Derek pulled Jasper and Katie to the front.
“No good skulking back there. You need to be noticed.”
The ‘Fs’ done, he turned to the ‘Gs’. Whiling away the time, he stumbled upon the notion that adjacent surnames, or a surname with first-name use and a first-name with surname connotations might be the genesis of a new author’s name. So he began to let his imagination create more writers: Graham Greene, done already; Henry Irving too; Ivor James, perhaps too Welsh; Joyce King, a bit too bodice-ripping; Koestler Lawrence altogether too cerebral for his own good. And so on to the ‘Ms’.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
Careless browsers, Derek endured. He could even forgive the short-sighted for rather more erroneous replacement of books in the Large Print section than they were actually guilty of; but as for wholesale misplaced surnames. Sighing, muttering, Derek took Alexander in his arms and moved him from ‘Mc’ to his rightful if overpopulated position among the rest of the ‘Smiths’.