarm went off the next morning, the house was quiet. Gaius had still been out when Merlin retreated to his own room to watch his season six Supernatural DVDs on his laptop and he'd fallen asleep without going back downstairs. He got up, dragged his tracksuit bottoms on, bundled up some clean clothes and made his way carefully down the steep staircase. After a wash and with the kettle on, he went back into the living room. It is only then that he noticed Gaius, asleep in his chair in front of the fireplace. A glass and a brandy bottle stood on the floor beside him.
Merlin retreated to the kitchen as quietly as he could.
With morning tea drunk and Gaius washed and changed into fresh clothes, Merlin put a large bowl of porridge in front of him and sat down with his own. "You fell asleep downstairs," he observed as an icebreaker. Gaius grunted, concentrating on his spoon and bowl. "With brandy," Merlin added.
At that Gaius looked up and scowled. "Don't sound so moralistic, boy," he said. "I'll drink if I want." He caught Merlin's eye and belatedly realised that Merlin was teasing. His scowl softened into a quirk of a smile. "I needed to think," he said. "After the meeting."
"That bad?"
Putting his spoon down, Gaius clasped his hands together across his bowl. "It would appear that over the past six months Cedric has been going off on his own, commissioning design plans from Gwaine without proper Board approval. He even commissioned some off-site construction."
Merlin stared. "How did he do that, without you knowing?"
Gaius's face fell and he suddenly looked very tired. "He says it was reported to The Board, but I might not have been there. I wasn't a member." He frowned. "And I can't imagine he told them how much such work costs."
"But that's stupid," Merlin exclaimed. "That you aren't a member of the Board, I mean."
"Maybe, but the membership was drawn up in 1882 and has never been reviewed since. The curator may attend, by invitation." He shrugged. "I wasn't always invited." He picked up his spoon but didn't start eating. "I never questioned it," he said, "because I didn't care. As long as they left me alone. I should've done something about it, as soon as I found out how much money Uther was giving us. But," he shrugged again, "I suppose I didn't think."
"Why didn't Lance or Gwaine tell you what was going on?"
"I can only presume they thought I knew. It does throw a few of their comments into a clearer light, however. And one small positive is that I am now a member of The Board. Uther pushed that one through, last night." He dug his spoon into his porridge and turned it over a few times. "But it's the only good thing."
"What else happened?"
"Uther was furious about the wasted money. Especially when I explained that we don't have enough objects of the right sort in the collections to fill such a design. Apparently, Cedric had the bright idea of a street that stretched the length of the Great Hall, with a Stone Age house at one end and the twentieth century the other."
"Did they have streets in the Stone Age?"
That elicited an almost-smile. "You wouldn't have thought so, would you?" Gaius agreed. "I think Cedric might be forced to resign. You'll get all his papers to catalogue."
"I was supposed to get them last week. But that's good."
"Uther also blames Dulac and Lott." Gaius sounded uncomfortable at the admission.
"It's not their fault if they took orders from the Treasurer," Merlin objected.
"No, but maybe they should have questioned them. I don't know. Uther wanted to bring in his own architects to do the interior design."
"He sacked Lance and Gwaine?"
"No. They have a contract, but design work has been put on hold until the work on the structure is complete. He's agreed to pay Lance and Gwaine for the work done to date."
With mounting indignation, Merlin scowled. "And I suppose he agreed to that from his innate sense of justice?" he said.
Gaius sounded even more defensive when he replied, "There was nothing in writing. There was some discussion around what was legally required and what should be considered fair and I don't think Uther had a problem with the eventual decision."
It was in a mood of mutual peevishness that they finished their breakfast and set off for the Museum. But it was a beautiful day, the shop windows were full of chicks, bunnies and chocolate eggs, the sky was dappled clear blue and white, and the air smelt of promise. By the time they got within fifty yards of the Museum, Merlin was no longer trailing behind and Gaius had slowed to a relaxed, shambling walk. "How are you getting on with room 131?" he asked.
"Finished that one. I have a whole load of things that don't have numbers, so I'll go through the registers today and see if I can find them."
"Good, good," Gaius agreed. "You can show me what you've done, first thing, if you like."
Since he recognised a peace offering when he heard one, even if he didn't need it, Merlin nodded. "Yeah, okay," he said. "It's really tidy now."
***
After Gaius had inspected his work and approved it, Merlin spent the rest of the morning with the accessions registers, trailing his finger down the entries, looking for any registered items that sounded like the orphans he had placed on the unidentified objects shelf in room 131. It was monotonous work, but not boring, since no two items were alike. And when he found and identified something, and reunited it with its number, it was very satisfying.
He was working his way through the 1910 to 1913 register, when a sheet of loose paper fluttered out from between the pages. Catching it before it fell off the desk, he turned it over and read it.
Getting up, he went across to the filing cabinet and dug out the file of correspondence relating to the donation of the mummies and looked through it. He pulled out the donation letter and studied the two papers side by side, particularly the signatures.
"Uncle Gaius?" he said. "The file for Fred and Julie…"
Gaius was carefully cleaning the big compass, but he looked up. "Fred and Julie?" he asked.
"The mummies. I gave them names; it seemed polite."
"Okay, Fred and Julie, what about them?"
"I just found this letter in the register, from when they were donated. It's dated the day after the letter in the file and it's almost exactly the same. Just the delivery date is different. It says that they're being donated on condition that they're permanently displayed."
"I know that, Merlin."
"But there is a handwritten note that says…" He squinted down at the letter. "It says that if for any reason the Museum wants to take them off display, they need the permission of the donor."
"And?" Gaius was beginning to sound exasperated.
"And that annotation is annotated with another note that says, 'Or her heirs and descendants.' And they're both signed."
A smile began to spread across Gaius's face. "My boy, you are sometimes something of a genius. You never fail to surprise me."
"So how do we trace the heirs?" Merlin asked.
"I think I might go on a field trip to the County Records Office, tomorrow," Gaius announced. "Well done, my boy. Well done."
NOTE:
FTSE100 - (commonly pronounced footsie) is the share index of the 100 companies with the highest market capitalisation listed on the London Stock Exchange. It is maintained by the FTSE Group, a subsidiary of the London Stock Exchange Group. Ref: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FTSE_100_Index
DEFRA is the government Department for Environment, Food & Rural Affairs.
The Jorvik Viking Centre is the museum built over the archaeological site of Viking York. The first part of a visit to the centre involves a cart ride around a life sized recreation of part of the Viking settlement.
Wellybobs is a slang term for Wellington boots. Wellington boots are waterproof boots to be worn when jumping into puddles and streams. Paddington Bear wears wellybobs.
Pendragon's Folly, Chapter 3
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2014-07-20 07:12 am (UTC)*laughs* It is a satisfying task, really. I have spent hours in a past life on that very thing.
Looks like the museum needs a new accountant that's actually accountable (sorry about that).
*grins at you*
Arthur's hard to read
Oh, thank you. I'm so glad you said that. Because that is what I wanted to portray through a limited version of Merlin's POV.