Old Mounting Boards

The tailgate of Anouk’s car wouldn’t stay up. She held it with one hand while Vera looked at the empty space behind the folded-down seat. There was a blanket, with a sturdy board underneath. The shopping bags were out.

‘It only does that when it’s cold,’ said Anouk.

‘The tailgate?’

‘Yes. Not the blanket.’

Vera laughed. She helped Anouk take out the box of packing materials, then pulled the tailgate shut. The car was in a parking space beside De Werf. A notice about a forgotten umbrella hung on the window of the community centre. She looked at it without knowing if the umbrella was still there. Anouk had already opened the entrance door.

Sanne stood by the cupboard. The two boxes were out and the table had been cleared again. This time she had placed the plug on the same side as the laptop. Vera hung up her coat and ran her hand over the empty space where she had been crouching under the table last time.

Dorus arrived at ten o'clock with the box from his house. He did not carry it under one arm, as Vera had imagined. He held it right in front of him. On top lay the list he had signed yesterday. He gave it to Anouk before putting the box down.

‘Everything is in there,’ he said.

‘Then we’ll check it,’ she said.

He went to stand next to the table. Sanne had left enough room for the old mounting boards, the current set, and the small box. She asked if Anouk wanted to restore the order herself. Anouk nodded and took off her scarf, which kept falling forward. Vera placed it on the chair next to her coat.

First, the small box was opened. The envelope with the familiar papers lay on top. Then the loose working prints. Dorus unpacked them in the same way as last week; now Anouk stood closer. She did not take the twelve into her hands one by one. She asked Dorus to show her the numbers, checking them against the list. The third image with the bucket remained visible for a moment.

‘That one has been lying here by the window,’ said Dorus. ‘Nothing’s been added.’

Anouk marked the twelve. The old selection list, the copy of the recent assignment, and the material notes followed. He asked her not to separate the notes. Two sheets belonged to the same proof.

‘I will keep it that way,’ she said.

Vera saw how he did not immediately withdraw his hands after that. He left them lying on either side of the stack. On paper, the question of who would take the prints was settled. Dorus’s hands lingered beside them all the same.

Sanne made space on the underlay. Dorus took the seven old mounted prints out of the box and laid them down there in their sleeves. The ring on number eleven was only half visible until Anouk folded the protective sheet back. She looked at it and then continued counting.

‘Seven,’ she said.

At her request, Vera took the empty box from the other side. She held only the box; Anouk adjusted the bottom support herself. That way they could keep the old prints flat while they checked the current set, instead of propping them against a chair.

Sanne opened the first foundation box. Eight old pieces came before the first new one. Anouk followed them with her list. She stopped at number nine. She placed the old and the new side by side, both supported, with sufficient space in between. The same door. The old note belonged on the back of the left copy, not on the right.

‘This one goes back in its place,’ she said.

She took hold of the old mounting board by the edges. Sanne slid the cover open and Anouk placed it inside. The new copy went to a separate stack that Sanne immediately noted on her sheet. They would not be mixed in with the prints available for a later loan.

The second took less time. After that, they had to stop because the blank protective sheets ran out on that side of the table. Vera handed over the stack that Sanne had brought. Dorus said that the new mounting boards stayed straighter than some of the old ones. Anouk first put down the piece she was holding.

‘I want the old ones back,’ she said.

‘I'm not saying that.’

‘What are you saying, then?’

He looked at the stack. ‘That they might warp if you put them against the wall at home.’

‘I’m not putting them against a wall.’

She picked up the next item. Vera saw how Dorus wanted to help and withdrew his hand. He was talking about storage. Anouk had heard a different question in it, perhaps rightly so. For him, it was still work on which he could point out what could be improved. For her, it was the set she was getting back after months.

Sanne asked him to find the new print’s number on her list so she could match it with the right sleeve. It gave him something to do that was needed now. He bent over the line, looked at the two pieces, and pointed to the right one.

They worked their way through the first box. At number fourteen, Anouk turned the back towards her one last time. The note about the handcart. She didn’t hold it up for Vera, not as if it needed to be proven again. Her gaze lingered longer on the small handwriting than on the photo. Then she put it in its place.

Number fifteen belonged in the second box. One new print sat among thirteen old ones. Sanne took it out and held the cover open. The last recovered mounted print went back. The seven new ones now lay separately, with a sheet on which Sanne described their origin and the reason for keeping them. Anouk read it, Dorus too. His agreement was added.

The entire old set lay back in the two boxes. Anouk went through the numbers from the beginning. Fourteen in the first, fourteen in the second. The twelve loose working prints and the documents went back into the small box. Vera looked at the spot where they had lain on the table earlier. An empty rectangle remained there in the grey cloth, no cleaner than the rest, just flatter.

‘Then you have everything,’ said Dorus.

Anouk looked up. ‘This part.’

He looked at the box in her hands and understood before she had to speak any further.

‘Yes. The rest on Tuesday.’

The negatives and contact sheets were with Bente and Otto. The handover sheet listed only the three groups checked today and the restored set. Anouk signed for what she had seen. Sanne confirmed what had left the foundation room. Dorus put his name next to the contents of his box from his house. There was no blanket statement waiving her claim to the rest.

The credits still caused a discussion. Dorus had added a line to the back of his copy: prints Dorus van Esch. He asked if that would go with everything.

‘With the work you printed,’ said Anouk.

‘With all twenty-eight.’

‘Yes. You took photographs three and four as well. We indicated that yesterday.’

‘Then I don't want just my name on a website later under the heading 'involved parties'.’

Sanne looked at her provisional text. ‘You’ll be credited for your contribution. But the false claim about the collection will be corrected too.’

Dorus asked whether it all had to be in the same text. He felt it looked as if his printing was the mistake. Anouk said she wanted to keep the description of the images clear and be able to read the correction separately. Sanne could draft it like this: factual provenance and roles with the images, with the correction of the earlier announcement below or next to them.

‘Not somewhere where you have to click three times first,’ said Anouk.

‘No,’ said Sanne.

Vera was inclined to put herself in the visitor’s place and explain how such a person reads a page. Sanne had already written down the two points. Her earlier interference still lay between them, even now when she thought she could be useful. She preferred to help close the boxes.

The second lid didn't fit immediately. Sanne checked if a cover was folded over. Anouk smoothed it out again and tried once more. Now it closed without pressure. With the old prints back, their uneven edges were back too; the box had to fit round them again.

Dorus asked if he could take one more photo of the entire set before Anouk left. She said she had signed the list with the quantities. For his own records, he was allowed to photograph the closed boxes with the handover sheet. Not unpack all the photographs again. He seemed to be looking for an objection, but eventually grabbed his phone and took the photo.

Vera walked along to the car first to hold the tailgate. Anouk pushed the supporting board a little further forwards. Dorus brought the small box; Sanne the first large one. They placed them, supported, in the prepared space. The second one went next to it. Anouk checked that nothing touched the inside of the tailgate and positioned the clean blanket so the boxes wouldn't slide. It took longer than Vera had expected, even though they only had to drive a few metres before they were out of the street.

‘I'm just driving home,’ said Anouk when they were finished.

‘Yes.’

‘I don't have to pick anything up first.’

She said it mainly for herself, Vera thought. There was another trip on Tuesday. Today, the boxes only needed to go to her own house once. Dorus stood on the other side of the car and looked at his empty hands. He said she should call if one of the protective sheets didn't fit after all.

Anouk didn't thank him for that. She said she would let him know on Tuesday when the other part had been checked. He nodded and took a step back when she opened her car door.

Vera watched the car drive off the car park. At the exit, Anouk had to wait for a cyclist. After that, she drove on.

Back at De Werf, Sanne put the seven new mounted prints away separately. She showed Vera where the sheet with the appointment was and then closed the cupboard. Hugo came in to ask if the room would be free again at twelve o'clock. Sanne looked at the clock and said yes. They had another fifteen minutes.

Vera helped put the table back in its usual place. Sanne's box with extra protective sheets stayed by the cupboard. One rubber band lay on the floor. Vera picked it up and asked if it belonged to anything. Sanne said she didn't know and put it in her own drawer, with the pens.

‘Are you coming on Tuesday too?’ she asked.

‘At Bente’s. If Anouk still wants me there.’

‘And after this?’

Vera understood that Sanne didn't mean the next appointment. She looked at the windows, the table, and the cupboard, which was now less full. For weeks she had come here for something that had disrupted the ordinary work of the people who belonged here.

‘After this, I have the café,’ she said. ‘But I do want to see the text. The bit about the delivery I accepted.’

Sanne nodded. ‘I’ll send that.’

Outside, Vera’s bicycle saddle was covered in small raindrops. She wiped it off with a handkerchief that immediately began to fall apart. On the way to the café, she realised that she hadn’t had anything to eat for lunch. She would have some soup, then cover Yasmin’s usual break.