There is a flurry of strong language from Lola's corner of the room.
"Why the dockyard blarney?" I ask.
"I've been trying to sort out these boxes of books that have been lying here for months. Some of them have been here since before I went on maternity leave. And do you know what?"
"According to the catalogue they're all on the shelves in the library. Someone's just slung them into boxes without marking them as being unavailable for loan."
Which means that last April's statutory returns were an even bigger fiction than I thought. And that next April's probably won't be much better. Damn.