Mr Monkey scurried around the Royal Exchange looking for The Studio, which turned out to be through a door as far away from the entrance he'd come through as it could be without being in a different building.
A couple of months earlier visitors to the Royal Exchange had been invited to send in photos of corners or doors in their houses, descriptions of dreams or nightmares, copies of photos which meant something, shopping lists, and a variety of other more or less personal details. More material had been provided by schoolchildren coming in for workshop sessions.
Mr Monkey found out that the exhibiton was in the form of bits of a house, with these contributions on display in the appropriate areas.
In the backyard Mr Monkey read gossip from the washing, inspected an odd metal machine, searched suitcases to find schoolkids' favourite things, looked at treasured photos, and read messages left in milk bottles.
He went through the front door and into the house. There were areas representing a kitchen, a lounge, a bathroom and a bedroom.
Mr Monkey found one of Miss Carol's shopping lists stuck to the fridge door, and a scene of drama in the kitchen sink. He was glad that he never has tigers in his sink. Or people, either.
Mr Monkey was a little worried by the bathroom area, because the bath was quilted, heavy smoke came out the shower, and there was a list of everything that people had had for breakfast carefully typed out on the toilet roll.
Finally Mr Monkey found the bedroom area, home of dreams and nightmares. After finding that the wardrobe was bigger inside than it ought to have been, and reading secret letters in a case under the bed, Mr Monkey found that the drawing Mr Rik had made of a recurring nightmare* had been pasted onto a bedside table.
, but was sad that it was only on for such a short time. The Royal Exchange probably needed to use The Studio for something else.